The door closed softly behind her with a dull click, sealing Zaria in the forbidden East Wing. The silence was immediate and unnatural—no footsteps, no wind, no distant echo from the feast still echoing in the main hall. Only the dim flickering of torches guided her, their flames unnaturally steady.
She took a cautious step forward.
"Zaria…"
The whisper came again. It echoed through the hallway as if the very walls carried the voice.
"Where are you?" she whispered back.
There was no answer—only the low groan of old wood and a cold draft that crept across her skin like fingers.
Zaria wrapped her arms around herself. The corridor stretched endlessly ahead, lined with faded portraits. The people in the paintings looked down at her with eyes too lifelike, too knowing. A chill passed through her as she quickened her pace.
Then she heard it—a muffled sob.
She turned a corner and found a door slightly ajar, pale blue light spilling through the crack. Her heart thundered. She pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the creak.
Inside was a circular chamber lit by floating orbs of light. The air was thick with the scent of dust, roses, and something older… like forgotten magic.
In the center of the room stood a mirror taller than any she'd seen, framed in twisted gold vines. But what made Zaria's breath catch was the reflection.
It wasn't hers.
In the glass stood a woman—young, pale, dressed in a wedding gown that shimmered like moonlight. Her face was hauntingly beautiful, her eyes hollow.
"You can hear me," the woman said softly.
Zaria stepped closer. "Who are you?"
The woman in the mirror raised a trembling hand, pressing it against the glass. Zaria mirrored the motion instinctively—and the chill that shot through her fingertips made her gasp.
"I was like you," the woman whispered. "Brought here. Promised safety. Promised love. But I was a key to something darker."
"What happened to you?" Zaria asked.
The woman's lips quivered. "He loved me. And that was the curse. Love, in this place, is a trap."
Zaria's mind raced. "You knew Prince Kael?"
A pause. Then: "He tried to save me. But the darkness in this castle is older than him. Older than kings."
Zaria stepped back. "What do you want from me?"
The woman's expression twisted into sorrow. "Leave. Run. Before it takes you too."
And then—without warning—the mirror cracked.
Not a small chip. A *shatter* that echoed like a scream, and the woman's figure vanished.
Zaria stumbled backward, falling onto her side. When she looked up, the mirror was whole again.
The door slammed shut behind her.
---
She ran.
Her bare feet echoed through the cold corridor as the lights above her flickered wildly. The portraits on the walls seemed to watch her, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. A sound like a thousand whispers chased her down the hall, hissing words she couldn't understand.
When she finally burst into the main hall, her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the stone floor.
"Zaria!"
She looked up—Kael was there, descending the staircase in long, purposeful strides. His cloak billowed behind him like smoke.
He knelt beside her, grabbing her arms. "What were you doing in the East Wing?"
She tried to speak, but only a sob escaped her lips.
Kael pulled her to her feet. "Who let you in?"
"N-no one. I heard a voice," she gasped. "A woman. In a mirror—she was trapped. She said she was like me. She knew you."
His face paled slightly, the only crack she'd seen in his controlled mask.
He turned and barked an order to the guards, "Seal the East Wing. Now."
The guards sprinted off without question.
Kael gripped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Did you touch the mirror?"
Zaria nodded.
He muttered a curse under his breath.
"You weren't supposed to see that."
"Who was she?" Zaria asked. "Is she… real?"
Kael let her go and turned away, jaw clenched. "She was once my fiancée. She died in that room nearly seven years ago."
"But she's still there—trapped."
"No. That's not her." He looked over his shoulder, eyes dark. "That's the curse mimicking her image. Feeding on your emotions."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you wouldn't have believed me," he said quietly. "And because if the curse notices *you*, it doesn't stop."
Zaria stared at him, heart pounding. "You said I wasn't a prisoner—but you've locked me in a place filled with secrets and ghosts."
Kael stepped closer again, this time slower, his voice calmer. "I didn't want this life for you. But you're here now, and the castle has *seen* you. If you leave now, it won't let you go."
She shook her head. "I don't believe that."
"You will," he said.
Then, to her surprise, he reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek.
"I'll guard your life, Zaria. But you must obey from now on."
She didn't speak. She didn't nod. But she didn't pull away, either.
---
That night, Kael stayed by the fire in her chamber, eyes fixed on the flames. Zaria lay on the bed, watching him from a distance, wondering what secrets he still held close.
Outside, the wind howled against the castle walls like a wounded animal.
And deep in the East Wing, behind the sealed doors, the mirror stood untouched.
But if anyone had dared to look into it again…
They would have seen the woman inside…
Smiling.