Scene Fourteen: Curiosity's Price
952 Words
Later that night, I lay awake staring at the carved canopy above my bed.
The manor had long since settled into silence. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, painting pale silver across the floor while the fire in the hearth had burned down to glowing embers.
Sleep refused to come.
I should have known that afternoon nap would come back to haunt me.
With an exasperated sigh, I threw back the covers.
"This is ridiculous."
The room remained stubbornly quiet.
After another few minutes of tossing from one side of the bed to the other, I finally surrendered.
"I just need to stretch my legs."
I slipped into my slippers and reached for the candle resting on my bedside table. A single strike of the match brought the wick to life, casting warm golden light across the room.
As I opened my bedroom door, Margaret's words echoed through my mind.
"Do not leave your room after sunset."
I had already broken that rule once.
Sebastian had every reason to be angry, yet instead he'd simply smiled, escorted me back to my room, and let the matter go.
The memory made me hesitate.
Things between us had been... unexpectedly pleasant these last few days.
After the gardens.
After the dance.
After dinner.
The last thing I wanted was to repay his kindness by ignoring another rule.
Still...
Surely a brief walk through the manor couldn't hurt.
I wandered quietly through the familiar corridors, the candlelight dancing across portraits and polished wood paneling. Everything looked different at night, though no longer unfamiliar. I knew these halls well enough now that I wasn't worried about losing my way.
After only a minute or two, I stopped.
"What am I even doing?"
I laughed softly at myself.
"I should have stayed in bed."
Turning on my heel, I started back toward my room.
I didn't want Sebastian discovering I'd ignored the warning again.
Then...
A sound drifted through the silence.
It wasn't loud.
Just enough to make me stop.
Almost like...
A muffled groan.
I frowned.
The manor fell silent again.
I took another step toward my room.
The sound came again.
Curiosity won.
Against my better judgment, I turned and followed it.
The corridors grew narrower.
The polished halls I had come to know gave way to older passages lined with dark oak paneling, the wood worn smooth by generations of hands. I didn't recognize this part of the manor. The portraits had disappeared. Even the rugs beneath my feet were older, their faded patterns barely visible in the flickering candlelight.
The air felt different here.
Colder.
Still.
The strange sound drifted through the silence again.
Not a cry.
Breathing.
Labored.
Uneven.
As though every breath cost the person taking it.
My own heartbeat quickened.
I should have turned back.
Margaret's words continued to echo through my mind.
Do not leave your room after sunset.
If you happen to hear strange noises during the night... ignore them.
The sound grew louder with every cautious step.
A thin ribbon of warm light spilled beneath a heavy oak door at the end of the corridor.
Someone was inside.
I stopped several feet away, my fingers tightening around the brass candlestick until they ached.
Every instinct urged me to leave.
Instead, I stepped closer.
The door hadn't latched completely.
A narrow gap remained.
I knew I shouldn't look.
This wasn't my home.
These weren't my secrets.
Yet curiosity had always been one of my greatest flaws.
Holding my breath, I leaned just enough to peer through the opening.
At first, all I saw was the broad back of a man dressed entirely in black.
Sebastian.
His shoulders filled most of the doorway, blocking nearly everything beyond him. He was bent slightly forward, one gloved hand resting on the arm of a chair.
Someone else was in the room.
I couldn't make out their face.
Only the edge of a dark coat.
A pale hand hanging limply over the carved armrest.
Another strained breath.
A quiet groan.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Was the man injured?
Had there been an accident?
Sebastian shifted only slightly, and for the briefest instant I caught sight of something dark staining the white cloth draped across the stranger's chest.
My breath caught.
Then Sebastian became perfectly still.
Slowly, almost lazily, he lifted his head.
Not toward the man.
Toward the door.
Toward me.
Every muscle in my body locked.
The candle trembled in my grasp, threatening to slip from my fingers.
The silence stretched.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
I couldn't breathe.
Couldn't move.
Then, without raising his voice, Sebastian spoke.
"You should be resting."
The words were calm.
Measured.
Yet they carried through the corridor with terrifying certainty.
My pulse lurched.
He knew.
He had to know.
For one impossible moment, I was certain those dark eyes were fixed on the narrow gap in the door.
Fixed on me.
A weak voice finally answered from somewhere inside the room.
"Yes... my lord."
The sound shattered whatever spell had held me in place.
I turned and hurried back the way I had come, forcing each step to remain silent even as every instinct begged me to run.
The corridors seemed darker now.
Longer.
Every shadow watched.
Every creak of the old manor sounded like footsteps following behind me.
I refused to look back.
Only after slipping into my room and quietly closing the door did I dare breathe again.
I leaned against the wood, pressing a trembling hand to my racing heart.
What had I just witnessed?
Who was that man?
And why couldn't I shake the feeling that Sebastian had been speaking to me... not the person inside that room?
- Writer
