It began with coincidences.
At least, that's what they seemed like.
The first was small — a flower pot slipping from a balcony as Zelene crossed the courtyard below.
The crash came a heartbeat too late.
Shards of clay scattered across her path, soil speckling the hem of her gown.
Ray was the one who reacted first, his arm shooting out to pull her aside.
"What is this?" he hissed, looking up. No one was there. Just the wind, rustling the ivy.
Zelene's pulse thrummed in her throat. "Accidents happen."
Ray didn't look convinced. "Not that kind."
The second came that evening.
A chandelier chain snapped in the grand hall — right as Zelene passed beneath it.
The fixture crashed against the marble, glass shattering in a rain of glittering knives.
This time, even Kael had heard it. He was at the far end of the corridor, his shadow slicing through the golden light as he turned sharply.
"What happened?"
Zelene stood frozen, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. "It fell."
His gaze swept from her to the wreckage, to the trembling servants, and then to Miren — standing too calmly by the stairwell.
Her expression was unreadable. Unbothered.
Almost… watching.
Kael's tone was sharp. "Who maintains this hall?"
"Lady Miren oversees all maintenance," one of the servants stammered.
For a fleeting instant, Zelene thought she saw it — the faintest flicker of irritation in Miren's gaze. But then it was gone, replaced by her usual grace.
"I will ensure this does not happen again, Your Grace," Miren said smoothly, bowing.
Zelene didn't say a word.
But something cold and sharp settled in her gut.
That night, the manor felt alive with whispers.
Every step echoed. Every shadow seemed to lean closer.
Zelene moved through the hall in silence, her lantern dimmed to a whisper of light.
"Are you sure about this?" Ray's voice murmured beside her, low enough to blend with the creak of the floorboards.
"No," Zelene whispered back. "But I'm tired of being the one almost crushed by falling chandeliers."
They moved quietly through the servants' wing — a narrow corridor lined with portraits and old draperies. The air was colder here, carrying the faint scent of wax and damp stone.
Then, through the sliver of an open door, they saw her.
Miren.
Standing before a mirror. Alone.
At first, it looked harmless — her reflection serene as she brushed her hair.
But the mirror's surface moved.
Ripples spread across it like water.
And behind her reflection, something watched back.
Zelene's breath caught. The runes near the floorboards pulsed faintly, responding to a presence unseen.
Miren's voice broke the silence — soft, reverent, and wrong.
"Through devotion, we are bound. Through pain, we are purified."
She pressed her palm against the mirror. For a heartbeat, her hand sank through the glass.
The reflection shimmered — then bled with faint streaks of crimson light.
Ray tensed beside Zelene, eyes wide. "She's—"
"Shh." Zelene gripped his sleeve.
Miren withdrew her hand, her face now illuminated by a faint glow from beneath her skin — thin, thread-like lines snaking up her neck like veins of fire.
Zelene's pendant warmed at her chest, reacting — Aether stirring as if it knew what it saw.
The mirror's whisper deepened.
A shape moved within it, formless and dark, its outline pulsing like a heartbeat.
And when Miren spoke again, her tone carried the weight of devotion twisted into something monstrous.
"I will not let her take him from us."
Zelene's stomach dropped. Her.
It could only mean one thing.
Ray's expression hardened. "We need to go."
Zelene hesitated — torn between fear and fury.
Her mind raced. So the accidents… the chandelier, the pot — they weren't random. They were warnings. Or attempts.
And all of them pointed to one truth:
Miren was trying to remove her.
The lantern light flickered. Miren's head turned — sharply.
The mirror's glow dimmed, and Zelene barely managed to pull Ray back into the shadows.
Footsteps.
Slow. Graceful. Drawing nearer.
Miren stepped into the corridor, her face once again calm, saintly even — but her eyes… they glinted like blades in the dark.
She paused for a moment, as though sensing something.
"Curiosity," she murmured to the empty hall. "It always kills the unworthy."
Then she walked away.
Zelene didn't breathe until her footsteps faded completely.
Ray exhaled shakily. "Remind me never to call you paranoid again."
Zelene's fingers trembled slightly, still gripping the pendant beneath her collarbone.
"She's connected to something… not human," she whispered. "And she's doing it in his name."
Ray frowned. "Kael?"
She nodded slowly, her voice a quiet tremor. "She's doing this for him. Or what she believes he should be."
Later, as Zelene finally returned to her chambers, she caught sight of Kael in the corridor — speaking to Darius, his expression shadowed, tired.
His eyes briefly flicked toward her — curious, almost searching — before he turned away.
For the first time, Zelene realized that if Miren was willing to harm her, Kael was already walking on the edge of something much darker.
And she couldn't — wouldn't — let the curse claim another Dravenhart.
Even if it meant walking straight into the fire herself.