A loud bang echoed through the mansion as fists slammed against the locked door.
"Let me out!" Sofia screamed, her voice cracking with frustration. From the dining room below, her cries could still be heard echoing faintly.
Downstairs, Duchess Alina placed her hand gently on her husband's arm. "Darling… she's still young. Perhaps that foolish maid manipulated her into running away."
Duke Leonzor grunted, his expression sour. "She is our daughter, and yet she shamed this house. She will remain locked in that room until she learns obedience. No more softness."
Hours passed, and soon the grand carriage was prepared at the entrance. Duke Leonzor and Duchess Alina departed the mansion to attend a royal banquet, summoned personally by the king. The mansion fell quiet—eerily so.
From her bedroom window, Sofia watched her parents leave. Her eyes narrowed with determination.
"As long as they're gone... maybe—just maybe—I can find a way out."
She rushed to the door and tried once more to twist the knob with all her strength. It wouldn't budge. She slammed her shoulder into it in desperation, again and again, but it was solid, reinforced, and utterly unforgiving.
Breathless, Sofia sank to the floor.
"I'm never getting out," she whispered. Her voice cracked with hopelessness.
The room around her was a mess—pillows thrown, sheets crumpled, books scattered. The heavy curtains blocked most of the sunlight, and only one candle flickered weakly on her desk.
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the room.
Sofia blinked. "What the…?"
Papers began to lift and fly, spinning around the room like leaves in a storm. Books fluttered open, their pages flipping wildly as if invisible hands were turning them.
The wind circled toward the far end of the room, where the tall, antique mirror stood. The silver frame of the glass glimmered, although no light touched it.
"What's happening?" Sofia whispered, slowly rising to her feet.
The pages flew faster, then all at once—they were pulled directly toward the mirror, sticking to it like magnets. The glass began to glow with a soft, blue hue. Then… it rippled.
Sofia backed away, unsure if she was dreaming or slipping into madness. She grabbed the candle and approached cautiously, the flame trembling in the draught.
As she drew closer, her breath caught in her throat.
A figure was standing within the mirror.
He wore a pure white mask that covered his entire face. His black coat flowed behind him like mist. The man was tall, unmoving, with only his voice breaking the silence.
"Good evening, Sofia Leonzor," he said, his tone deep and smooth, like velvet shadows.
Sofia's eyes widened. She rubbed her eyes furiously. "No. No, this isn't real. I must be hallucinating. I'm losing my mind."
The man chuckled lightly, tapping on the glass with a gloved finger. Tap. Tap.
"You're not mad. Nor are you dreaming."
Sofia stared. "Who… who are you?"
He tilted his head slightly. "A friend. Or perhaps... a reflection of your own desire."
"You're inside my mirror."
"Yes," he said calmly. "And I have been waiting. Eighteen long years."
She narrowed her eyes. "You knew I'd be here?"
"I knew someone would come. A soul like yours—restless, imprisoned, yearning for freedom."
Sofia swallowed hard, still trying to understand. "What do you want from me?"
The man stepped closer to the glass. "I believe we can help each other."
"How?" she asked cautiously.
He held up a silver chain. It shimmered with an eerie glow, one that seemed to pulse with quiet power.
"If you wear this chain," he explained, "you will break the seal that holds me trapped. And in return… I will help you escape this place. I will take you far from this mansion. Far from your father. Far from everything."
Sofia hesitated, heart pounding. "Escape…"
"Yes," he nodded. "True freedom. A world without locked doors or forced marriages. A place where you can choose your path."
Her hands trembled slightly. "But… why me? Why should I trust you?"
The masked man placed a hand against the glass, his voice softening. "Because I am the only one who truly sees you. Not as a duke's daughter. Not as a bride-to-be. But as you are. Caged. Alone. Desperate to breathe."
His words sliced through her, deep and sharp. He was right. For the first time, someone had seen her—not as a symbol, but as a person.
Sofia stepped closer.
"What will happen if I wear the chain?"
"You'll unlock the link between our worlds. Just enough for me to step through… and for you to step out."
"And once we're both free?" she asked.
His voice was barely a whisper. "Then we run."
-----
But why did Mateo ask Sofia to wear the chain?
The truth was not so simple. Mateo was not a man—he was a demon, ancient and bound by a curse that stretched back thousands of years. He had spent centuries trapped between realms, imprisoned within the mirror by powers no longer spoken of. What he truly sought was not just freedom... but something lost. Something only he could recognize when he saw it.
And fate—unforgiving and deliberate—had tied that freedom to one soul alone.
Sofia.
She was not just any girl. Unbeknownst to herself, she was the master of Mateo, born from a bloodline hidden in time, veiled in silence, and lost in royal histories that were never meant to be uncovered. Her existence had been foretold in whispers, in shadows, in forgotten prophecies. Her very presence was the key.
Sofia had accepted the chain willingly—not because she was foolish or naive, but because the two had already spoken deeply. There was trust between them, fragile yet undeniable. And most of all, she longed for escape. Not only from the prison of her bedroom, but from the invisible cage her parents had built around her entire life.
"I want the chain," Sofia said firmly, her hand outstretched.
Mateo's expression darkened, yet there was something soft in his voice as he began to chant—low and steady, in a language long dead. As his voice grew stronger, the room around Sofia began to shake. The air shifted.
Wind howled out of nowhere, rushing through the sealed chamber. Books flew from shelves, candles flickered wildly, and golden lights danced from corner to corner. Then, a soft yet powerful crack—a sound like thunder muffled behind silk.
Tiny bolts of golden lightning sparked in the air, falling gently like raindrops made of magic.
And just like that, the chain appeared in Sofia's hands.
Warm. Glowing. Real.
She stared at it for only a moment before slipping it around her neck. The moment the clasp clicked shut, the mirror began to change.
Smoke filled the glass from within, thick and silver, coiling like mist under moonlight. Mateo's image blurred, his form melting into the haze.
Then—silence.
The mirror cleared.
And Sofia gasped.
Mateo was standing beside her. No longer behind the glass.
Real.
Here.
With her.