Thornvale Groove…
A dense, wild forest nestled three hours away from here—isolated, quiet, and cloaked in mystery. And now, the next piece of the puzzle guiding me to my mother lay somewhere within it.
The system had been clear. I had to reach Thornvale Groove before it would reveal the next step.
Time was against me. I had no idea how long the window would stay open—or if it would open again if I missed it.
Thankfully, some things were already taken care of. I wouldn't have to worry about food, shelter, or even safety. If anything went wrong, I could slip into my pendant—the system's realm—at a moment's notice.
But that wasn't the problem.
The real challenge would be… convincing my father.
The man barely let Isla leave the mansion grounds for a stroll without guards flanking her and since I came I never went beyond the mansion gates. Me asking for permission to trek through a forest alone to follow a magical voice? That wasn't going to go over well.
Before I tackled that mountain, I had to talk to Sasha.
She sat nearby, contentedly working on the delicate embroidery of a handkerchief—tiny roses blooming beneath her skilled fingers. She looked so peaceful, her smile so soft. Ever since I'd encouraged her to marry Steven, she'd been walking around with that dreamy glow. Love suited her.
I hated that I was about to dim that glow.
"Sasha," I said gently.
She looked up instantly, her smile widening. "Yes, my lady?"
I hesitated for a heartbeat, then said it.
"I need to tell you something… I want to leave the mansion. I need to go search for my mother."
Her smile faded, just as I'd feared. Concern etched itself deep into her expression, replacing the blissful peace from moments before.
"Sasha, don't worry," I said quickly, reaching out to touch her arm. "I know what I'm doing. You trust me, right?"
She looked into my eyes, hesitant. "Of course I trust you, my lady. But… where would you even begin? No one knows what happened to the Duchess. She vanished without a trace."
Her concern was valid. Rational, even. But Sasha didn't know what I did.
That I had something no one else had.
A magical system that had just dropped a breadcrumb in the form of Thornvale Groove. It was like having a mystical version of Google Maps—only this one (hopefully) didn't reroute you through a swamp and say "you've arrived" in the middle of nowhere.
"I understand," I said softly. "But… I've found something. A sign. Something that might actually help me trace her. And even if there's only the smallest chance—just one percent—I have to try."
Sasha stared at me for a long moment. The embroidery slipped from her fingers onto her lap. I could see the war happening behind her eyes—fear and hope locked in a silent battle.
"You're all I have left of her," I added, my voice barely above a whisper. "And I need to know what really happened. Not the stories they told. The truth."
She took a breath, then slowly nodded.
"I don't like this," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "But if anyone can do this, it's you. Just promise me one thing…"
I leaned in. "Anything."
"Come back safe."
I smiled, feeling tears sting the corners of my eyes. "Deal.
________________________________________
The room was thick with silence, heavy and suffocating. The Duke sat rigidly in his chair, one hand clutching his temple while the other gripped the armrest with white-knuckled force. His eyes were clouded with fury, but beneath it, a raw and quiet panic churned—one only a father could understand.
Sasha knelt in the far corner of the room, trembling slightly, her gaze fixed on the floor. Shame and fear danced in her eyes, but she dared not lift them. Edward stood nearby, equally still, his head bowed low. Around them, the guards held their breath, some visibly shivering. They knew this wasn't just a breach in security—it was a betrayal of trust.
The young lady—the Duke's only daughter—was gone. She had slipped past them all.
"Does anybody know what happened?" the Duke finally asked, his voice low but cutting through the silence like a blade. He looked toward Sasha, his glare intense. "Maid Sasha. Are you not always with her? When did she leave—and why?"
There was a pause, everyone holding their breath.
And then, like a vulture circling a wounded creature, Amelia stepped forward, her voice oozing false concern. "My lord, please don't distress yourself. It's not worth your health to get so upset. Don't let that ungrateful girl bring you pain—"
She paused for effect, hand on her chest. "You've always given her everything, and what does she do in return? She runs away like some spoiled child. Truly… like mother, like—"
"Shut up, Lady Amelia!"
The Duke's voice exploded across the hall, echoing like thunder. The walls seemed to tremble with the weight of his fury. Everyone flinched.
Amelia paled instantly, shrinking backward. No matter how manipulative or bold she was in private, when the Duke roared, she shriveled like a dried leaf caught in a storm. She said no more.
The Duke turned sharply toward Sasha. "I asked you a question," he said again, this time slower, his voice eerily calm—a dangerous calm.
Sasha inhaled shakily, her voice a whisper at first. "My lord… the lady left… because she wants to find her mother."
A ripple of shock swept through the room. The guards exchanged glances, Edward's head still down, and Amelia's face twisted in a silent grimace.
"What?" the Duke asked, though he'd heard every word. He was simply too stunned to process it.
"She… she didn't want to worry you, my lord," Sasha continued, voice quivering. "She feared that you wouldn't allow her to go, so she made the decision to leave quietly then she..she..."
His jaw tightened.
"She what?" he asked again, his voice still controlled, but his knuckles turned whiter. His entire body was trembling, though not from rage anymore—from a father's desperation.
"She asked me to help her escape the mansion at night," came Edward's voice, steady but soft, breaking the tense silence like a hammer to glass.