A fully grown man in a long white robe, embroidered with intricate golden patterns, appeared before her. His pointed ears twitched, and his long, flame-red hair shimmered like fire itself.
Elery was stunned to see a different version of him. Despite being a spirit, his beauty could enchant both men and women alike.
Velka smirked at her reaction.
"Have you fallen for my beauty?" he teased, lifting her chin with a single finger.
His smug face snapped her out of her daze.
"Why do you look different?" she asked.
"Now that I'm no longer trapped, I can freely use my powers," Velka replied, striding toward a nearby mirror. "I was only in my child form to conserve what little mana I had left."
He tilted his head, admiring his reflection. "I'm gorgeous as always."
Elery sighed inwardly. "I'm starting to regret my decision."
"By the way," she asked, "How did you know my name? I never told you."
"It wasn't that hard to guess. The previous human who passed the test called me by your name. When I saw you, I remembered her. You look just like her. You see, I take on the appearance of the person closest to your heart. It's the easiest way to fool someone."
"Closest to my heart?" Elery repeated in her mind. "Lord Rue?!" She recalled the events during the test.
"That's impossible! Why would it be Rue?!" she said in denial.
Velka shrugged. "How should I know? I thought he was your lover, so I played the part. Is that why I got caught? Ugh. I did see another man, but he wasn't as close as this Rue you speak of."
"Why would Rue be the one closest to my heart?" she muttered, still refusing to believe it.
She noticed Velka moving toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"It's been hundreds of years since I last saw the world. I want to see how much it has changed," he said, already halfway out.
"Velka, I summon you!"
In an instant, he reappeared before her.
"What the-!"
"This may be your first time forming a contract with a human, and mine as well," Elery said coolly. "But I know a thing or two about having a familiar. Just as you can read my thoughts, I can read yours. I knew exactly what you were planning the moment you stepped out the door."
Velka groaned. "Can't I have a bit of privacy?"
Though she held herself with confidence, she hid the truth. She didn't actually know how to unsummon him.
"Don't bother trying to leave. I'll just call you back. Does the usher know you've escaped?"
"I left a copy of myself in the orb. She won't notice until it's too late, unless she uses it again."
"I want to know what happened to my sister after she passed her test," Elery pressed.
"Oh, that..." Velka scratched his head, trying to recall. "Hmm... I don't know."
"What?!" Elery's eyes widened. "You said you knew. Did you lie to me?"
Elery glared at him.
"I should just return you to the usher." She rose from her seat, ready to leave.
"W-wait! I think I remember something," Velka blurted, stepping in front of the door to block her way. "She was tasked to summon a familiar, but she failed."
"That's it?" Elery arched a brow.
"I'm not sure if this will help," Velka admitted, "but there are hidden rooms in that witch's chambers."
"I guessed as much," Elery said flatly.
"Then did you know one of them is inside the mirror?"
"So the mirror is a hidden room..." Elery murmured, mind already turning.
Velka's eyes glinted. "I can tell you where the other one is, if you promise never to threaten to send me back there."
"Fine."
"Then let's go while the veil witch is away. This might be our only chance."
Her gaze narrowed. "Why do you keep calling the Headmaster a 'veil witch'? She's a mage. Only my family carries the last witch's blood."
Velka looked at her puzzled. "I've lived a long time. I know the difference between a witch and a mage, and I'm certain she's a witch."
"The Headmaster is a witch?!"
Morning sunlight poured into Lady Cecilia's chambers as Zephora brushed out her hair. A soft knock echoed from the door.
"That must be the prince," Zephora said with a smile as she went to answer.
Cecilia glanced at the mirror, cheeks flushed, checking herself one more time.
"Good morning," Prince Caleb greeted, stepping inside with a bouquet of red tulips.
"Good morning, Your Imperial Highness. How was your night?"
Cecilia asked, taking the flowers. She no longer felt awkward in his presence; after all, he had been visiting her every day without fail.
"It would've been better if I'd seen you in my dreams," Caleb replied with a smile.
Her cheeks turned red. No matter how often he spoke with such endearment, she still wasn't used to it.
Caleb chuckled softly at her bashful expression. He had never seen her react like this before she lost her memory.
