Evelyn, a modern woman, finds herself suddenly transmigrated into a novel where her peaceful life is turned upside down by a crazy Duke who happens to be her husband. Her new life is a maze of danger and betrayal, as the Duke is determined to kill h...
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Tomorrow came faster than I thought. I was standing outside while the servants were finishing loading my luggage. Misham was waiting, standing beside me. Holding the ham of my sleeves, he asked, looking lonely, "Do you have to go, madam? Can I not come with you?" Holding his shoulder softly, I said, "Wait here, I will return after some days. Till then, be a good boy, hmm?" Nodding his head, he replied. A male servant came bowing his head. He said, "Madam, it's time to leave." Casting a smile at Misham, I left for my departure. As Martha said, it took three days to reach the Will's residence.
The wind here was blowing harder, making howling noises as it blew. Tree branches were covered in snow, and the village we passed desperately needed supplies for this harsh winter.
The same can be said for the Will's mansion. It looks like more of a ghost house than a place for people to live in. An old lady was standing in front of the main door; as I stepped outside the carriage, she stepped forward to welcome me.
"Greetings to the Duchess of Dragun, welcome to our humble home." Her body trembles in the cold, yet she emits elegance. She introduce herself as Julianna. I nod my head slightly in reply and add, "I suppose you already know about the purpose of my visit." "Young and impatient, I see." She said, sounding inviting and enthusiastic.
The inside was simple, but the walls bear the history of these people. The craft on the walls was enough to tell how old this mansion was. The house was cold, damp, and dark. And the windows were tiny openings with wooden shutters closed at night or in bad weather, like today. Snow falls like a monsoon.
Not many people live here; hardly any servants can be seen. Each step felt heavy as we walked further; the sound echoed through the hallway. "The mansion seems big for so few people," gazing at her back, I spoke. "Do you see these walls, these drawings," turning back at me, "they spoke of the unknown. The history buried beneath the feet of the cruel savages and the screaming of the victims was engulfed by them. That's the history this mansion speaks of, the Will's residence, the mansion of Hallow." Eyes full of sorrow, voice hostile, "Once known as the mansion of Dhraeigonrt. Strange, isn't it?"
Her words were true, true as the sun and the moon. The tragedy was unfathomable, unforgeable, but the cause was not me. Her hostility is unnecessary. My eyes remain calm yet with a bit of coldness.
"How come a heart of stone is carrying the fire?" she kept talking, to which I was silent. An iron door came into sight, that was our stop. Given the suspense, I suppose behind that door my answers lies. I was about to take a step forward when I looked through my eye corner and spoke tonelessly, "given a witch's power, I think it is them who is most responsible for their downfall. You had the power yet choose to yield. Wait for only one person whom you not know of or when might she appear. Giving up on yourself was the worst you people did. Try to correct that mistake. Who knows, it might bring out a more promising future, more then a phoenix might ever could." At my touch the iron door open, inside was obscured.
