Chapter 4 - A younger sister
I woke to the soft rustle of fabric and the scent of lavender in the air. My limbs felt heavy, my throat dry, and every breath ached as if I'd been underwater too long. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar—painted with stars and gilded patterns I didn't remember. Slowly, I turned my head, and there she was.
Lumina.
She was curled up on a chair beside the bed, her cheek resting on the edge of the mattress, one small hand clutching mine. Her eyes were closed, dark lashes fluttering as if she were dreaming. For a moment, I simply stared, unsure if I was still dreaming too.
Then she stirred, her eyes opening slowly—and when they met mine, they filled with tears almost instantly. "You're awake," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I thought you were going to die…"
Then she stirred, her eyes opening slowly—and when they met mine, they filled with tears almost instantly. "You're awake," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I thought you were going to die…"
I tried to speak, but my voice came out cracked and dry. She quickly reached for a glass of water and held it to my lips, helping me take a few sips before setting it aside. Her hand never left mine.
"You're… different," she said softly, almost like she was speaking to herself. "You didn't scream at the maids. You didn't pull my hair or throw things. And when you looked at me in the garden… it was like you didn't hate me anymore."
I blinked at her, unsure what to say.
She gave me a small, hesitant smile. "I don't know what happened, but… I like the new you." Then she added, with the quiet hope only a little sister could carry, "Can we start over, Estella?"
Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them. I quickly looked away, but Lumina didn't let go of my hand.
No one had ever looked at me like that before. Not with kindness. Not with hope.
In my past life, I never had a family—not really. The only person who ever claimed me was the mage who adopted me when I was five… not out of love, but for his experiments. For fourteen years, I was nothing more than a subject in his cold, silent tower. He fed me, clothed me, taught me spells—but every kindness was a calculation, every comfort a trade for another test. When I turned nineteen, the final experiment was deemed a success. The mana coursing through my body became something extraordinary… and with it, I claimed my freedom.
A century ago, I rose to become the ruler of the Wizard Tower, feared and respected across the kingdoms. But even then, I was alone.
And now, here was this little girl—this child who still believed I was her sister—reaching for me like I mattered.
"Yeah…" I whispered, my voice shaking. "Let's start over."
Lumina smiled and squeezed my hand, and for the first time in what felt like lifetimes… I squeezed back. A strange warmth bloomed in my chest—fragile, unfamiliar, but real.
In that quiet room, with only her beside me, I felt something I never had before: belonging.
Maybe I couldn't undo the past, but I could choose what came next.
And for her sake—for mine—I would become someone worth believing in.
I hugged her tightly, my arms trembling as I whispered, "I'm so sorry… for being mean to you all this time."
She didn't say anything right away, just leaned into me, her small frame warm against mine.
It was a fragile moment—one that felt like the beginning of something new.
But then I looked up… and froze.
In the far corner of the room, half-shrouded in shadow, stood Alaric—my eldest brother—watching us in silence, unreadable eyes locked on mine. My breath caught in my throat as our eyes met.
I didn't know how long he had been there, or how much he had heard.
Was he angry? Suspicious? Or… was that surprise in his expression?
For a long moment, he said nothing, his posture rigid, arms crossed over his chest.
Then slowly, he stepped out of the shadows, his gaze flicking from me to Lumina.
"I see," he said quietly, voice low but clear. "So even you can change, Estella."
His words weren't warm, but they weren't cruel either—and somehow, that made my heart ache even more.
He stepped out of the room just as a pair of maids entered, carrying fresh linens and a tray of tea.
They paused at the sight of him, bowing quickly, but he didn't spare them a glance.
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving behind a strange silence.
Lumina didn't seem to notice the tension—she was still watching me with wide, hopeful eyes.
One of the maids began quietly changing the sheets at the foot of the bed, while the other placed the tea tray on the nearby table.
I sat up a little straighter, brushing the tears from my cheeks as I tried to compose myself.
Maybe things wouldn't be easy… but in that small moment, with Lumina by my side, it felt like a fresh start.