"I just wanted to see you before I began my day," he said. "Would you spare me some time this afternoon for tea?"
"Of course."
"Then I'll see you later, my love." He kissed her cheek before leaving.
As he left, Cecilia touched the spot where his lips had been. Her heart raced.
"I want to know you more... I need to get my memories back," she thought.
Another knock came.
"Did you forget something?" Cecilia asked, opening the door.
Instead of the prince, a maid stood there, bowing respectfully.
"Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress, invites you to a tea party this afternoon, Lady Cecilia."
"Oh..." Cecilia froze at the mention of the Empress. A time passed by since her arrival at the palace but she had never crossed paths with the Empress and she never called for her till now.
"Her Ladyship already has an appointment with the Crown Prince," Zephora said.
"No, it's fine." Cecilia turned to her. "Could you ask His Imperial Highness to arrange our meeting for another time?"
Zephora nodded.
Cecilia turned to the maid. "Kindly relay to Her Imperial Majesty that I will be attending."
That afternoon, Cecilia made her way toward the Crystal Conservatory, where the Empress held her tea party.
"Lady Cecilia, you're here," the Empress greeted warmly.
"I greet Her Imperial Majesty. Thank you for inviting me," Cecilia said with a graceful bow.
"Come, take a seat," the Empress gestured.
There were only a few nobles present, some close to Cecilia's age. Still, she felt awkward, she knew none of them.
"I've heard the army led by Duke Avaris was able to defeat Sir Aurex. Such a relief. The Duke still has it," one noble remarked.
"Well, my father has always been the type to feel invigorated when matched with a strong opponent," the Empress replied, then turned her gaze to Cecilia. "I'd also like to thank Duke Labelle for financing this war."
"It is our greatest pleasure to assist the empire in its time of need," Cecilia answered politely.
"But of course, House Labelle is only known for its riches," a young noblewoman said with a faint, sly smile. Her short, wavy blond hair bobbed as she fanned herself.
"Who is she?" Cecilia thought, annoyance prickling. She could feel the hostility behind those words.
The room went quiet, tension building in the air.
"I mean no insult," the young lady continued. "After all, the empire's finances have flourished thanks to House Labelle. For a rising noble, His Grace's accomplishments are remarkable."
The other nobles chuckled awkwardly in agreement.
"This must be your first time meeting since you lost your memory," the Empress said to Cecilia. "This is Lady Margaret Vane, Duke Vane's adopted daughter."
Margaret smiled sweetly.
"Such a shame you lost your memory. I still remember the good old days when I was trained to be crown princess at a young age," she said, bitterness slipping beneath her words. "But what's important is the Crown Prince's happiness. I'm sure the rumors aren't true, and that Lady Cecilia feels the same way about him. I wish nothing less than His Imperial Highness's joy."
"What rumor?" Cecilia asked, her tone calm but her curiosity piqued.
"That you were in love with another man," the Empress answered. "My son has seen me suffer from my unrequited love for the Emperor. I don't want him to experience the same." She gave Cecilia a meaningful look. "But at the same time, I can't force him to marry someone he doesn't love."
"Don't worry, Your Imperial Majesty," Margaret said, still smiling. "Even if the prince doesn't like me, House Vane will continue to support him. Perhaps if I stay as his concubine, he'll learn to love me."
"His concubine?!" Cecilia thought in disbelief. The mere thought of the prince with another woman, treating her the same way he treated Cecilia, made her blood boil.
"Aaah!" Margaret stood up suddenly as the hot cup of tea she was holding suddenly shattered giving her a burn.
The nobles and servants rushed to her side in alarm.
"Call a healer!" the Empress ordered the servants.
Lady Cecilia stood from her seat.
"I am not feeling well, Your Imperial Majesty. I shall take my leave."
"Go," the Empress replied dismissively, her attention fixed entirely on Margaret.
Still seething, Lady Cecilia left the conservatory. With each step she took, the flowers along her path ignited into flame.
"We'll camp here tonight," Duke Avaris told his soldiers. "Tomorrow, we'll reach the capital."
As he dismounted his horse, he groaned, clutching his stomach. His wounds from the last battle had yet to heal.
