At Night
Ashley's room was quiet and cold.
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a pale glow across the floor.
Tiny specks of dust floated in the light, drifting like snow in slow motion.
Everything felt still. Frozen.
Then—
An aggressive knock shattered the silence.
It jolted her awake at 3 a.m.
But this time, it was different. The voice wasn't pleading—it was screaming.
"Ashley! Open the door!" A male voice echoed, firm and unrelenting.
The voice was so familiar. It was Sebastian's voice.
It kept repeating, insistent and desperate.
"Open the door, Ashley."
His tone almost seemed to beg her.
"Open the door, Ashley!"
Ashley just stood by her bed, staring at the door.
"If that's Sebastian… I don't want to open it."
Unlike Emily, she wasn't afraid of the unknown.
Yet, she was terrified—of her own love for Sebastian.
The sound of the knocking and Sebastian's voice calling out to her grew louder and louder,
until Clara's voice broke through.
"Ashley!"
Clara's voice was sharp, more commanding than usual.
Ashley snapped out of it, confusion clouding her eyes.
She looked at Clara, whose face was pale with worry.
"Ash, are you alright?" Clara asked.
Ashley frowned, her voice shaky.
"Can you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Clara's eyes softened.
"The door…"
Clara gently eased Ashley back into bed, her voice soothing.
"You were having a nightmare."
The Next Morning
Despite what had happened the night before, not a single word was spoken about it.
Ashley stepped out of her room.
Clara and Sebastian were already waiting at the table for breakfast.
Clara offered a soft, "Good morning."
Yet, out of the corner of her eye, Ashley noticed her desk.
Emily's diary lay open, turned to the same page she had left off the other day.
Untouched by either Sebastian or Clara.
All the words were blurred, yet… a line stood out:
The knocking never stopped. It got louder.
And another…
The necklace—it almost looked alive.
As if the gems had their own heartbeat.
Everything she was experiencing…
It was exactly what Emily had gone through.
Ashley looked at Clara, her eyes dark and determined.
"I need some answers," she muttered.
Yet she didn't dare to look at Sebastian.
She grabbed the diary and the necklace, storming out without hesitation.
Clara tried to stop her, but Sebastian held her back, his grip firm.
"Let her go," he whispered.
Clara looked at him, concern flickering in her eyes.
This was not his normal behavior.
Her hand instinctively reached for his forehead, just to check—
To see if he too had a fever.
Meanwhile
Ashley walked outside and paused.
A girl—familiar, yet unrecognizable—was carrying a white rose mixed with lavender.
The scent trailed behind her, drawing Ashley in.
She followed her, through a maze of tall walls and narrowing houses.
The path twisted ahead,
her mind whispering, I know that flower from somewhere…
When the girl turned through an alley, Ashley lost sight of her.
Then, a tall man suddenly grabbed her hand from the side.
It was Elbert.
"Forgive me, my lady. I must have mistaken you for someone else," he said politely, his tone smooth and mannered.
Ashley hesitated, confused, but her instincts prickled.
She asked cautiously, "Who are you?"
"Not an important man, my lady," he replied with a smile.
He released her hand slowly, offering a slight bow before leaving.
What was that about?
Ashley found it almost amusing—unnecessarily formal, as if scripted.
But the unease lingered.
She tried to brush it off and continued walking.
Then she realized—where did that girl go?
She slowly walked through and found herself at a tavern.
It was a bit of a descent for a town this small,
owned by a family named Maroon Tales Tavern.
Inside, not too crowded, not empty either.
Some were locals, others from far-off cities—traders, travelers, and gossipers alike.
Ashley walked in, feeling eyes prickling against her.
Then, whispers followed.
"Who's that?"
"An outsider?"
Some voices were curious, others cautious—and a few, welcoming.
She moved to the bar counter and sat.
Then a girl appeared—brown hair tied in a ponytail, soft features,
a white top with a brown skirt and an apron.
She smiled. "My name is Jane. How may I help you today?"
Ashley looked at her, then ordered a drink,
yet she paid with extra coin.
For a town as small as this,
the amount Ashley gave was worth a lot.
Jane hesitated to take it. But Ashley insisted.
In return—she wanted information.
After she made her a drink, they had a conversation.
