The western wing of the Pierce estate was even quieter than the rest of the mansion.
But then again, this house had never felt alive.
No voices.
No footsteps.
Only the sound of wind slipping through the cracks, and the faint ticking of a clock Aaron couldn't find.
Kain led him down a narrow spiral staircase.
The carpet was thick and dark-blue. It swallowed every sound of their steps.
Ancient tapestries lined the walls—torn and faded depictions of battles, strange beasts, and crowned figures whose stitched eyes felt too real.
---
"You'll sleep here," Kain said, pushing open a wooden door.
The room was small, almost bare.
A metal-framed bed.
A plain desk under a narrow window that overlooked the eastern gardens.
Clean. Neat. Too perfect. Like no one had lived there in years.
Aaron dropped his bag onto the bed. His voice was quiet.
"Do other servants live here?"
Kain paused. His silver eyes didn't blink.
"No. This wing is only for those who serve Lord Pierce directly."
That didn't make Aaron feel any safer.
---
"Your duties start at sunrise," Kain continued.
"Wake Lord Pierce. Prepare his tea. Black, one drop of honey. He hates dust. He hates lateness. And he hates disobedience."
Aaron nodded quickly, trying to memorize the instructions.
Kain was almost out the door when he added,
"One more thing. Never enter the western library unless summoned. And no matter what—do not open the blue door at the end of the hall."
Aaron frowned. "Why? What's behind—"
But the door slammed shut before he could finish.
The silence that followed was heavy. Almost watchful.
---
That night, sleep didn't come easily.
When he did dream, he saw things:
Whispering halls.
Mirrors that refused to show his reflection.
Eyes glowing from the corners of the dark.
Aaron woke before dawn, drenched in sweat. His heart pounded.
He didn't know if it was exhaustion… or the mansion itself.
---
He dressed quickly and combed down his dark-blue hair.
The halls were still half asleep, but Aaron remembered Kain's orders and found his way to the kitchen.
The mansion's layout was unnervingly balanced. Symmetrical. Like a puzzle.
He gathered tea, honey, and a silver tray, his hands steady despite the pressure.
But taking it to Lord Pierce's chamber was worse.
The corridor was dim, lit only by a few candles. Their flames threw long, crooked shadows across the walls.
And somewhere… behind one of the closed doors…
Aaron could have sworn he heard breathing.
Not sleep. Not rest.
Waiting.
He forced himself forward and knocked.
---
"Enter," came Lord Pierce's voice.
Aaron pushed open the door.
The chamber was massive.
Dark wood. Towering bookshelves. A ladder leaning against them.
A wide bed with heavy curtains at its center.
Lord Pierce sat nearby in a high-backed chair, reading a letter.
He wore a long black coat with a high collar.
"You're on time," Pierce said, not looking up. "Good. Most people aren't."
Aaron set the tea on the table. His hands didn't shake. Not yet.
He opened his mouth to speak—
But Pierce raised a hand.
"I don't like conversation in the morning."
Aaron nodded and stepped back.
Pierce took a slow sip. His eyes closed for a heartbeat, then opened again—sharp, burning.
Not anger. Not judgment.
Curiosity.
"You dreamed last night," he said.
Aaron froze. "How… how do you know?"
"This house affects the mind," Pierce said. "Especially those who are more… sensitive."
"I'm not—" Aaron started, then stopped. He didn't even know what he wanted to claim.
Pierce rose. His steps made no sound on the wooden floor.
"The dreams will grow stronger. You'll see things you don't understand. Hear things that aren't real."
Aaron's throat was dry. "Why me?"
Pierce's lips curved slightly. "Because you were meant to be here."
---
Before Aaron could respond, the door opened.
Kain stood in the frame, silver eyes steady.
"Forgive the intrusion, my lord. A visitor has arrived."
"At this hour?" Pierce asked, brows lowering.
"She says it's urgent. She's from the royal court."
Pierce's expression shifted. "Take her to the red salon."
Then, turning to Aaron:
"Come with me. You may learn something."
Aaron blinked. "Me?"
"Yes," Pierce said, already walking. His coat brushed the floor like shadow.
"You are no longer just a servant."