"My lord, it would be best to let one of the knight captains lead. You need more rest," Ashen urged, her voice edged with concern.
The Duke brushed a hand over her head.
"How can I rest when even a child was forced to join this war? Still, I'm surprised you know the fastest route to the capital. Have you been here before?" he asked, removing his armor inside his tent.
"I'm from here."
The Duke paused. "Are you truly all right with us invading your homeland? Wouldn't your family be worried?"
Her eyes turned cold. "I am an orphan. My brother is my only family and he serves the Empire."
Ashen still remembered what happend to her family.
Twenty years ago
Outskirts of the Dostani Kingdom
Huff... huff...
A woman stumbled through the darkness, panting as she carried a small child in her arms and dragged a young boy by the hand.
The boy tripped.
"Malachai!" she cried, rushing to help him to his feet.
"There they are!" a villager's voice rang out. Torches flared, weapons glinted, and an angry mob surged toward them.
"We can't outrun them," the woman thought in dread.
Kneeling before the boy, she set the little girl down.
"Malachai, listen to me. You're the big brother. So from this moment on, protect your sister. Do not let her use her magic. Go!"
"What about you and father? We can go together!" Malachai's small hands tugged desperately at her skirt.
"You're on your own now. Go! Leave!" she shouted, her voice breaking.
Malachai flinched but obeyed, hoisting his sister onto his back before running into the night.
For one last time, he looked over his shoulder. His mother stood her ground against the villagers before she was overwhelmed. Tears blurred his vision, but he didn't stop.
"Brother, I'm hungry," Ashen whispered weakly. They hadn't eaten in days, wandering from town to town.
Malachai's stomach growled in hunger.
"Stay here. I'll look for food," Malachai said and left her sister in an alley.
The market was alive with music, laughter, and the scent of roasted meat. People crowded the streets, preparing for a festival. Stalls brimmed with goods, and Malachai saw his chance.
He snatched a loaf of bread.
"Thief!" the merchant shouted as he ran to catch Malachai.
Malachai ran so fast as if his life depends on a piece of loaf but other mechants helped to stop him.
"What is a rat doing here? There's no place for kids like you," one of the merchants sneered before kicking him.
Malachai fell to the ground, shielding the bread with his arms as the men surrounded him and began stomping on him.
"Give me that!" the merchant barked, reaching for the loaf.
"No!" Malachai shouted as he tried to get the bread back.
"Tsk. Now it's dirty," the merchant said and stomped on the bread.
Tears ran down on his face, a knot of desperation and rage swelling in his chest.
"What should we do with this thief?" another merchant asked.
"Send him to the soldiers, so they could lock him up. That will teach him a lesson," the merchant suggested.
Malachai thought of his sister waiting for him. One of the men grabbed his arm.
"Go away!" Malachai roared, shoving him with every ounce of strength he had.
A deafening crash followed by silence.
He opened his eyes slowly, heart pounding. The man lay sprawled across the market, having crashed into a distant stall.
"He... he's a mage?" the merchant stammered, fear creeping into his voice.
"What just happened?" Malachai thought as he stares at his hands.
"How could grown men treat a child like this?" a noblewoman's voice cut through the crowd. A woman in fine garments stepped forward, her tone sharp as a blade. "This is an auspicious day to celebrate the second princess's birthday, yet here you are cornering a child over a loaf of bread. I wonder what my brother will say about this."
"B-Baroness?" the merchants stuttered, quickly dropping to their knees.
"Baroness, please spare us. It will not happen again," they pleaded.
"I am merely Lady Ophelia, my brother holds the title," she said coolly. "Still, to see merchants trading in our lands while treating the people like this is unacceptable. Leave. I do not wish to see you in this market again."
Frightened, the merchants scattered. Lady Ophelia approached Malachai.
"Are you hurt, child?" she asked. But his gaze was fixed only on the ruined bread.
She crouched down to meet his eyes. "Would you like to get something to eat?"
Malachai stared at her, uncertain.
"Follow me," she said, turning away.
He hesitated.
"I will not offer a second time," she called over her shoulder.
Malachai immediately followed her.