It rained the next morning.
Not heavily—just a soft, silver mist brushing the windowpanes. The kind of rain my mother used to love.
I sat by the window, the old notebook open in my lap. Blank pages. Waiting.
I hadn't written a single spell.
Not yet.
The door creaked open behind me.
"Young master," Ellis said gently. "You're excused from lessons today. The Duke has business in the city."
I turned. Father? Leaving the estate?
That was rare.
"Where is Aria?" I asked.
"She's in the west garden, under the pavilion. Her ribbon came loose, and she refused to go inside until she found it." He sighed. "I offered to help, but she said only her brother is allowed."
A small smile tugged at my lips. "I'll go."
The west garden had always been quieter than the rest of the estate. Older. Untamed. My mother's garden.
I hadn't stepped foot here since the funeral.
Rain made everything glisten. The white stones beneath my feet were slick. Ivy curled around archways, and tall silver-bloom trees swayed in the breeze. The whole place felt like it was holding its breath.
There, beneath the pale awning of the pavilion, sat Aria — cross-legged and frowning.
"It flew away," she muttered. "Stupid wind."
I knelt beside her. "Want help?"
She looked up. "You never came here before."
"Not since Mother…" I paused, unable to finish.
Aria tilted her head. "Do you remember her?"
I blinked. "Of course I do."
"Sometimes I think I forgot," she whispered. "Not her face. But her voice. Her laugh."
I gently fixed her hair. "She'd laugh at you chasing a ribbon in the rain."
She smiled a little at that, but then glanced toward the far end of the garden. "Do you hear that?"
A faint sound.
Humming.
Soft. Slow. Familiar.
I froze.
That song.
That was her song.
I stood. The sound seemed to drift from beyond the garden path, near the wall hidden behind thick vines.
We were never allowed past that point.
Still… my feet moved.
Aria stayed behind.
The vines shifted beneath my fingers, curling back like they were alive. Behind them, a silver-handled door waited. Old, but not rusted.
I had never seen it before.
It opened easily.
The room beyond was small. Quiet. Untouched by time.
Shelves of dried herbs and journals lined the walls. A harp rested in the corner. And at the center of it all stood a mirror.
Tall. Oval. Framed in silver branches.
It shimmered faintly in the dim light.
I stepped closer.
The air changed.
The necklace at my chest grew warm — not hot, not painful. Just… aware.
Then — a flicker.
The mirror rippled. And for the briefest moment, I saw a silhouette.
Silver hair. Pale skin. Eyes like moonlight.
I couldn't breathe.
"Mother…" I whispered.
The figure was gone in an instant.
Only my reflection remained.
Small. Still. Alone.
I stared into the glass for a long time.
Was it a memory?
A trick?
Or… something left behind?
The necklace pulsed once against my skin, faint and steady.
No answers came.
Just silence.
When I stepped outside, the rain had stopped. The air felt lighter somehow, though I wasn't sure why.
Aria stood at the edge of the path, ribbon in hand.
"Find anything weird?" she asked.
I looked back once toward the hidden door.
"No," I said softly. "Just… a quiet place."
That night, I lay in bed with the curtains open. The sky was cloudless now, and stars blinked gently overhead.
The necklace pulsed again.
Soft.
Almost like a heartbeat.
Something about today had shifted. Like the world had tilted slightly off its axis.
I couldn't explain it.
But as sleep crept in, a quiet thought nestled into my mind—
I was being watched.
Not by enemies.
Not by fate.
But something older.
Something… waiting.
[End of Chapter 3]