Theo's gaze lingered on me, his sandy brows arching in silent critique as the echo of Mara's departure still hung in the air. The room was thick with unspoken tension, and I found myself rooted to the spot, my eyes still fixed on the door she had just walked through long after it had closed behind her.
"Lost in thought, or merely lost?" Theo quipped his tone light but tinged with curiosity. His light green eyes glinted with a knowing look, a testament to the years he had spent reading the subtle nuances of my moods.
I blinked, shaking off the invisible chains that had held me captive. "It's her, Theo. She's the girl I've been searching for," I said, the realization still sending waves of disbelief through me.
Theo's initial confusion spread across his features like a crack forming on the surface of a frozen pond. "Are you certain?" His voice dropped to a whisper, laced with the shock that clung to him like a shadow.
Without a word, I reached into the inner pocket of my jacket and withdrew the ornate locket I had carried for years. I snapped it open with a flick of my thumb, revealing two small photographs nestled within the velvet interior. The images were faded with age, but the resemblance was unmistakable: one was of me as a young boy, my silvery-white hair making that obvious, and the other was of a young girl with the same dark hair and striking features as the woman who had just left the room.
"She is this little girl," I affirmed, the intensity of my silver-gray eyes betraying the calm facade I tried to maintain.
"Why didn't she recognize you?" Theo asked, voicing the question that had been gnawing at the edges of my mind since the moment I had seen her.
"I don't know," I admitted, a note of sadness creeping into my voice.
I closed the locket and held it close to my chest, feeling the cool metal press against my skin. It had been fifteen years since I last saw her, and now, after all this time, I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her. What had she been through? Where had she been? My mind spun with questions, each one more desperate than the last. But before I could let myself drown in those thoughts, Theo's voice cut through, calm and steady.
"What if it isn't her, Your Grace?" he asked, his tone betraying none of the dread that gripped my heart.
I didn't want to consider that possibility. Not yet. I needed to hold onto the hope that it was really her. After all these years, I'd finally found her. I turned to Theo, ready to brush off his doubt, but when I looked at him, I saw something I hadn't expected: concern. Theo, usually so composed, actually looked troubled.
"Speak, Theo," I ordered, my voice a little sharper than intended.
Theo sighed, as if he was hesitant to voice what was on his mind. "The reports I've received about the Xoltecans in Aeloria... they describe a certain appearance. What if she's one of them, Your Grace? Isn't it possible that she just looks like the one you're searching for?"
His words made my blood boil. My glare was so intense that it silenced him immediately. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to respond calmly even though I was anything but. "It's her, Theo. I know it."
But even as I said the words, I could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. He wasn't entirely convinced, and maybe, deep down, neither was I.
*
As I approached the towering doors, intricately carved with blooming roses and entwined ivy, my breath caught in my throat. When the doors swung open, I was immediately struck by the sheer luxury that greeted me, which was starkly different from what I had seen so far in the mansion.
The room was nothing short of magnificent. A four-poster bed, massive enough to dwarf my entire apartment back home, dominated the space. Its posts soared toward the frescoed ceiling, while velvet curtains, as deep and rich as the midnight sky, were draped over large windows that took up an entire wall. Overhead, a chandelier glittered, its crystals catching the light and scattering rainbows across the chamber.
Pascal's voice cut through my reverie. "Katherine will tend to your needs during your stay," he informed me. I turned to see a young girl with strawberry-blonde hair and a dusting of freckles across her cheeks, her smile warm and welcoming.
"Thank you, Pascal," I managed to say, though my eyes were still taking in every detail of the room.
"If you require anything during your stay, do not hesitate to ask," he added before retreating down the hall, his footsteps echoing in the silence.
Left alone with Katherine, I began to feel the weight of my new surroundings, the strangeness of it all settling around me like a heavy cloak.
"Welcome, Miss Mara," Katherine said, her voice soft and melodic. "I am at your service. Would you like something to eat? Or perhaps a bath might be more to your liking?"
The thought of a bath, something I hadn't had the luxury of since arriving in this world, was irresistible. "A bath would be wonderful," I murmured, my gratitude evident in my tone. "Thank you, Katherine."
"Please, call me Kat," she said with a smile that felt like a ray of sunshine in the dim room. With a nod, she turned and disappeared behind a door partially concealed by an opulent tapestry, her footsteps a whisper on the stone floor.
