Ophelia returned to her wing in silence, slipping through the dim corridors like a shadow. As always, she assumed everyone was asleep—but as she slowly opened the door to her room, she was met with the flicker of candlelight… and a familiar face sitting quietly at the edge of her bed.
"You're late tonight," said Adelia, her voice warm—yet laced with quiet warning.
Ophelia paused at the threshold. No surprise in her expression, only a brief, direct glance toward her sister.
"I needed some air."
Adelia placed the candle down on the bedside table, folding her arms across her chest. Her white nightgown gave her an almost angelic presence.
"Or some training... like you've been doing for weeks now."
"And you," Ophelia replied coolly, walking toward her wardrobe, "have been watching me for weeks?"
"I know you, Ophelia. You're my sister. I can't ignore the nights you sneak out in silence and return looking more exhausted… and more alone," Adelia said, her voice now laced with genuine concern.
Ophelia remained silent, her hand resting on the wardrobe handle, unmoving. Then, in a whisper that barely reached the air, she said,
"I need this. I need to be something… other than just your shadow."
Adelia rose quietly and stepped closer, stopping behind her.
"You're not my shadow, Ophelia. Don't let people who don't know you define who you are."
Slowly, Ophelia turned around, that familiar glint in her eyes—the one she wore whenever she was hiding something.
"I know what I'm doing, Adelia."
Adelia nodded, though her eyes betrayed lingering doubt.
"Just… don't trust everyone who offers you power. Sometimes, what looks like salvation might be the curse itself."
Ophelia didn't reply.
But in her mind, Kael's image flickered.
And for the first time…
she wasn't sure if Adelia was overreacting—
or simply seeing something Ophelia hadn't yet.
After Adelia left the room, Ophelia sat quietly on the floor near the open window, the cold night air playing with her hair. The sky was overcast, the moon barely visible behind a thick veil of fog. Her eyes stared into the darkness beyond the estate walls, but her mind was elsewhere... tangled in the mystery that was Kael.
"Who the hell are you?" she muttered under her breath, eyes still fixed on the distant gloom.
He unsettled her—not just with his strength, or that constant teasing smirk that got under her skin—but with something far deeper. Something she couldn't name. Was he dangerous? A savior? Why did he seem to know her better than she knew herself? And why, despite everything, didn't he scare her?
Suddenly, she stood and made her way to the door. Her steps were swift, purposeful. She wasn't even sure what she was searching for—only that she needed answers. Anything that could explain Kael's presence, or the strange gravity that pulled him into her world.
The library was empty, cloaked in silence and shadows, save for a faint amber glow from the stone lamp near the entrance. Her fingers trailed along the shelves, brushing over spines marked 'Old Kingdoms', 'Theories on Magic and Mana', 'Secrets of the Nobility'... until her hand paused on a worn leather-bound book, its title nearly erased by time:
"Spirits and the Seven Essences."
Carefully, she pulled it free, sat down cross-legged beneath the light, and opened it. Page after page whispered of ancient truths—until she stopped at a chapter titled:
"Spirits of Light."
"Their hair is pure white, eyes golden. They do not eat, do not sleep. Said to be the closest to the divine—creatures born of radiant energy, often seen as emblems of purity and justice…"
"That's definitely not him," Ophelia murmured, flipping the page with mild irritation.
'Spirits of Water'…
"Cold-skinned, hair the color of the sea, eyes that hold the depth of oceans. Known for their mystery and emotional influence. They often dwell in isolation—deep within the earth or beneath the waters."
She froze.
"His eyes… like the sea," she thought, her fingers lingering on the page.
But his hair wasn't blue. And nothing about him felt serene, not in the way the text described. There was something far more volatile beneath his calm smirk.
She kept reading until her gaze fell on a faded note scribbled at the bottom margin:
"In rare cases, a being is born from two opposing spirits—known as a hybrid. Rejected by both lineages, their power is unbalanced, their behavior unpredictable. They are the nameless threat."
Ophelia's breath caught in her throat.
"Unpredictable... unbalanced… a threat without a name."
Her breath caught.
"A hybrid? Could Kael really be one of them?"
But how? Could spirits even reproduce? And if what she'd read was true, why did he appear so human… and why was he helping her?
A strange shiver ran down her spine. She closed the book gently, eyes lost in the dim air around her. Slowly, she stood, pressing a hand against her chest—her heart racing faster than usual.
"What are you, Kael…?" she whispered, voice barely audible.
"And why does it feel like knowing you… will come at a cost I can't afford?"
Morning dawned on Carter Manor, sunlight shyly slipping through heavy curtains, casting faint lines across the stone floor. Ophelia still sat on the edge of her bed, eyes lost in the memories of the previous night, when the steady knock at the door broke her train of thought.
"Miss Ophelia?" Madeleine, the head maid, entered with a calm, motherly expression. "The Marquis requests your presence for breakfast."
Ophelia nodded silently, rose, donned a simple dress, brushed her long hair without fuss, and left the room.
In the grand dining hall, Marquis Oscar Carter sat at the head of the table, with his wife, Lady Caroline, by his side. To the left, Adelia's chair remained empty. Ophelia entered with heavy but confident steps and sat down silently.
The conversation began sharply.
"What you did at the coming-of-age celebration...was unacceptable." her father said sternly as he sliced a piece of meat. "You have brought shame upon the family name in front of Duke Lincoln, one of our most important political allies."
She replied coldly, "He deserved more than that, and I don't regret it."
"I regret it for you," Lady Caroline interrupted, cutting off her husband with a tone as cold as ice. "If Adelia were in your place, nothing like this would have happened. Adelia knows how to behave. Adelia is beautiful, polite, intelligent… she never brings us shame."
Ophelia looked up at her mother, her eyes mixing bitterness and exhaustion, but said nothing.
Lady Caroline continued mercilessly, "You are nothing like her. From the moment you were born, the difference was clear. Adelia was a rose, and you… a thorn. I don't know what I did in my life to be cursed with a daughter like you."