House Honeysuckle had two sons known to society and a final hidden to the world. That was because the third son was believed to have gone mad. Many whispered of his existence, yet few had ever laid their eyes upon him. Yet one person had once known the third son, Lady Astra Cross.
Lady Astra Cross's death drove Lucas Honeysuckle down a downward spiral. Lady Gardenia stood outside Lucas's chamber after the events at dinner. She was surprised to learn the friend she had made one winter night was a Honeysuckle clan member. There was no madness in Lucas when they first met; there was only a brilliant mind.
If Gardenia were to tell him she was now the inhabitant of his sister's body, would he believe her? Lady Gardenia stood outside the chamber for a bearably long time before finally knocking, but no response came. Worried, she tried the handle and found the room unlocked.
Inside was cold and dark like her old chamber, but unlike her old chamber, papers and books were scattered everywhere. Lucas was a scholar at heart, and why the Marchi kept him hidden was beyond her.
Sprawled on the floor with his face to the window and a portrait to his heart, Lucas lay immobile, his clothes in disarray, hair disheveled, and shoes forgotten in a corner. Astra had always considered Lucas a close friend, but it seemed he had seen her as more. The portrait he held against his bosom was one of Astra's sketched with great care.
They spent countless nights with her sitting before him as he sketched. Lucas had once called her his beguiling muse. The portrait Lucas held was one where Astra agreed to sit bare under the moonlight with only a shawl around her shoulders and her hair unbound.
Lucas portrayed her as an ethereal being, or perhaps that was how he saw all.
The longer Gardenia stared at the portrait, the worse she felt. How could she not have realized what he felt towards her? It was too late. As she watched Lucas in anguish, Lady Gardenia realized that telling him of her end would only be cruel. At that moment, Gardenia decided not to seek him out again, for it would only complicate matters.
As Gardenia turned to leave, a hoarse voice asked, "What do you want?"
The heartache in Lucas's voice made Gardenia's heartache. "It was nothing. I wanted to ensure you were well."
The room was filled with a manic laugh, "So you finally stopped pretending; I thought you wanted to live, dearest sister."
Gardenia had a vague memory of a conversation had long ago. "To survive, we must not stand out. Do you understand what I am saying?" That's right; Lucas saved her when they were children. It was Lucas who had instructed her to pretend to be mute and crippled; it was safer that way.
Lady Gardenia snorted, "Have we truly been living or simply holding on by a thread?" she turned to look at her brother, "I think it's time we stopped being what they expect and topple all that gets in our way."
Lucas set up carefully, placing the portrait to the side. His head tilted like a cat examining prey, "Who are you?"
Gardenia smiled, "Your sister, who else would I be?"
Within a flash, Lucas had her by the throat, "Your soul is not that of my sister. I'll ask once more, who are you?"
The hold Lucas held against her throat was making it hard to think. First, the Marchi declared Gardenia was forbidden from setting foot outside the manor, and now Lucas was trying to crush the life out of her. A tear escaped her as she clawed at his hand, a drop of blood getting on the bracelet the High Mage gave her.
A gust of wind burst the windows open, sending everything flying. Then, a cold hand took Lucas by the neck and sent him flying.
Gardenia could feel a cooling embrace as she lost consciousness. When she came too, she lay on her bed, and a faint silvery light surrounded her like a cocoon.
"I'm glad you are finally awake," the High Mage said; he sat in a corner, book in hand. "It took me great trouble to keep you in this plane of existence."
Gardenia propped herself up with her elbows, one hand reaching her throat. She could not feel any swelling; there was no way it had all been a dream.
"I doubt he choked me to death," Lady Gardenia seemed not to understand what the High Mage was trying to imply, for there was a part of her memory as Lady Astra Cross that was missing.
The High Mage set his book down and walked over to the bed. Gardenia hoisted herself up more until she was fully seated and realized she was in a silky nightgown that rose up her thigh. If she were to fix it, would it call more attention to her exposed flesh? In the end, she left it as was.
"Why are you here?" Gardenia asked as the High Mage placed a shawl over her exposed thighs.
The High Mage tucked the shawl around her legs, "You called for me," even through the fabric, his touch left a burning sensation on her skin.
Gardenia was about to say she did no such thing when she remembered a drop of Lucas's blood falling on the bracelet the High Mage had given her. It seemed it didn't need her blood to be activated; it could be anyone.
Gardenia wanted to distract herself from the sensations she was feeling and asked, "Are you truly a Mage?"
The High Mage reached out to tuck a strand of Gardenia's hair back, "I am many things; it all depends on who you ask."
"Your Guard refers to you as your Grace, a title reserved for High Nobles and Royalty." She studied him to see if there was a trace of fear or annoyance, but what she saw dumbfounded her. They had only met a few nights ago, but the High Mage wore the look of a broken lover.
The look was soon replaced by emptiness. "In this Kingdom, that may be the case, but where I come from, it is just a title used for anyone strong enough. Social standing has nothing to do with it."
"Why did you come here?" Gardenia's curiosity was making her forget caution.
The High Mage smiled, "I simply followed the red string of fate; I was simply too late. Do you remember what you promised that child, Lady Astra Cross?"