THE HALF-BLOOD LUNA

Chapter 8

I woke before the knock came. Not because I wanted to.Not because I was ready.

But because sleep had stopped feeling like something I could keep hold of. It slipped away in pieces last night quietly, like it had been asked to leave.

And what was left behind… was me.

I decided not to think of the dream I had last night or talk to anyone about it. Olenna would have been the best person to interpret it, but I still didn't trust anyone just yet. My family is dead, and who or what killed them is something I don't know yet, and what if I was around their enemy?

The room hadn’t changed.

The hearth still burned low, giving off a tired kind of warmth. Curtains hung half-drawn like they couldn’t decide whether to reveal the world or hide it. Pale morning light pushed through anyway, hesitant, as if even the sun wasn’t fully sure about entering this place.

But I felt different. Not the castle.

Me.

I sat up slowly, my fingers resting on the edge of the blanket longer than necessary, like I was trying to anchor myself back into something familiar.

But the memory was already there.

The hidden hallway. The crescent is carved into stone.

The door Eric told me not to enter.

Not because it would hurt me.

But because it wasn’t meant to be remembered.

That thought stayed too close to my mind, like it had found somewhere to sit and refused to move.

The maids knocked and then entered.

Bath. Routine. Silence. Except that Vexa liked to talk

“So, how are you coping so far?” she asked

“I think I'm doing just fine,” I replied

“That's good, you will get used to it soon, the castle is a safe place and also peaceful,” she said

Everything continued as if nothing had shifted. But something inside me had. And I couldn’t return it to how it was before.

Breakfast arrived like every other morning.

I barely touched it.

The food looked the same, smelled the same, but I couldn’t convince myself it mattered. Then came the knock.

Eric entered like he always did, too relaxed for someone who moved through a place like this. Like the castle didn’t press against him the way it pressed against everything else.

But he stopped immediately when he saw me.

“You didn’t sleep,” he said.

Not a question.

A fact.

I blinked at him. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “You look like you argued with your own thoughts and lost.”

That almost pulled a smile out of me. Almost.

“You noticed quickly,” I said.

He shrugged. “It’s my job. Apparently.”

I studied him for a moment longer than I meant to.

“Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re saying everything except what you actually mean.”

He went still for half a second.

Then he laughed lightly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Careful,” he said. “That sounds like you’re starting to understand me.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Good,” he replied. “I prefer difficult.”

But his gaze stayed on me a little too long after that.

Like he was checking something.

Or making a decision he hadn’t spoken aloud yet. Then he straightened.

“Steward wants you later,” he said. “Same schedule.”

I nodded.

But I wasn’t really listening anymore.

Because my mind had already slipped back behind a door I shouldn’t have opened.

He led me out again.

But today, the castle didn’t feel the same.

Not louder.

Not colder.

Just… aware.

Like, it knew I knew something I shouldn’t.

I noticed it in the smallest things.

A guard’s eyes linger half a second too long.

A servant bowing deeper than necessary, as if trying to avoid being seen.

A noble stopped mid-sentence when I passed, as though my presence interrupted more than conversation.

Eric was quieter today.

That alone told me something was wrong.

“So,” I said after a while, “are you always this quiet when nothing is happening?”

He glanced at me. “Nothing is happening?”

“You know what I mean.”

A pause.

Then he said, almost casually, “Sometimes nothing is just waiting.”

I frowned. “Waiting for what?”

He didn’t answer right away.

When he did, his voice was lower.

“For someone to do something they shouldn’t.”

That stayed in the air longer than he did.

I felt her before I saw her.

That strange pressure like being noticed without being touched. Kira was by the window again.

But this time, she wasn’t surrounded.

She was alone.

Waiting.

For some reason, that made my steps slow without permission.

Eric noticed. He didn’t stop me. Kira looked up the moment I came into view.

Not the corridor.

Not Eric.

Me.

Only me.

“Lost again?” she asked softly.

I hesitated.

“I wasn’t lost.”

“No,” she said after a moment, studying me. “You don’t look like someone who gets lost easily.”

It wasn’t kindness.

It wasn’t an accusation either.

Just… recognition.

Then her eyes shifted briefly to Eric.

