Aurora Earhart
– Is that… our brother? – Alisa whispered, uncertain, eyes fixed on the open doorway.
– …
I heard her voice, but couldn't respond. Outwardly, it was Raphael—our brother, the boy we'd grown up with since childhood. But the person standing in the threshold now felt… different. Something in his gaze, his posture, even the way he held his blade—it was all unfamiliar. My thoughts raced, but I was too afraid to ask a single question. The only thing I was sure of was this: he had walked through hell… and it showed.
Raphael stepped forward.
Just moments earlier, the ballroom had been alive with music, laughter, and the idle chatter of nobility. Now, silence reigned. The sound of his footsteps—dull, steady, like the ticking of some ancient clock—echoed through the chamber, vibrating in my chest. It felt like even the walls were listening. No one dared interrupt. No one even breathed.