"Tell me about Emily," Ashley asked.
"Emily… she's an orphan kid. Stayed at the orphan house.
Grew up with other kids there.
That's all I know about her."
There wasn't much Ashley could get from her…
so her eyes scanned the room with practiced ease, taking in every detail.
The wooden tables.
Then Ashley asked again,
"The girl with the white rose… who is she?"
"Oh, Seraphina Celeste?" she replied.
"She's… hmm… shy, I guess.
Doesn't speak to anyone—even with the girls.
We've tried, but she always runs."
"She's always with a book—holding it like a teddy bear."
Ashley leaned in, listening to every word she said.
Then she added,
"Sometimes… she watches people. Quietly. Sometimes just… stares."
She laughed a bit.
"Don't freak out if she does that to you. It's normal for her."
Ashley nodded and thanked her.
But before she could leave, Jane said,
"Go to the library. Rose will help you find what you're looking for."
Ashley went to the library.
As expected in a small town like this, it wasn't crowded.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
She found Rose behind the reception desk,
so she introduced herself—
asked if she could use the library for her work.
Rose gladly offered her a space tucked far in the back—
a small desk and a chair.
"You may use this place however you like,"
she said with a polite smile, then quietly walked away.
Ashley pulled out the chair—
not a single speck of dust could be found in this place.
Yet the scent of old books lingered in the air.
Quiet. Haunted.
But she brushed the feeling aside.
Slowly, she dove into the history section.
One name appeared over and over—
a history of this town.
A beautiful island,
yet so carefully cut off from the outside world.
She lost herself in the records.
So much so… she didn't return.
Not even for her meals.
Then at the corner, she found:
Ravensdale & Everleigh Co.
But… nothing made sense.
She read and re-read. Every version of the story. Nothing new.
"I must be missing something," she muttered.
One more book. She opened it.
R&E HISTORY BOOK
Written by Arthur Whitmore.
Confirmed by Alexander Marco. Stamped and Verified.
"This is not my original work. I merely reviewed the notes of Duke Alexander I, corrected them, and added proof.
His words were flawless—I simply made them easier to believe."
Ashley's eyes narrowed. She read on.
The Ravensdales—wealth, power, secrets.
They promised alliance with the Everleighs.
But greed shifted their path.
Instead of marrying their daughter to the Everleigh heir,
they betrayed them—arranging a union with a wealthier family.
Rage followed. The Everleighs kidnapped the daughter.
In the chaos, Lady Cassandra Ravensdale was killed.
Her daughter was executed on Everleigh land.
All over broken promises.
Ashley's hands trembled.
None of it added up.
"If Emily is the daughter… she died here only five years ago," she whispered.
"And Gordon… Gordon was still searching. His letter proves it."
Then—
A voice. "Ashley."
She gasped, startled.
It was Clara and Sebastian.
Clara moved closer, yet Sebastian just stood there, watching them from near the bookshelves.
Watching Ashley like this made Clara worried.
She then asked,
"What have you found so far?"
She smiled gently and added,
"You've been doing this ever since we got here, Ash."
Ashley sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"Nothing that makes sense. Arthur's book has no proof.
And Emily's death… doesn't line up."
She held out Gordon's letter.
"If this is real—then everything we know is wrong."
Sebastian nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing.
"What's that?" he asked,
pointing at the diary—
a small paper loosened from between the pages.
Emily's diary.
Ashley flipped through it. An unattached page slipped out.
"A lyric?" Clara tilted her head.
Ashley pulled it out.
A photograph of Emily and Selena.
Behind it—a lullaby.
Clara's eyes widened.
"No way. That's… a noble lullaby. But it's different."
The candle flickered.
Silence.
"Someone changed it. But why?"
She squinted. "This handwriting… definitely noble."
Ashley's voice was curious.
"How does it sound?"
Then Clara sang:
Hush, my dear, and close your eyes.
Don't be afraid—the sun will rise.
If one day you don't feel me here,
Call my name and I'll be near.
Then a candle flickered.
Suddenly—
Another voice.
From behind the aisle.
Soft. Haunting. Familiar. Continuing the song:
Hush, my dear, and close your eyes.
Don't be afraid—the sun will rise.
If one day you don't feel me here,
Don't cry for me—I won't be near.
