The morning was quiet, thick with the smell of dew and lavender. Elara crouched behind the low stone wall near the eastern garden, her heartbeat steady but sharp in her chest. She kept her eyes on the winding road leading to the manor's gate.
She remembered this day like it was a scene replaying in her mind. The birds chirped the same song. The breeze whispered the same calm lies. In the distance, she could hear soft laughter from the stables and the sound of someone drawing water.
Kaelin would arrive any moment now.
Aven had kept his word. He'd run all the way to her room, panting, cheeks red, blurting out, "She's almost here. They just crossed the hill."
Elara hadn't said a word. She had just stood, grabbed her cloak, and slipped out before anyone could stop her.
Ten years ago, she had rushed to the gate to greet Kaelin, face lit up with joy, arms out like a child who missed her favorite person in the world. But now?
Now, she crouched in the dirt like a stranger in her own home.
She needed to see Kaelin before Kaelin saw her.
She needed to see the real version—the one not dressed in smiles.
And then she saw it.
The carriage.
Dark blue with gold on the edges. Her family's crest painted proudly on the door—an open hand and a crescent moon. It rolled slowly along the path and came to a stop at the iron gate.
Elara's fingers curled around the edge of the wall, the stone rough under her skin.
The footman stepped down. Opened the door.
And Kaelin stepped out.
She looked the same.
Beautiful, polished, and gentle in a way that made people want to trust her. Her honey-brown curls were pinned neatly behind her ears, held by a pearl comb. She wore a velvet cloak in a deep violet shade, the kind that made her skin glow.
She laughed as she turned toward the footman—light, warm, familiar.
And it made something twist inside Elara.
Behind her, Lady Enira came out of the carriage, face calm, cold, like a statue that could speak only if you asked politely. She looked around the manor like she already missed the city.
Kaelin spoke again, smiling at the guards, brushing a loose curl behind her ear. Her voice floated through the air like sugar in tea.
Elara narrowed her eyes.
Even now—knowing everything—Kaelin still had that way of pulling people in. Her smile was a door people walked through willingly, without realizing they were already trapped.
But Elara was no longer walking in blind.
"Elara?"
She jumped a little. Aven had appeared beside her, crouching behind the wall too, his eyes big with curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" he whispered.
"Hiding."
"You're spying," he said with a grin. "You're such a weirdo."
She smirked. "Maybe."
"You don't want to say hello?"
"Not yet."
Aven peeked over the wall. "She looks the same. Like one of those perfect dolls."
Elara stood slowly, brushing dirt from her hands. "She's not perfect. She's just good at pretending."
The gates opened with a long creak. The carriage began rolling forward, the horses snorting as they pulled into the courtyard.
Elara stepped back, turning toward the hidden garden path.
She wasn't ready to face Kaelin.
Not until she had her mind steady.
That afternoon, Elara watched from the upstairs hallway. She stood quietly behind the tall curtains that looked over the great hall.
Below, her father greeted Lady Enira with a practiced smile. Kaelin stood beside her, calm and sweet as ever. Her violet dress shimmered in the light, and she smiled at the maids like they were lifelong friends.
People already adored her.
The kitchen boy elbowed another servant, whispering something that made them both giggle.
Elara's mouth tightened. She turned from the window and walked away.
Dinner was as grand as she remembered.
Elara wore a dark green dress, her hair pulled back with a golden ribbon. She walked into the hall like she was born for it—because she was.
Kaelin sat at the table already, chatting softly with Elara's mother. She turned when Elara entered, and their eyes met.
"Elara!" Kaelin stood with a glowing smile. "You're here!"
She crossed the room and wrapped Elara in a hug.
Elara stood still.
Her arms rose slowly, only lightly touching Kaelin's back.
Kaelin pulled away, just a little too fast. Her eyes flickered. Confusion. Maybe something else.
But it disappeared in an instant.
"You've grown so much," she said cheerfully. "I almost didn't recognize you."
Elara smiled with effort. "And you haven't changed at all."
Kaelin laughed, brushing it off. "I'll take that as a good thing."
They sat, and dinner began. Kaelin spoke easily, slipping into every conversation with charm. She told stories, complimented the food, made everyone laugh.
But Elara didn't join in.
She watched. She waited. She looked for cracks.
After dinner, the guests moved to the garden to enjoy the cool night air.
Elara slipped away, following Kaelin at a distance.
She found her under the rose-covered archway, staring at the sky.
"You always liked this spot," Kaelin said, not turning around.
Elara didn't answer.
Kaelin turned. "Is everything okay?"
"You've missed a lot," Elara said.
Kaelin gave a small smile. "I know. I should've written. Things at home got... messy."
Elara's eyes narrowed. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
Kaelin frowned. "Elara... what's going on?"
Elara stepped closer. Her voice was low but clear. "No more pretending. Just be honest with me."
Kaelin looked down. Her hands twisted together.
Then she said softly, "I missed you."
Elara said nothing.
The silence stretched between them.
Then she turned and walked away, leaving Kaelin alone under the stars.
She didn't trust her.
Not yet.
But she would watch. Listen. Wait.
Because Elara wasn't the same girl who once believed in forever.
She was the girl who remembered the fall—and this time, she would see it coming.
Even if no one else did.