"Who are you?" Anna Marie's voice asked shakily.
"Do you not recognize me, Magda?" She could hear the same accent in his voice that Wanda and Pietro had, his voice a bit deeper than Pietro's. The man was perplexed, and he moved towards her….
…walking straight through the desk.
He was a ghost.
She immediately turned and left the room, making her way as quickly as possible back where she came.
"Magda!" She heard his voice call, and she kept running, until she came to the room she shared with Pietro, shutting and locking the door. She prayed silently that the ghost would go away, that she had imagined or dreamed the whole thing.
She calmed her breathing, and turned to see Pietro still asleep, unbothered by her exploration of the castle.
She sighed, leaning back against the door as the silence enveloped the room, the wind howling outside all she heard as she climbed back in bed.
—-
When she awoke the next morning, the house was quiet, save for the piano she could hear distantly. Pietro had given her a kiss on the cheek before heading to town to call on Django for the parts that had arrived.
She followed the sound of the piano, heading downstairs to the main sitting area, where she found Wanda playing, sitting quietly as her hands danced lightly across the keys.
Wanda stopped playing and looked up as she noticed Anna Marie standing there.
"I'm sorry….I didn't mean to interrupt. You play very beautifully."
"Thank you, Anna Marie. I wasn't expecting you to be up so early."
"Pietro left, and I couldn't go back to sleep." She admitted.
"Ah, well, I'm sure he will return shortly. He practically sped to town the moment the sun rose."
Anna Marie smiled and looked around at the room, taking in the paintings on the wall. There were paintings of past Eisenhardts in this room, much like the ones on the staircase.
Wait.
"...who is that?"
The painting in question was of a younger Pietro and Wanda, standing in front of a couple.
The man in the painting looked just like the ghost she had seen the night before.
"Ah. That is our dearly departed father, Max Eisenhardt. That's our mother, Magda, next to him. God rest her soul…." Wanda remarked.
"I think I saw him. Or his ghost anyway."
Wanda let out a dry chuckle. "Unfortunately, he haunts us, even in death. Father was never the same after Mother died. He became harsh, distant. He drank a lot, and accidentally drowned in the tub one night."
She was studying the painting of this once happy looking family, the woman in the painting looked so similar to her, it was rather uncanny.
No wonder he mistook me for his wife.
"How tragic." She remarked.
"If you happen to come across him again, don't listen to a word he says. He talks nonsense most of the time. I think the grief and the drinking drove him mad in the end."
Anna Marie wasn't sure about Wanda's comment. Perhaps he was indeed mad, or perhaps he had mistakenly thought Anna Marie was, in fact, Magda at first glance. Either way, she wondered to herself how soon it would be before the man reappeared, and how lucid he would actually be.
When Pietro finally returned, and Django had helped him to unload the parts they needed for the machine, he was solely focused on putting the parts into motion, and Anna Marie wrapped herself in a cape before venturing out to watch him work.
He was in the thick of it, working alongside the men he had hired, his sleeves rolled up as they guided the parts into place.
He looked over his shoulder, and there stood Anna Marie, a soft smile as she watched him work. He grinned at her, continuing his work, both of them unaware of Wanda watching from the window.
She had gone to bed early, not feeling well. When she awoke a few hours later, her stomach hurting a little and the cold making her shiver, she realized she was alone. Pietro was not in bed with her.
She pulled the blanket over herself, trying to keep warm, when she heard a voice.
"Magda."
She opened her eyes, and there, standing at the foot of the bed, was the ghost of Max Eisenhardt, the man she had seen in the study the night before, studying her with a curious expression.
"I-I'm sorry, I'm not Magda. My n-name is Anna Marie." She explained even though she was shivering.
"Anna Marie…." He spoke her name, as if testing it on his tongue. "Forgive me. You remind me….of her." He shook himself a bit. "I apologize for my rudeness. I am Sir Max Eisenhardt. Freiherr and owner of this….grand structure." He said the last part with a bit of dry sarcasm, clearly alluding to the declining state of the castle.
"You have….a lovely home, Sir Eisenhardt." She complimented.
He noticed her shivering, and his eyebrows drew together. "You are cold. That will not do for a guest in my home."
"Oh. Sir, forgive me, but I am not a guest. I am Freifrau of this castle now."
His eyebrows rose. "So, my son has taken a wife, and left her to shiver while he tinkers away in the attic. Surely, he knows better."
He turned towards the fireplace, and she was astonished to see that he was stoking the fire back to life.
He's able to touch things like he's actually living?
After a few minutes, the fire roared to life, crackling in the hearth.
"That should suffice. At least you will not freeze to death."
"Thank you, sir. I….appreciate your consideration of me."
"Think nothing of it. Do remind my son that he has certain duties as a husband that are non-negotiable."
With one last look at her, and a small bow of his head, he disappeared into thin air.