Grey clouds swallowed the sky as Nerine's carriage creaked to a stop at the Blackthorn House. The mansion loomed before her.....towering spires draped in creeping ivy, windows dark and silent like indifferent sentinels.
A hush enveloped the courtyard. Not a servant stirred; only the wind brushed against carved gargoyles. No welcome. No ceremony. Just an unsettling void where life should have thrived.
Five maids, backs rigid and faces pale, stepped forward. Their crisp dark uniforms stood in contrast against the damp air. A single butler bowed from the doorway, his expression impassive.
"Lady Sofia," the eldest maid offered, lowering her eyes. Nerine stiffened at the name.
She swallowed and forced out, "This way, please."
They led her inside, past great oak doors into echoing halls lit by flickering sconces. Her footsteps sounded hollow; her heart, heavier with each breath.
At the end of a vast corridor, a door swung open to reveal her chamber. Warm, soft light spilled over plush furnishings, fragrant linen, and dark mahogany shelves. Thick rugs muffled her footsteps.
"This is for you, Lady Sofia," said a maid, her voice trembling.
Nerine nodded, the title stinging. She bit down on her lip but dared not correct them. She had become someone she no longer felt she was.
Alone, and Waiting
"Lord Blackthorn is indisposed for now. He will see you at dinner," the maid informed before curtsying and leaving.
Nerine closed the door behind them and sank onto the edge of the bed. A coil formed in her stomach—a choking mix of dread and exhaustion.
She touched her necklace, the ruby warm against her collarbone, and closed her eyes.
Kael stood in the tower's rooftop window, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He watched the carriage arrive, watched her descend. She wore the lilac gown.....but something about her stopped him.
She's beautiful, he thought, exhaling smoke that drifted into the night sky. Not the fragile doll I expected.
He smirked, cold and calculating. It annoyed him. But there was something honest in her posture, in the way she let her hair fall free and the way she walked. He turned away without her noticing.
At precisely dusk, the maids escorted Nerine to the dining hall. A sound engraved itself in her memory...the hush of dozens of chairs at a single beat. The room could seat fifty with ease, yet only one place was laid before her.
A solitary chair in front of a table set for a banquet. Uneaten food lined the opposite seats like silent offerings to emptiness.
Nerine sat alone, her reflection dwarfed in the polished steel utensils. Where once four voices had laughed at Madam Helen's table, she now sat in silence that pressed down like suffocating velvet.
Five maids waited silently at her side. One chef stood bowed behind them, his face impassive, hands clasped.
She thought of inviting them to sit,but something greater kept her tongue from speaking. Instead, she cleared her throat softly.
"Would you guys like to join me?" she asked, her voice stranger even to herself. "This seems too much for one person." she said looking at the food on the table.
The maids stiffened. After a moment, the eldest shook her head. "we—cannot, Lady Sofia. The rules…"
She trailed off. The chef bowed lower.
Nerine swallowed and nodded. She didn't press them further. She ate quietly.
As soft candlelight flickered through stained-glass panes, Nerine rose. The draining warmth had disappeared from her skin.
A maid from earlier—the one with the worried eyes....appeared.
"Would you like me to guide you back, Lady Sofia?"
Nerine hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you."
"What is your name?" She asked the maid as they walked away from the dinning room.
"Clara!" She replied her gaze still on the floor.
"Okay, Clara !" She smiled at the name.
She stepped from the house onto manicured grounds bathed in lavender dusk. The air smelled of damp earth and silent secrets.
To one corner,she felt life there.... in the whole of the mansion: flowers—black as night, it looked like rose but was black in color and there was no petals. It was the only bloom standing bold amid trimmed hedges.
Nerine's breath hitched.
She approached slowly. Black flowers. Only flowers that survived here. Her mind clung to a memory of her dream—the violet bud that bloomed at her touch.
She pressed a fingertip to the velvet petal.
It remained still.
She exhaled slowly. No magic.
Maybe she was just overthinking things.she took a deep breath.
But made a firm mental note: she would watch the flowers here. She needed something real in this place.
Word Reached Kael,He stood in the study when the butler informed him of Nerine's actions.
"She ate alone… then walked the grounds," the butler reported.
Kael exhaled quietly. "Indeed." A wry edge crept into his voice. "Bold of her, to wander before she commands a presence here."
"She seems curious—gentle, even."
Kael's lip curled. "Curiosity in an unknown territory is dangerous."
Nerine slipped back through the hallway, guided only by dim sconces. The air had chilled further. Nights at Blackthorn were colder, heavier.
She entered her room and closed the door softly behind her.
She sank onto the bed, limbs aching as though crossed with shadows.
She touched the ruby between her fingers.
Sofia... the name felt alien on her tongue, yet it clung.
She lay down and closed her eyes.
As she drifted, she whispered herself to sleep:
I will play their game. I will obey. I will be invisible.
Obedience....she had to be that .....it was very important.
But beneath that vow, something pulsed.
Something ember-hot and whispering, it will not stay invisible.