IT WAS STRANGE HOW A SINGLE RUMOR COULD BRING AN ENTIRE WORLD CRASHING DOWN. The corridors of the mansion buzzed with life as they always did. Servants hurried from one task to another, their footsteps echoing against polished marble floors while hushed conversations drifted through half-open doors.

Normally, I paid them no mind.

Today, however, I wished I never had.

The gossip spread quickly, passed from servant to servant like wildfire through dry grass, until eventually it reached my ears.

And the moment it did, I felt sick.

My stomach twisted painfully.

I tightened my grip around the book I had been carrying, my knuckles turning white beneath the pressure. My jaw clenched so hard it ached.

Still, I remained silent.

Still, I listened.

"I heard the Master visited his sister's domain early this morning."

The voice belonged to Rosebud, one of the senior attendants.

"He hasn't returned since."

The words struck harder than any blade ever could.

For a moment, everything around me seemed to fade.

The laughter.

The chatter.

The distant clinking of silver trays.

Gone.

All I could hear was the frantic pounding of my own heart.

No.

No, no, no.

My vision blurred almost instantly as tears gathered in my eyes.

Before anyone could notice me standing outside the servants' quarters, I turned and ran.

I ran through familiar hallways, past portraits and towering windows, past servants who called my name in confusion.

I didn't stop.

I couldn't.

By the time I reached my room, my lungs burned and my vision was swimming.

The door slammed shut behind me with a loud bang.

My legs finally gave out.

I slid helplessly to the floor, my back pressed against the door as though I could somehow keep reality from following me inside.

A broken sob escaped my lips.

My chest hurts.

Everything hurt.

What if something had happened to him?

What if she had done something to him?

What if—

I buried my face in my hands, but the thoughts refused to stop.

My aunt.

My father's sister.

The woman I feared more than anyone else in this world.

A fresh wave of panic crashed over me.

I shot to my feet so quickly I nearly stumbled.

There was something I needed to see.

Something I needed to know.

Ignoring the tears streaming down my face, I began searching frantically through my room. Drawers were pulled open. Books were shoved aside. Trinkets clattered onto the floor.

"Where is it?" I muttered desperately.

My breathing grew unevenly.

My hands shook.

Then—

There.

Relief flooded through me.

Resting atop a small table near the window was the object I had been searching for.

The looking glass.

I snatched it up immediately.

The silver frame felt cold against my trembling fingers.

Taking a shaky breath, I turned the mirror toward myself.

My reflection started back.

Red, swollen eyes.

Tear-stained cheeks.

A runny nose.

An absolute disaster.

I couldn't have cared less.

My appearance was the furthest thing from my mind.

There was only one thing that mattered.

My father.

Please.

Please be alright.

I tightened my grip on the mirror.

"Show me my father."

The words barely escaped above a whisper.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the surface of the looking glass began to fog.

Silver mist swirled across the glass like storm clouds gathering in the sky.

I held my breath.

Slowly, the fog cleared.

My reflection vanished.

In its place appeared another scene entirely.

A room I did not recognize.

A table.

Two figures seated across from one another.

My father was one of them.

Relief surged through me so suddenly that I nearly collapsed.

He's alive.

The thought had barely formed when I noticed something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I leaned closer.

My brows furrowed.

Who was sitting opposite him?

The figure remained partially hidden beneath shadows, making it difficult to see their face.

I squinted.

And then I recognized her.

The blood drained from my face.

No.

No, no, no—

I was too late.

My father's wrists were bound.

Chains wrapped around him like iron serpents, locking him firmly in place.

And standing before him was the one person I had hoped never to see.

His sister.

My aunt.

Seraphina.

The Damned Witch of Gaunt.