Chapter 3: Beneath the Mask
947 Words
The promise Elena made lasted exactly three days.
Not because she intended to break it, but because curiosity had become impossible to ignore.
Ashford Manor was full of unanswered questions.
Every hallway seemed to hide a story. Every portrait carried the weight of forgotten generations. Even the servants' quarters, though abandoned for years, looked as though someone had walked through them only yesterday.
And then there was Lucien.
He appeared only when necessary, disappearing before dawn and returning long after sunset. Sometimes his coat was soaked by the rain. Other times, dark stains marked the cuffs of his sleeves.
Blood.
Elena wanted to believe there was another explanation.
But every answer led to another mystery.
---
On the fourth morning, she found Lucien in the greenhouse behind the manor.
She hadn't noticed it before, hidden beneath climbing ivy and ancient oak trees.
The glass roof was cracked in several places, allowing shafts of sunlight to spill inside. Wild roses climbed the rusted iron arches, their crimson blossoms filling the air with a sweet fragrance.
Lucien knelt in the soil, carefully trimming the dead branches from a white rosebush.
He looked... peaceful.
Different.
For the first time, he wasn't wearing black. Instead, he wore a charcoal-gray shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, his hands stained with dirt rather than blood.
"You have a garden," Elena said, stepping inside.
Without looking up, he replied, "Had."
"It can be beautiful again."
"It used to be."
She walked beside him, admiring the flowers that had somehow survived years of neglect.
"You take care of these."
"Only these."
He gently brushed a fingertip across one white blossom.
"My mother planted them."
His voice softened.
"She said white roses bloom even after the harshest winters."
Elena crouched beside him.
"My mother used to say something similar."
Lucien looked at her.
"What did she say?"
"'Flowers don't bloom because life is easy. They bloom because they choose to.'"
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The wind rustled through the broken glass overhead.
"I think our mothers would have liked each other," Elena said with a small smile.
To her surprise...
Lucien smiled back.
It was faint.
Barely noticeable.
But it transformed him completely.
The cold man everyone feared disappeared, replaced by someone heartbreakingly human.
---
That afternoon, dark clouds gathered once again.
Rain began falling before sunset.
Elena was organizing books in the library when thunder shook the manor.
A loud crash echoed from somewhere upstairs.
She hurried into the hallway.
"Lucien?"
No answer.
Another crash.
She followed the sound to the western wing.
The door to Lucien's bedroom stood open.
She hesitated.
Then stepped inside.
The room was immaculate.
A fireplace.
A large bookshelf.
A writing desk covered with neatly stacked letters.
One photograph rested beside the window.
A young Lucien stood beside a beautiful woman with silver-gray eyes.
His mother.
They were laughing.
It was the first time Elena had seen him genuinely happy.
A sudden voice broke the silence.
"You shouldn't be in here."
She turned quickly.
Lucien stood in the doorway.
Rain dripped from his black coat.
His expression was unreadable.
"I'm sorry," Elena said. "I heard something fall."
His gaze shifted toward the floor.
A wooden picture frame had shattered near the fireplace.
Without a word, he knelt to gather the broken glass.
Elena joined him.
"You don't have to—"
Before he finished speaking, a sharp piece of glass sliced across her finger.
She gasped.
A thin line of blood appeared.
Lucien froze.
His eyes locked onto the crimson drop.
His breathing changed.
Faster.
Sharper.
For one terrifying second...
Something dark flashed across his face.
He grabbed her wrist.
His grip wasn't painful.
But it was firm.
"Lucien..."
He stared at the blood as though fighting an invisible battle inside himself.
Then, just as suddenly, he released her.
"I'm sorry."
His voice shook.
"You need to leave."
"I'm fine."
"Now."
The desperation in his tone frightened her more than his anger ever could.
She backed toward the door.
Before leaving, she glanced over her shoulder.
Lucien remained kneeling on the floor, his hands trembling as he buried his face in them.
---
That night, Elena couldn't sleep.
The image of Lucien's frightened expression replayed over and over in her mind.
He hadn't looked dangerous.
He had looked terrified...
...of himself.
Just after midnight, she heard the manor's front door open.
She quietly slipped from her room and peered through the upstairs railing.
Lucien walked into the storm, pulling his coat tightly around him.
He carried no lantern.
No horse.
No weapon.
Only a small leather satchel.
Where was he going?
Without allowing herself time to reconsider, Elena grabbed her cloak and followed him into the rain.
She kept her distance as he disappeared into the dark forest beyond Black Hill.
The deeper they walked, the quieter the world became.
Until, through the trees, she saw a faint glow.
Lucien stepped into a small clearing where several worn gravestones stood beneath a massive willow tree.
It was a cemetery.
He knelt before one grave, placing fresh white roses at its base.
The rain soaked his hair as he bowed his head.
"I kept my promise," he whispered, unaware that Elena stood hidden among the trees.
"I'm still protecting them."
His voice cracked.
"But I'm so tired, Mother."
Elena pressed a hand over her mouth.
The man the village called a monster was kneeling alone in the rain, mourning the only person who had ever truly loved him.
And for the first time...
She realized the greatest prison in Ashford Manor wasn't behind the locked door.
It was the guilt Lucien carried inside his own heart.
- Writer
