Everything was dark. Not the kind of dark that comes with closed eyes, but something deeper—velvety, endless. I blinked, or at least I thought I did, but the darkness clung to me, unchanging.
Then, a voice—sharp, desperate—cut through the void.
"Evie!!"
The sound jolted something inside me. I blinked again. This time, the world shifted.
Roses.
Bushes thick with them surrounded me, their petals like bruised silk in the light. I wanted to move, to speak, but I couldn't. My body remained still, weightless, like in a dream. A memory surfaced: foxgloves. Purple, delicate, swaying in a breeze I couldn't feel.
I tried again. This time, my limbs stirred, and I turned slowly toward the voice.
A red-haired boy stood there—or perhaps a man. I couldn't quite tell. His figure was distinct, but his eyes… they were blurred, like smudges on glass. And yet, something about him felt familiar.
"I've got you this," he said softly, extending a bouquet of roses.
I stared at the flowers, confusion and longing tangling in my chest. My hand—surprisingly mine—lifted to accept them. My lips parted, and words came, hesitant and strange.
"Thank you, ###…"
But his name never reached my ears. I knew I'd spoken it. I could feel it on my tongue. Yet the sound vanished, swallowed by the dream.
He smiled—a warm, crooked smile that sent heat rushing to my cheeks. I didn't know if it was truly me feeling it… or someone else entirely.
Then he stepped closer. I felt the warmth of him, a magnetic pull I didn't want to resist. His eyes remained blurred, but he closed them slowly, leaning in—as if toward something inevitable. His face neared mine, lips parting—
Closer.
Closer.
And then—
I woke up.
Gods, what a cruel way to wake.
I wanted to kiss him. Even now, my lips tingled from the phantom sensation. Frustration twisted in my chest. Why did it have to be a dream? Why couldn't he be real?
It couldn't have been the same man from the other dream—the one before. No… this one felt different. He had to be.
That thought haunted me. The man from the earlier dream had terrified me—his presence cold and heavy, like the quiet dread I used to feel around my father. That suffocating silence, where even breathing felt like rebellion.
But this one… this man was different. His smile had been kind, disarming. I couldn't look away. My heart leaned toward him, drawn like a flower to sunlight.
Still, I forced myself to focus.
The present mattered more than dreams, no matter how vivid—last night had been too close. I'd narrowly avoided disaster, and I still hadn't caught my breath.
Now, golden light filtered through the curtains, painting soft patterns on the floor and walls. Morning had arrived. And with it, the reminder: today, we were to visit the Kingdom of Elyndor.
The maids had already drawn a hot bath and were waiting for me to rise. Once I stirred, they moved quickly, guiding me into the water, bathing me with practiced grace, then dressing me in layers of silk and velvet. When they were finished, I asked them to leave. I returned to the bed and lay back down.
According to the original novel, Elyndor was renowned for its mages and mastery of ancient magic. It was the third most powerful kingdom on the continent, famed not only for its sorcery but also for its unrivaled archives and scholarly institutions. It was where Lily—Lily-the real Lily—had been sent to boarding school at the age of thirteen. A place of wonder, secrets, and more than a little danger.
I sank into the plush mattress, letting the weight of the day settle around me, until a knock sounded at the door.
"My lady, it's me," came Emily's familiar voice.
"Come in," I called, slipping from the bed and moving to the vanity.
Emily entered without hesitation, already moving with efficient purpose. She stepped behind me and began brushing my hair, her touch gentle and precise.
"What's the status, Emily?" I asked, watching her reflection in the mirror.
"After the Crown Prince escorted you to your room last night," she said quietly, "I returned to the drawing room to check if everything was in order. Duke Hartwell was there. He examined the piano to see what had gone wrong… but in the end, he couldn't find anything unusual."
A smile tugged at my lips. "You outdid yourself."
"Thank you, my lady," she murmured, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. "As you instructed, I hid the tuning tool in my pocket and swapped out your original sheet music. I took the one with lyrics and replaced it with the blank notes. That way, even if someone looked… it would seem incomplete. After that, the Queen seemed disappointed. She left earlier than expected- with her son."
I exhaled, the knot of tension in my chest easing just slightly.
So Queen Seraphina had taken the bait.
I could only hope the leche flan had softened her mood- that its delicate sweetness might have lingered, just enough to dull her disappointment. According to the novel, if Queen Seraphina disliked what she saw or heard, she never let it go unpunished. Her vengeance was subtle but ruthless, precise, and ruinous.
But things were different now. In the book, she didn't begin to change until she formally met Lily at eighteen, as her son's betrothed.
That moment had come too early.
"All done, my lady."
"Thank you, Emily," I said, rising from the chair.
"It's my pleasure."
I left the room soon after, leaving a small note on the vanity for Emily
The luggage had already been loaded onto the carriage. As I descended the long staircase, Julian stood waiting for me at the bottom, his posture calm, his gaze already finding mine. I smiled at him, unable to hide the flicker of excitement bubbling in my chest.
I had never traveled to another country before—my father had made sure of that. But now, I was finally going to see the Kingdom of Elyndor with my own eyes.
Julian stepped forward and extended his hand. His palm was warm, his fingers slightly larger than mine, stronger, but still gentle.
"Ready to go?" he asked, lacing our fingers together.
I nodded, and together we walked toward the carriage. As we settled inside, the wheels creaked into motion, and the gentle rocking began.
"It'll take five days to reach Elyndor," Julian said, gazing out the window at the slowly shifting scenery.
Five days.
Back in the modern world, I would've reached the other side of the continent in a few hours by plane. I almost laughed at the thought.
There was a teleportation gem, of course. A rare magical artifact said to transport its user instantly anywhere in the world. But according to the original novel, just one of those costs two hundred thousand gold coins. Not exactly something the average noble carried in their pocket.
I sighed, leaning back against the cushioned seat.
It was going to be a long journey.