Left to my thoughts once again, I allowed myself to be lulled by the comforting sound of running water that soon filled the air. I closed my eyes and let a small smile play on my lips—a smile born from the sheer relief of something as simple as a bath. In the village, bathing was a matter of survival, but here, it was an indulgence, a testament to the castle's grandeur.
A pang of nostalgia clenched at my chest as I thought about the villagers, their hatred plastered on their faces, and Adelia's tearful goodbye. I resolved to send word of my safety as soon as possible to ease their fears.
Drawn to the large window that framed the chamber, I approached it, letting my eyes drink in the sight of the gardens below. They were in full bloom, a riot of colors that seemed to pulse with life, painting a vivid picture against the backdrop of this strange, new world.
"Your bath is ready, Miss Mara," Kat's voice called out, bringing me back to the present. The subtle scent of lavender drifted through the air as she reappeared.
"Thank you," I replied, my voice soft as I reluctantly tore my gaze from the beautiful landscape beyond the window. I stepped across the threshold into the washroom, feeling the steam curl around me in a welcoming embrace.
As I began to undress, I suddenly felt another set of hands helping me. Startled, I turned around to see Kat standing there with an innocent smile on her face. "Please, allow me to assist you," she said. But I quickly stepped away, feeling a bit uncomfortable. It had been years since anyone had helped me with a bath—since I was a kid, really, when my mom used to do it. The only other times I had someone else in the tub with me had been...well, not exactly about getting clean.
Trying to keep my voice calm, I said, "I can do it myself, thanks." When Kat didn't move, I added, "In my homeland, we bathe ourselves."
That seemed to finally get through to her. She gave a slight bow and said, "Call out if you need anything," before leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind her.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and finished undressing. Stepping into the bath, I immediately felt the warm water work its magic on my tense muscles. I hadn't realized just how tense I was until that moment. As I leaned back in the tub, I fought the urge to drift off to sleep—partly because I was afraid I might drown and partly because I was scared of having another nightmare.
Now that I was alone and felt somewhat safe, my thoughts wandered back to the dreams I'd been having lately. They felt less like dreams and more like forgotten memories. Or no...not forgotten—suppressed. But why would I want to suppress any memories? I closed my eyes, trying to piece together what I'd seen in those dreams, but nothing seemed to fit. Then it hit me—"that boy." It had something to do with the boy who kept appearing, whose voice I kept hearing. But who was he? And why couldn't I remember him?
Somehow, deep down, I knew that boy was connected to my parents. I wished I could go back home and ask my dad about it, though I doubted it would help. He was always vague and dismissive whenever I tried to talk about my childhood or anything to do with my mom. Unlike other people I knew who lost a parent and clung to their memory, my dad had done the opposite. After my mom died, it was like she vanished overnight—every photo, every item that had belonged to her, gone. And if I ever asked about her, he'd scold me or change the subject. For a long time, I wondered if he had something to do with her death, but one drunken night had proved that theory wrong.
Before I could dwell on that memory, there was a knock at the bathroom door. "Miss Mara, are you alright? You've been in there for a while," Kat's voice called out.
She was right—the water had gone cold. I shivered as I realized how much time had passed. "I'll be right out," I called back. I got out of the tub, the water dripping down my body as I reached for the plush towel Kat had left out for me, along with an equally plush robe in a deep midnight blue.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, I noticed the excited look on Kat's face, as if she was barely containing herself.
"His Grace has requested your presence at dinner tonight."
At the mention of dinner, my stomach growled loudly, reminding me of how long it had been since I'd last eaten—just the small basket Elowyn had given me that morning.
I was exhausted, but I knew I'd regret it if I skipped dinner. I glanced around for the dress I had been wearing, thinking I'd just put that back on, but I couldn't find it.
"Where's the dress I was wearing?" I asked Kat.
"I've taken it to be washed, Miss Mara," she replied.
"Will it be ready by dinner?" I asked, not expecting the stunned look she gave me like I was crazy for even asking.
"You couldn't wear that dress to dinner with a Duke, Miss Mara."
"But I have nothing else to wear," I said, starting to feel a bit panicked.
"Don't worry about that, miss," Kat said, her voice brightening again. "His Grace has allowed us to use some gowns left from the former duchess."
My heart ached at the mention of a former duchess. So, the Duke had been married...and was now a widower?
"Now, sit," Kat said, gently pushing me towards the chair in front of the vanity. She took the towel and began drying my hair, "Allow me to help you get ready for dinner."
I was grateful, but then I caught a glint of mischief in her eye. Just what was she planning?