The morning began in an almost serene manner, with the soft light streaming through the tall windows of the castle. Lyra stood in the corridor, stretching as she tried to shake off the last remnants of sleep. She had just enough time to yawn when a cascade of cold water splashed over her.
Or, at least, that was the plan.
The water, aimed perfectly for her, instead caught Caelan squarely in the chest as he rounded the corner.
Eryss, perched smugly on the banister, froze for a split second before her tongue flicked out in what could only be described as a snicker.
Lyra clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing outright. Caelan stood there, dripping wet, his expression oscillating between disbelief and fury.
"Good morning," Eryss drawled, feigning innocence. "I didn't see you there."
Caelan's piercing blue eyes narrowed. "Eryss," he growled. "Explain. Now."
The snake slithered back onto Lyra's shoulder, clearly unrepentant. "It was meant for her. You just happened to walk into it. A classic case of wrong place, wrong time."
Lyra, finally unable to hold it in, burst into laughter. She doubled over, tears streaming as she pointed at Caelan's soaked hair and utterly unimpressed glare.
"I don't see what's so funny," Caelan muttered darkly.
Eryss hissed softly in amusement. "Oh, come on, Caelan. Don't act like you didn't deserve it. You've been so dour lately."
Before he could retort, a loud, deliberate knock reverberated through the castle, silencing their mirth. The sound was cold and calculated, sending a chill down Lyra's spine.
Caelan's jaw tightened. "Stay here," he ordered, striding toward the source of the sound.
Eryss hissed softly into Lyra's ear. "Oh no, you're not staying out of this."
Lyra frowned. "Why does that knock feel so… ominous?"
"Because it is." Eryss's tone was grim. "If this is who I think it is, you'll need to look like you belong here. No more wandering outsider vibes."
Lyra blinked. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Eryss said, her voice growing sharp, "you're going to be the princess this castle needs you to be. Go to your room. Now."
Lyra hesitated but followed the snake's directive, her heart pounding. Once in her chambers, Eryss directed her to the wardrobe.
Lyra's breath caught as she opened it. There, hanging as though waiting for this very moment, was a gown of black and red velvet. The bodice was intricately embroidered with roses, and the flowing skirt seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. Beside it rested a black crown, its edges tipped with delicate ruby accents that caught the faintest glimmers of light.
"I can't wear that," Lyra whispered, her fingers brushing the soft fabric.
"You can, and you will," Eryss said firmly. "This isn't about you anymore. It's about the castle, about survival. Trust me."
Minutes later, Lyra stepped out, transformed. The gown hugged her frame perfectly, the velvet cascading around her like liquid shadow. The crown rested lightly on her head, and her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders.
When she entered the hall, Caelan turned, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second.
He quickly masked his reaction, though his voice softened just slightly. "You're… ready."
"Ready for what?" Lyra asked nervously.
"For him," Eryss hissed.
The large double doors opened, revealing a man clad in dark robes. His presence was as oppressive as the knock that had summoned them. He stepped inside with an air of unshakable confidence, his gaze immediately finding Lyra.
"Well," he said, his voice low and smooth. "So the rumors are true. The castle has awakened… and so has its mistress."
Lyra fought the urge to shrink back. Instead, she straightened her shoulders, channeling every ounce of strength she could muster.
"State your purpose," she said, her voice steady and commanding. "You've come uninvited."
The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I am Veylen, an emissary of those who watch over these lands. We've sensed… changes here." His gaze flickered to Caelan briefly. "Changes that may disrupt the balance."
Eryss hissed softly into Lyra's ear. "He's testing you. Show him you're not to be trifled with."
Lyra swallowed hard, focusing on the strange energy that had lingered in her since she'd arrived at the castle. She extended her hand subtly, willing the power to respond.
The unlit candelabras along the table suddenly flared to life, their flames flickering brightly. At the same time, the scattered black rose petals lifted into the air, spinning lazily before drifting down again.
Veylen's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing as he took a step back.
"Impressive," he said after a moment, though his tone was laced with suspicion. "It seems the castle has truly found its mistress."
Lyra inclined her head, her confidence growing. "If that's all, I suggest you leave. I have no patience for those who come to question my rule."
For a moment, Veylen said nothing, his gaze locked on hers. Then, with a shallow bow, he stepped back. "I'll take my leave. For now. But this isn't over."
The doors closed behind him, leaving the room in tense silence.
Lyra let out a shaky breath, the energy leaving her as she slumped slightly.
Caelan moved closer, his expression unreadable. "That was…" He hesitated. "Unexpected."
Lyra straightened, her chin lifting. "It worked, didn't it?"
Eryss chuckled softly. "Oh, it worked. Better than I expected."
But Lyra couldn't shake the feeling that Veylen's visit was only the beginning of something far more dangerous.
---
*To be continued...*