Chapter5
1401 Words
The morning didn’t wake me.
My thoughts did.
I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, watching faint shadows move across the white surface as the curtains swayed gently in the breeze. Somewhere in the mansion, doors opened and closed softly. Footsteps echoed in distant corridors. The world outside my room was already alive.
But my mind was somewhere else.
In the garden.
With him.
I pressed my palm against my chest, feeling my heartbeat—slow, steady, yet strangely restless. It had been like this for weeks now. Every time I thought of Adrian, something inside me shifted, like the ground beneath my feet was no longer solid.
I pushed myself up and walked toward the mirror.
The girl staring back at me looked familiar, yet different. My hair fell loosely around my shoulders, my eyes darker than usual, my lips pressed together as if holding back words I didn’t know how to say.
Eighteen.
I had turned eighteen a month ago.
And somehow, everything felt heavier since then.
The garden greeted me with silence.
Not the empty kind.
The kind that listened.
Sunlight filtered through the tall trees, scattering gold across the grass. Dew clung to the roses, trembling as the wind brushed past them. The fountain at the far end whispered softly, its water rippling in slow circles.
Then I heard laughter.
Clear. Male. Familiar.
I stopped.
Adrian stood beneath the old oak tree, his back partially turned toward me. He wasn’t alone.
A boy stood beside him—taller than me, younger than Adrian, with softer features and eyes that seemed too warm for someone raised in the servants’ quarters.
He was laughing at something Adrian had said.
I had never seen Adrian talk like that before.
Something inside me tightened.
Adrian turned his head slightly.
Our eyes met.
For a moment, the world narrowed.
“Seraphina.”
My name sounded different when he said it.
I walked closer, my steps slow, cautious, as if I was afraid of breaking something invisible between us.
“Good morning,” I said.
His gaze lingered on my face for a second longer than necessary.
“Morning,” he replied.
The boy beside him studied me openly, his curiosity unhidden.
“This is Noah,” Adrian said. “My brother.”
Brother.
The word felt strange.
I tilted my head slightly. “You never told me you had a brother.”
Adrian’s shoulders lifted slightly. “You never asked.”
Before I could respond, Noah stepped forward with an easy grin.
“So you’re Seraphina Kingsley,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow. “And you’re Noah Vale, apparently.”
He laughed. “You sound disappointed.”
“Maybe I am.”
Adrian exhaled slowly, like he was tired of both of us already.
“Don’t mind him,” he said.
But Noah only smiled wider.
“He talks about you a lot,” he added casually.
My breath hitched.
Adrian’s head snapped toward him.
“Noah.”
“I’m just saying,” Noah shrugged.
I felt heat creep into my cheeks.
Adrian didn’t look at me again.
We walked deeper into the garden.
No one said we should.
We just did.
Noah kicked small stones along the path ahead of us, humming under his breath. Adrian walked beside me, close enough that our arms almost brushed, yet not touching.
The silence between us felt alive.
“So,” I said quietly, “why are you here?”
Noah answered from ahead. “Because I got tired of staying in that boring town.”
Adrian didn’t correct him.
“You’ll regret it,” Adrian said instead.
Noah chuckled. “You always say that.”
I glanced at Adrian.
His face was calm, but his eyes were distant.
“Does he always talk like this?” I asked.
Adrian looked at me briefly. “Too much.”
I smiled slightly.
For a moment, Adrian’s gaze softened.
Then it hardened again.
The old fountain waited for us like a forgotten memory.
Adrian sat on the stone edge, his hands resting on his knees. Noah dropped onto the grass dramatically, stretching like he had no worries in the world.
I stood between them, unsure where to place myself.
Noah’s eyes flicked between us.
Then he smiled.
“Why do you look at her like that?” he asked suddenly.
The air froze.
I felt my pulse spike.
“Look at who?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Noah pointed at me lazily.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“You should learn when to shut up,” he said quietly.
Noah laughed. “And you should learn when to admit things.”
I stared at Adrian.
He didn’t look at me.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
I felt something in my chest tremble.
“Seraphina.”
Rowan’s voice cut through the moment like a blade.
I turned.
He stood a few steps away, dressed neatly as always, posture straight, expression polite.
But his eyes were sharp.
Watching.
Measuring.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” I replied.
His gaze moved slowly from my face to Adrian.
Then to Noah.
Then back to me.
Something unreadable flickered across his eyes.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time here lately,” Rowan said lightly.
I shrugged. “I like the garden.”
He smiled faintly.
But the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“I see.”
That evening, my mother called me to her room.
Her room was always quiet.
Too quiet.
The curtains were half-drawn, sunlight spilling across the marble floor. My mother sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair slowly, her reflection watching me through the mirror.
“Sit,” she said.
I obeyed.
The brush moved again.
“Rowan visited today,” she said softly.
My fingers curled slightly.
“Yes,” I said.
She turned her head slightly, studying my reflection.
“He said something interesting.”
I waited.
She placed the brush down carefully.
“Seraphina,” she said, “you’re not a child anymore.”
Her words settled slowly.
“You should understand that not every friendship is harmless.”
I swallowed.
“I don’t understand.”
She stood and walked toward me, placing her hand on my shoulder.
Her touch was gentle.
But it felt heavy.
“Be careful,” she whispered. “Some doors, once opened, can’t be closed again.”
Her eyes locked onto mine.
I felt small.
Watched.
Trapped.
That night, sleep refused to come.
I stared at the ceiling again, replaying everything.
Noah’s laughter.
Rowan’s eyes.
My mother’s warning.
Adrian’s voice.
The way he looked at me.
I turned to my side, clutching the pillow.
Why did everything feel like it was about to change?
The next afternoon, the garden called me again.
Adrian was already there.
Alone.
He leaned against the oak tree, arms crossed, eyes closed.
For a moment, I just watched him.
He looked older than he should.
Tired.
Like he carried things he never talked about.
I stepped closer.
He opened his eyes instantly.
“You’re late,” he said.
“For what?” I asked.
“For nothing.”
I stopped in front of him.
The wind brushed past us.
Our eyes met.
Neither of us moved.
“Adrian,” I whispered.
He looked at me.
Really looked at me.
His gaze lingered on me.
Then back to my eyes.
My breath caught.
“You shouldn’t come here so often,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
His jaw tightened.
“No reason.”
I took a step closer.
He didn’t move back.
We stood close. Neither of us moving.
I could feel his warmth now.
His breath.
His presence.
“Do you ever feel like…” I started, then stopped.
He waited.
“…like something is wrong, even when nothing is happening?”
His eyes darkened slightly.
“Yes.”
The word fell softly between us.
For a moment, it felt like the world had disappeared.
Footsteps crunched behind us.
We turned at the same time.
Rowan stood at the edge of the path.
Watching.
Smiling faintly.
And beyond him, on the balcony of the mansion, my father stood still.
Looking down.
Watching us.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Adrian’s body stiffened slightly beside me.
The wind stopped.
The garden held its breath.
And I knew—
Something terrible was coming.
- Writer
