PRISON OF SILK AND GOLD

Episode 6 -House Rules

Amelia’s POV

Morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, but the house felt different. It wasn't just quiet anymore. It was watching.

Marcus was at my door before I stirred. He didn't knock. He just stood there, hands hidden, face a mask.

"Up," he said. "Mr. Blackwood expects you in the dining room."

I blinked, confused. "Why?"

"Because he said so," Marcus replied, stepping back.

I didn't argue. I dressed quickly, pulling on something simple. The silk of my wedding dress hung in the closet, a reminder of the day I'd traded my life for my mother's. I didn't want to look like a prisoner, but I didn't want to look like I owned the place, either.

In the dining room, Adrian sat at the far end, coffee untouched. Victor was beside him, eyes sharp and calculating. Isabella occupied the opposite chair, her smile thin and brittle.

"Sit," Adrian said.

I sat.

"From now on," Victor began, his voice cold, "you will follow the house rules."

I nodded slowly. "What are they?"

Marcus stepped forward, holding a folder. He opened it, and the rules were printed in neat black text.

Do not enter the west wing.

Do not speak to staff about family matters.

Do not leave the estate without permission.

Do not take photographs of the house or its contents.

Do not ask about the locked doors.

Do not trust the portraits.

I read the last one twice. "Do not trust the portraits?"

"Yes," Adrian said, his voice low. "They watch."

I looked around. The portraits on the wall seemed to stare at me, their painted eyes unblinking. One, a woman in a dark dress, looked almost like me. I felt a chill crawl down my spine.

"That's not a rule," I said. "That's a warning."

"It's both," Victor said. "And you will follow it."

I didn't argue. I just nodded. "Okay."

"Good," Adrian said. "Then you'll know what to do."

After breakfast, I wandered the house, trying to find something that felt normal. The library was quiet, the books dusty. I touched one, then remembered the rule. Something on the top shelf caught my eye—old, leather-bound, forbidden. I stopped myself. Adrian's voice echoed in my mind: Don't touch the books on the top shelf. I stepped back, suddenly aware of how easily I could break the rules without even knowing.

In the solarium, the flowers were perfect, the light warm. I sat on a chair, trying to breathe. The air smelled of jasmine, but underneath it, something darker. I looked at the windows. The garden stretched out, but the gates were still locked. I couldn't leave. I was trapped.

I found a note on the table. It was the same one from before, but this time, it had more words.

You think you're safe. You think you're protected. But you're not. The house knows what you did. And it won't let you forget.

I read it three times, then tucked it into my pocket. The house was talking, and I was learning to listen. What had I done? I had signed a contract. I had saved my mother. What else was there?

Later, Adrian came to find me. He didn't say anything. He just stood there, his gray eyes searching.

"Did you get the note?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

He stepped closer. "You need to be careful. The house has secrets. Some of them are dangerous."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because I'm trying to keep you safe," he said. "But you have to trust me."

I wasn't sure I could do it, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

That night, I lay awake in bed, the note clutched tightly in my hand. The mansion was silent, yet the stillness felt oppressive, as though it concealed something waiting to emerge. I could sense that something was approaching, though I had no idea what form it would take.

One thing, however, had become clear: the rules weren't meant for me alone. They bound everyone in the house, and breaking the bonds came with consequences.

This place thrived on its rules, and little by little, I was learning to obey them.

Yet the mysteries remained unsolved, and the portraits continued their silent vigil from the walls.

I shut my eyes, yet sleep never came. Instead, I lay awake, anticipating the next move, the next warning, and the next hidden truth.

The house seemed alive, constantly observing. Slowly, I was beginning to observe it in return.

But the key remained in Adrian’s possession, and I had no idea whether it would ever find its way to me.

The prison doors were still sealed shut, and I remained trapped within them.

But the rules were clear. And I would follow them.

Because I had to.

Because my mother was still alive.

Because I had made a bargain.

And the bargain was not done.