Elara's POV
The whispers didn't stop all night, they breathed my name through the cracks in the walls, soft , patient ,waiting,
I sat by the fire until the candles burned out, hugging my knees, too afraid to blink because every time I did I saw her silver eyes flickering in the mirror, watching me, smiling like she knew something I didn't.
By morning I felt hollow, like the castle had drained something from me, I didn't even realize I was crying until Liora walked in, her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep.
"My lady, you must eat," she said, setting down a tray, her hands shaking like she has been the one haunted all night.
"I'm not hungry," I muttered, staring into the fire, "Liora, have you ever heard the walls whisper?"
She froze, her face going pale, "The castle listens," she said quickly, "but it only whispers to those it recognizes."
"Recognizes?" I asked, sitting up straighter, "you mean"
Before she could answer the doors opened and Kael stepped in, dressed in dark velvet lined with silver, his expression unreadable but softer than before.
"Leave us," he told Liora.
She bowed so low I thought she might fall before she slipped out.
Kael's was looking at my face , and he said "You didn't sleep."
"I couldn't," I replied, "she wouldn't let me."
He froze, a tiny bit of pain showing in his eyes, "Elara," he said, his voice steady but low, "there are things in this castle that feed on fear, if you let them near your heart they will take root there."
I stood slowly, moving closer, "Then tell me who she was, Kael," I said, "the woman who watches me through mirrors and water, who calls me her queen."
For a long moment he said nothing, his jaw tightening, then finally his voice softened, "Her name was Morgana," he began, "my first queen."
"I know that," I whispered, "but who was she really?"
He looked away, his hands tightening into fists, "She was light," he said, almost to himself, "and I was darkness, she loved the moon more than life itself, she believed it could make her eternal, I believed I could keep her human, we were both wrong."
He walked toward the window, the light of the rising sun bleeding through the glass, "The night she died," he continued, "the moon burned red, her power turned against her, and when she fell the castle changed, it became what she left behind, alive and cursed and remembering."
I took a step toward him, my voice softer, "You loved her."
He nodded once, his throat working, "I still do," he admitted, "in a way love shouldn't exist, it clings to me like a wound that won't heal."
I wanted to be angry but instead I felt this strange ache in my chest, not jealousy exactly, just sadness, like I was walking into someone else's dream and trying to make space for myself there.
"She won't let you go," I whispered, "and she won't let me stay."
He turned to me then and for the first time since I arrived I saw something different in his eyes, not power or control but pain, raw and real.
"You're not her," he said quietly, "and that terrifies me more than anything."
I didn't know what to say so I did something foolish, I reached for his hand, his skin was warm against mine, his heartbeat unsteady beneath my fingers, he didn't pull away.
The silence between us softened, like the air itself didn't dare breathe, for the first time his gaze wasn't distant, it was human and fragile.
Later when the day turned gray and soft rain began to fall, Kael found me in the library, the smell of old parchment and candle wax thick in the air, he stood by the shelves watching me trace the face of a book.
"You read?" he asked.
"I try," I said, smiling faintly, "though your library feels older than time."
He came closer, his presence quiet but commanding, "Some of these books remember their readers," he said, "they might even whisper your name."
I looked up at him, half smiling, "Everything in this castle whispers my name."
"Maybe it's because you finally belong to it," he murmured, his voice almost tender.
We sat together by the fire that evening, reading in silence, the kind that wasn't empty but peaceful, every now and then our eyes met and it felt like we were both learning to breathe again, learning to exist in the same room without fear.
When I yawned Kael closed his book, "Rest," he said softly, "the castle sleeps lighter when you do."
"I'll try," I replied, though I wasn't sure I could.
He hesitated at the door, looking back once, "Elara," he said, his tone quiet but heavy with something unspoken, "whatever happens, remember this, I will never let it take you."
And then he was gone, the echo of his words lingering like warmth in a cold room.
That night I dreamt again.
I was standing in the Silver Garden, the air filled with the scent of burning flowers, the moon burning red above me, the lake still as glass, and from its surface she rose, Seraphina, her gown trailing smoke, her eyes like silver fire.
"You touched his hand," she said, her voice soft and sorrowful and dangerous, "you felt his heart, didn't you?"
I tried to move, to speak, but I couldn't, my throat was tight, my chest heavy.
"You think he loves you," she whispered, moving closer, "but those tears on your face aren't yours, they're mine."
I looked down and she was right, my cheeks were wet but the tears weren't warm, they were cold as ice, shinny silver in the moonlight.
"Why are you crying?" I choked out, "what do you want from me?"
Her eyes softened but her smile was cruel, "To finish what I started," she said, and the world around me shattered like glass.
I woke up gasping, my pillow soaked, my fingers trembling, and when I wiped my cheeks the tears that glistened there were silver.