They stared at her—breathless.
The girl tilted her head slightly and smiled.
Ashley called out, her voice cautious.
"Seraphina, how do you know this lullaby?"
Seraphina's shoulders tensed. She hugged her book tightly.
"Do you know Emily?" Ashley pressed.
Seraphina shook her head slowly.
"Who are you?" she whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
Suddenly, a male voice called from a distance.
"Sera!" They couldn't quite see who it was from their view.
Before Seraphina turned to leave, she spoke softly, her voice almost a whisper.
"You're cursed. Someone wants you to know that."
Then she was gone, leaving only shadows and silence behind.
"What was that?" Ashley breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her hands were still trembling, eyes fixed on the spot where Seraphina had vanished.
The air hung heavy—too thick, too dark.
Even Sebastian was silent, his gaze dark and unreadable.
Clara glanced between Sebastian and Ashley, concern shadowing her eyes.
She stepped forward, her voice soft but firm.
"Don't let it get to you."
She took Ashley's hands, her grip warm and steady.
"Ashley. We're here. You're not cursed."
But deep down, in the darkest corners of Ashley's mind,
she knew the truth—she was cursed.
Her eyes dropped to their joined hands, guilt twisting in her chest.
Clara's fingers tightened slightly, drawing her gaze back up.
Her smile was gentle, comforting.
"You know, over there—it's the fairy tale aisle."
Ashley's voice was light, almost teasing.
"You should go and see."
She lingered a moment longer, making sure Ashley was truly alright.
When Ashley gave a small, reluctant nod, Clara's shoulders eased.
"I'm gonna see what they've got in the fairy tale aisle," she declared with forced brightness, already moving away.
Her fingers trailed along the spines of old books, eyes bright with curiosity.
She paused, picking up a collection of fairy tales with a small, relieved smile—
as if clinging to the light in all that darkness.
Ashley watched her go, the warmth of Clara's hands lingering.
But her eyes drifted back to the shadows, to the words that still echoed in her mind.
You're cursed.
Sebastian looked at her—
his eyes dark and steady, seeing right through the façade.
He didn't need to ask; he already knew.
Ashley was not alright.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and unspoken.
Yet Sebastian's gaze never wavered, watching her with a quiet intensity—
as if waiting for her to say something, anything.
But Ashley's eyes stayed distant, shadows flickering behind them.
Then, Sebastian's eyes caught on a book—its spine faded and gold-embossed.
"Velmoria's Treasure," he read aloud, intrigued.
He turned to Ashley. "What's that about?"
Ashley barely glanced at it, her tone dismissive.
"It's just a story about Velmoria's treasure… mixed up with some curse fantasy. It's not real."
But then—something clicked.
Her mind snapped back to Seraphina's words earlier, that haunting line:
"You're cursed. Someone wants you to know that."
Without thinking, Ashley reached for the book and flipped it open, her heart pounding.
The first line was written in crimson ink, delicate and haunting:
I love you.
Yet you broke your promise.
So I'll put a curse on you.
To love forever—Though it wasn't real, yet it felt real.
Ashley's breath hitched. Her eyes darted across the page, reading faster.
Once the pendant freezes,
Then you'll know you are the cursed one.
Oh, my beloved,
Can you prove to me—That my love wasn't real?
To break it, a lady shall kill her loved one.
Bring me the blood of your beloved.
Then we will be free…
The words seemed to bleed into the paper, heavy and foreboding.
Ashley's hands trembled.
"This… can't be real," she whispered, but even she didn't believe it.
The candlelight flickered again, casting shadows that seemed to crawl closer.
Sebastian exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift in the air.
"Ashley… Clara must never hear about this,"
Sebastian's voice was low and trembling, barely more than a breath.
But Ashley's eyes stayed glued to the page, her heart racing.
"This can't be real—this is not real,"
Ashley muttered, desperately trying to deny it.
Yet deep down, she knew—
she and Sebastian were already caught in this curse.
Her eyes lifted to meet Sebastian's, glassy with fear and disbelief.
There must be another way.
But the words on the page seemed to echo back, dark and unrelenting—
To break it, a lady shall kill her loved one.
To be continued.
Next, Chapter 13: The Hidden Truth.