“And you,” she added, almost lightly, “are still attached to your assignment.”

Eric stiffened.

Just slightly. But I saw it.

Kira saw it too.

She always seemed to see everything without trying.

Then, just as suddenly as she appeared in our path, she stepped aside.

“Carry on,” she said.

Like we were nothing more than a passing interruption.

But her gaze lingered on me a fraction too long before she turned away.

And I hated that I noticed.

The instruction room felt colder than usual. Or maybe I was just finally paying attention to it. Same table.Same silence.

The same controlled breathing of people who had learned not to take up space.

But now I saw things I hadn’t before.

Who avoided looking at me. Who looked too long. Who pretended I wasn’t there at all.

The steward entered without ceremony.

“Today will be shorter,” he said.

No reason.

No explanation.

Just control disguised as adjustment.

He spoke about ranks again.

Behavior again.

Restrictions again.

But I barely heard him.

Because in my mind, I kept seeing a stone.

A crescent.

A door.

The dream.

And Eric’s voice saying something I couldn’t unhear.

That part of the castle isn’t meant to be remembered. Not forbidden.Not dangerous.Forgotten.

That word sat heavier than anything else. Forgotten meant it had been removed on purpose. And anything removed on purpose usually had a reason.

When it ended, we left the way we always did: quiet, structured, trained.

I stayed behind a second longer than the others. Eric was already waiting outside.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” he said immediately.

I looked at him. “You can tell that too?”

“I’m getting better at you.”

“That sounds like a problem.”

“It probably is.”

We walked.

But I slowed without meaning to.

“Eric.”

He glanced at me. “Yeah?”

“You said parts of the castle aren’t meant to be remembered.”

For a moment, he didn’t answer.

The air between us tightened.

Not aggressively.

Just carefully.

Like something fragile had been placed between us, and neither of us wanted to breathe too hard.

“I said a lot of things,” he finally replied.

I stopped walking.

So did he.

We faced each other in the corridor.

Not close.

Not far.

Just… aware.

“I saw it again,” I said quietly.

Something changed in his expression.

Not his face.

His stillness.

“Don’t go back there,” he said.

No humor.

No softness.

Just certainty.

I held his gaze.

“Why?”

A pause stretched too long.

Then he said, slower this time, “Because the castle doesn’t forget things by accident. It forgets them on purpose.”

That should have been enough.

It wasn’t.

But I nodded anyway.

And we kept walking.

That night, I stood by my window longer than I should have.

The forest outside didn’t change.

It never did.

That was the problem.

Still, things shouldn’t feel this intentional.

And for the first time, I understood something I didn’t want to understand.

Silence wasn’t empty.

It could be built.

Shaped.

Maintained.

And somewhere inside this castle, I was still learning to read, something had already noticed that I was learning.

I turned away from the window.

That was when I heard it. A knock.Soft.Measured.At my door.

I froze.

Because no one came to my chamber at this hour unless it was urgent.

Or unless it was Eric.

But this knock wasn’t his rhythm.

It was slower.

Deliberate.

Like whoever stood outside wasn’t in a hurry

because they already knew I would open it.

I didn’t move.

The knock came again.

Once.

Then silence.

Then

A whisper, barely audible through the wood.

“Nyra.”

My name.

Not shouted.

Not announced.

Said as it belonged here.

It was the same voice I had in my dream, it sounded like it was trying to draw me in, trying to tell me something, trying everything to get me to accept it.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the window frame behind me.

I should have called for the guards. I should have stepped back. I should have done something that made sense.

Instead

I walked toward the door.

Slowly.

Each step is too loud in my ears. The room felt smaller with every breath I took.

The handle stared back at me.

Still.

Waiting.

Another knock came.

Closer this time.

Or maybe I was just imagining it.

I reached for the handle.

And stopped.

Because from the other side

I heard something that made my breath catch completely.

A voice.

Deep.

Old.

Familiar.

“Aria”

My heart dropped

That was Harry’s voice: The knock came one last time.

And then

Silence.Too complete.Too clean.

Like someone had stepped away… the moment I decided to listen.

I stared at the door.

My hand was hovering just above the handle.

And then, very softly

The metal key inside the lock turned on its own……………..