A commotion broke out at Amelia's residence that morning when her mother couldn't find her anywhere. Her bedroom was empty, and the window had been left open. Everyone was worried, and Amelia's mother, Margaret, was in a panic. She feared her daughter had done something reckless after hearing disturbing rumors at the cemetery.
She knew her daughter was a curious person.
What if she had gone to the old castle to find out if the rumors were true?
"What do we do? Where could Amelia be?"
"I'm going to look for her!" Philip Bridget grabbed a raincoat—the rain was still falling that morning, though not too heavily.
"I'm afraid Amelia went to the castle, and I'm terrified something bad has happened to her!" Margaret feared her daughter had become a victim, and she worried they would find her lifeless.
"Don't worry. Amelia will be fine. I'll find her and bring her home."
"If you don't find her anywhere else, you must check the castle!" Her instincts told her Amelia had gone there.
"Pray she didn't. The villagers will be furious if they find out Amelia broke a rule that's been in place for hundreds of years. We could be driven out of the town."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of. Please, go now!"
Amelia's father didn't go alone—he was joined by his brother, John. They quickly headed out into the rain. The roads were slippery, and they had to walk carefully.
They searched around the house first, thinking Amelia might have sleepwalked. Then, they looked around the cemetery, wondering if she had gone to visit her grandmother's grave.
"Amelia!" her father called out repeatedly, but there was still no sign of her.
His heart was filled with anxiety for his only daughter.
Could she really have gone to the castle?
"John, we need to look somewhere else!" Philip called out.
"Where else?" John approached him.
"The castle."
"Are you out of your mind?" John was shocked.
"We're not supposed to go there, Philip!" He hoped his brother would reconsider.
"I don't want to go there either, but we haven't found Amelia anywhere. I'm afraid she actually went there."
"But it's dangerous!"
"I know. But we have no other choice. Besides, it's still morning—let's hope the worst hasn't happened yet." Philip patted his brother's shoulder and walked off.
John watched his brother go. He was hesitant, but in the end, he followed. He couldn't let Philip go alone.
They approached the castle, hearts pounding. Amelia's father silently prayed. He hoped his daughter wasn't there—so they wouldn't break the ancient rule—and above all, he prayed she was still alive.
The rumors he'd heard at the cemetery still haunted him. No one knew exactly what had happened to the corpses found there, but some claimed they weren't the work of wild animals.
"Isn't that Amelia?" John suddenly pointed to something under a large tree not far away.
"Amelia?" Philip squinted. Her clothes were distinctive—he remembered she had been wearing something like that.
Philip and his brother ran toward the figure to be sure. Philip's heart dropped—lying beneath the tree was indeed Amelia.
"Amelia!" he called. She was unconscious.
"Amelia, can you hear Daddy?" Philip checked her immediately. The first thing he looked at was her neck. There were no wounds—Amelia was still alive.
"How is she?" John approached, equally worried.
"She seems to have fainted!" Philip lifted his daughter in his arms. They had to get her home immediately.
Fortunately, Amelia hadn't been inside the castle as they feared—though they were still puzzled about how she ended up under that tree. They would question her once she woke up.
From a distance, hidden in the shadows, Griffon watched as Amelia was found. Silently, he observed. He had been worried someone else might find her—someone with ill intent. Now that she was safe, he no longer had to watch over her. But he had made one mistake—he hadn't erased her memory.
Margaret waited anxiously at home. She would go out herself if her husband didn't return in the next ten minutes. Standing by the window, she prayed without ceasing.
Several minutes passed in unbearable tension. Just as she was about to grab her raincoat and head out, she saw her husband returning.
She ran outside, heart pounding, when she saw someone in his arms.
"Amelia?" Her face went pale. Was Amelia okay?
"Amelia?" She rushed to them. Please don't let her be dead. Please don't let her be another victim of the rumors.
"Is she still alive? Is my daughter still alive?" Tears streamed down her face. She didn't stop running. The slippery road caused her to fall, but Margaret quickly got up and continued toward her husband.
She stopped him and looked at Amelia. Her daughter's face was pale, her lips bluish. Like her husband had done earlier, Margaret checked Amelia's neck. Relief washed over her—there were no bite marks.
"What happened to her?" A mixture of fear and relief filled her heart.
"We'll talk about it later. Right now, Amelia needs care!"
"I'll prepare warm water!" Margaret ran back inside. Whatever her daughter had done out there, they would get the truth out of her later.
They might have to leave town. Margaret was afraid Amelia would try something like this again—and next time, they might not be so lucky. She worried they'd find her daughter lifeless next time.
Amelia's clothes were changed, her shivering body wrapped in warm blankets. A compress rested on her forehead. She was conscious but not yet ready to speak.
"Where did you find Amelia, Philip? Did you find her at the castle?"
"No. We found her under a big tree, just as we were about to head to the castle."
"Really?" Margaret stared at her daughter. Suspicion rose within her.
Don't tell me she was heading to the castle, but something happened before she got there.
"Was Amelia—"
"I don't know!" Philip interrupted.
"We'll ask her once she's fully awake. Let's hope she wasn't trying to go to the castle."
"I hope so too."
They had no choice but to wait for Amelia to recover. Margaret stayed by her side, not willing to leave her for a moment—afraid she might disappear again. They had to stay alert until they got answers.
Amelia's condition gradually improved. She was regaining consciousness. Her head ached, and she still felt cold.
"Mom," she whispered, waking Margaret who had nearly dozed off.
"Amelia, are you okay?" Margaret rushed to her, pulling the blanket tighter around her daughter.
"What happened to you? Why were you under that tree?" Her mother could no longer contain her questions.
"M-me?" Amelia looked at her mother. She tried to recall what happened the night before. It was hazy—but she remembered what she saw at the castle.
That man—half real, half dream—but his handsome face was clear in her memory. He appeared suddenly, and after that, everything went blank.
"Why aren't you saying anything? Were you trying to go to the castle, Amelia?"
"No. I didn't go there." She lied. It was better to say nothing. She knew her parents would be furious.
But she couldn't stop thinking about that man. She was sure he was a noble who lived in the castle. What puzzled her most was: why couldn't she remember anything after meeting him?
She had to go back to the castle to find out if he was real or not.
"Don't lie, Amelia. Your father found you under a tree near the castle. Please tell me you weren't trying to go there." Margaret desperately hoped her daughter hadn't.
"I wasn't, Mom. Please believe me. After dinner, I went to bed—and I don't remember anything after that."
Until she had proof, she wouldn't tell anyone about the man's existence.
"Are you telling the truth?" Her mother still looked skeptical.
"Yes, please trust me."
"Alright. Just get some rest."
Could her daughter have been sleepwalking? She had never done that before—but could it be possible?
Margaret stepped out of the room. She needed to speak with the others.
Amelia turned toward the window.
The rain hadn't stopped.
She would wait for the right time—
Then, she'd return to that old castle.