Another letter reached the small enchanted chest. Since Elladan had entrusted me with this artifact, it never ceased to fascinate me. Its utility was unparalleled, capable of transcending the very laws of space and time, allowing messages to travel between two universes separated by centuries.
Both Aldara and I longed for the day we would meet again — a promise I had made long ago. Secretly, my resentment surpassed what I had ever expected, though I struggled to conceal it.
Aldara was a young woman of genuine heart. For a long time, I tried in vain to cultivate feelings of hatred toward her, without reason or justification.
She was simply flawless and understood me like no one else. Over time, through our correspondence, the very person I once envied became my only true friend.
In my last letter, I recounted the birth of Ethannael, Elladan's firstborn and, potentially, destined to also become Aldara's child in the future. Upon receiving my words, Aldara seemed unsettled. Yet there was no reason for fear, for when we reunited, she would remember little Ethan as her own child and surely love him as such.
To her, this path might be a convenient shortcut. But for me, it would be akin to death — a shadow of the original. If I joined her again, my personality would be swallowed by the original, leaving nothing of me to be remembered. I was the one who had reason to fear.
Choosing to step through that rift, despite not knowing what awaited me, I did so with a clear mind and no regrets. For me, there was only one path. Yet it was difficult to free myself from the thoughts that haunted me — thoughts I had always rejected, but was now experiencing firsthand.
I found myself at an impasse where I had no business being. There I stood: torn between remaining in the place where everything I desired seemed within reach yet could never be mine, or seeking a way to finally break free, defying the very purpose of my existence.
Elladan insisted I remain calm, arguing that the time had not yet come. But I needed to convince him that Aldara was ready.
Or I could choose to do nothing.
It was impossible not to notice that all my problems could be solved if she simply… disappeared. I placed the chest back on the shelf, pushing the terrible thought away.
As I walked through the castle corridors, the absence of life was palpable. The vastness of the halls did not correspond to the number of inhabitants; besides me, only little Ethan was a permanent resident. The presence of servants was scarce, their appearances fleeting. Perhaps secret passages existed known only to them, but it had never concerned me. Yet, with each passing season, the solitude grew more intense.
One day, I came across a maid. Upon seeing me, she froze, ready to retreat around the nearest corner.
"Wait!" I commanded, halting her immediately. "Why such haste?"
"I'm not in a hurry, milady," she replied quickly, lowering her head.
I scrutinized her from head to toe, curiosity piqued. It was unusual to see servants in my wing of the castle, yet here she was, sneaking like a criminal.
"What are these?" I asked, pointing to the cart beside her, piled with trays I had not requested.
I did not intend to frighten her, but she began to tremble, which unsettled me.
"Forgive me, please… it's all my fault, I'm so sorry…" she blurted, desperation in her voice.
As she moved to kneel, I stopped her with a single gesture.
"Calm yourself," I ordered, impatiently glancing around before refocusing on her. "Now, tell me — where did you fail?"
She looked over my shoulder before continuing, her voice trembling through tears.
"The young master… he ran off suddenly. I couldn't prevent it. I beg your pardon, milady," she sobbed. "We had such clear orders, yet still…"
Ethan had come again! He visited me, despite knowing the prohibition. With a sigh, I turned away from the maid, heading back to my chambers. Then, the child entered my line of sight, walking naturally toward me. As if unaware of my presence, he paused beside me and greeted me politely.
"Hello, mama… milady," he corrected himself quickly, embarrassed by the slip.
Despite this, Ethan quickly composed himself, maintaining an air of maturity beyond his years. It was clear that Elladan had filled his days with lessons in etiquette, ensuring his son could behave with elegance in any situation.
"Ethan," I said, surprised by the sound of his name. "What did I say about coming to this wing of the castle?"
"It's forbidden," he replied softly, reluctant. "I'm sorry, milady. I… got lost," he lied, bowing his head.
An uncomfortable silence hung between us. There was so much I wished to say, yet nothing felt right.
"You've grown thinner," I commented awkwardly, causing his eyes to widen. "I heard you like sweets. Later, I'll have more sent to your room," I promised, though he seemed unmoved. "But don't eat too much, or it could affect your health," I reminded him. "And obey the adults!"
That was all the concern I could offer him.
"Yes, milady," Ethan nodded, and I gestured for him to leave.
As he walked away, I wanted to call him back and express my true feelings. Yet I held my emotions in check, swallowing the tears I did not deserve to shed.
"Ethan," I called, making him stop, still not facing me. "Don't get lost again."
He resumed his path, disappearing from my sight.