⸻
The dawn was still shy, the sun not yet touching the edges of the horizon, when the sisters prepared to leave the village for Cranebrook. A quiet chill hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fear and lingering goodbyes.
Lady Alura stood stiff, trying to fight the tremble in her lips. She had always been strict—nagging at times—but her love for her daughters was fierce. Never had she imagined being torn from them before their weddings.
Baron Edevan wore his usual calm mask, though inside he felt the hollow quiet that the house would soon hold without their laughter. This was for their own safety. That was all that mattered.
Alura drew her daughters close, holding them tightly.
"Be safe. Help your aunt. And be good girls," she said, her voice thick with feeling. "When all this settles, I will find my way back to you."
The carriage waited. The driver cracked the reins, and the wheels began to turn—carrying them away from the only home they had ever known.
⸻
Inside the carriage, the air was still.
Seraphina glanced at Vivienne, who was calmly applying rose-scented oil to her skin, her movements composed.
"Tsk. You're all about beauty, aren't you?" Seraphina muttered.
Vivienne shot her a sharp look. "If I'm to be taken by some blood-sucking demon, I might as well look pretty in my grave."
"Shut it. Don't speak so ill of our fate." Seraphina lowered her voice and leaned in. "By the way… I brought the journal."
"W-what?!" Vivienne gasped, eyes wide.
Seraphina immediately shushed her, nodding subtly toward the driver. Vivienne covered her mouth and nodded, cheeks flushing.
⸻
The carriage rolled deeper into the woods, the trees thickening, shadows lengthening around them. Far ahead, resting lazily against a tree, stood a lone figure—Soren. His eyes tracked the carriage, a smirk tugging at his lips.
As the carriage passed, he stepped forward.
"HALT!"
The sudden shout startled the driver. The horses neighed and the carriage jerked to a stop.
"What was that?" Seraphina whispered.
"I'll go check, my lady," the driver called, climbing down from his seat.
But he did not return.
Minutes passed in silence. The sisters exchanged uneasy glances. Vivienne slipped down from the left side, Seraphina from the right.
Then—
"Oh, good lord!" Seraphina gasped, clutching her chest.
"Sister, what is it?" Vivienne hurried around the carriage—then froze.
Before them stood Soren, a devilish smirk on his lips.
Vivienne grabbed Seraphina's arm protectively, lifting her chin. "Who are you?"
But before more could be said, her breath hitched in a hiccup of fear.
Seraphina gently rubbed her sister's back, calming her.
"You're welcome," Soren said smoothly, straightening his coat.
"And what good deed have you done for us to be thankful?" Seraphina snapped.
"Your driver was a spy," he replied coolly. "But don't worry. I took care of him."
Seraphina's face paled. "What do you mean?"
"I killed him," Soren said bluntly. "Now, tell me—do you want to be saved, or left here in the woods to face the curse that haunts your village?"
His tone was playful, but the weight beneath it was undeniable.
Vivienne hiccupped again, louder.
"Hush now, Vivi," Seraphina murmured, then looked Soren straight in the eye. "And why should I trust you?"
He shrugged, pacing lazily. "Let's see… I saved you once, yes? Brought you home safely? But now it seems you're fleeing your village for another."
"That is true," Seraphina admitted under her breath.
Silence stretched between them.
"Fine," Seraphina said at last. "I'll follow you. But promise to help me reach Cranebrook and find my aunt."
"Why should I help you?" Soren asked.
"Then I'll find my own way," she said, turning her back to him.
He scoffed. "I'm the one saving you. I make the choices, not you."
"Will you help me or not?" she asked again, meeting his unreadable gaze.
⸻
They arrived at the palace just as daylight touched the sky. The walls were dimly lit by fire stands, casting flickering shadows across ancient stone. It was beautiful, yes—but quiet, as though holding its breath.
Vivienne leaned forward. "This is a palace, isn't it? Are you a prince? Or a noble? Will you take us to the king?"
Soren winced but said nothing.
"I demand you answer—" Vivienne started.
Seraphina quickly placed a hand over her mouth. "Shh. Enough."
She turned to Soren with more poise. "I apologize. By the way, I never caught your name."
"Soren," he said simply.
"Oh…" Seraphina murmured.
The great doors opened, carved with ancient runes and graceful patterns. They stepped into cool, echoing halls, their footsteps swallowed by velvet carpets. Rooms were already prepared. Hot baths waited, scented steam curling into the air as if someone had known they were coming.
Soren turned to leave.
"Thank you, Lord Soren," Seraphina said politely. "I won't stay long. Your hospitality is appreciated."
He tilted his head and gave only a low hum in response before vanishing into the corridor.
⸻
Morning came swiftly.
Maids attended them, helping them bathe and dress.
Seraphina's pink corset clung gently to her figure, the skirt soft and flowing like dawn-colored silk. Vivienne's pale blue gown shimmered faintly, glowing at the hem. Both were dressed like noble ladies—flawless and radiant.
Seraphina wore her hair down in soft waves. Vivienne pinned hers up, allowing a few loose tendrils to frame her face.
They were led into a grand dining hall, its tall windows spilling golden light across the long table. Only two figures sat there—Elias and Soren.
"Good morning, my lords," Seraphina said with a polite curtsey.
Soren only raised a brow. Elias offered a small nod.
Then, the doors opened again.
Lucian entered.
The light shifted.
Vivienne's breath caught.
She lifted her head. "Lucian?" she whispered.
He tilted his head, a slow, dangerous smirk playing at his lips.
"Hello, love," he said.