The recurring nightmare I'd had before passed by again, but this time it wasn't as troubling as before. I still trembled, but not in hysteria or the frantic tossing and turning that had gripped me before. The dream seemed to be reminding me of the turn of events—whispers of something I couldn't yet understand. Perhaps I would face that mystery in time. For now, I felt a gentle hand caressing my hair, tender and caring as if I were a precious gem at hand. I forced myself to wake up, hoping to meet my savior again, but sadly, it wasn't her. Instead, I met a pair of worried eyes and a gentle smile from Lady Alysia Cain.
"Oh." I didn't mean to sound upset, but the word already slipped. I couldn't take it back. She heard it and grinned as if she knew who I was expecting to see, making me blush. I quickly averted her knowing look and asked instead, "What happened?"
"She, your fiancée, said you fainted at the old greenhouse, which had been closed off to everyone." Lady Alysia answered, but her eyes studied me like an open book. I couldn't look straight at her, but her next words caught my full attention. "No one could even step close to its perimeter."
I frowned, confused. "I saw no warning signs or felt any restriction stopping me from getting there. It was not even close." I said sharing my side despite my uncertainty in tone before adding briefly, "It opened just before I could touch the door, Mama. It's dusty and filled with dried rose petals, but as soon as I stepped inside, the candles, the lanterns, and even the chandelier lit up, as if welcoming me. There was no harm done even when I played the piano."
Lady Alysia listened attentively, though her disbelief was clear. "Impossible."
"I know you've been here longer than I have," I said, understanding her doubt, but I'm unwilling to lie. "But it happened, Mama." She fell silent, weighing my words like newly discovered information when I recalled the painting, catching her attention again. "Mama, there was a beautiful painting stored carefully there."
She frowned curiously, "Painting? What painting?"
I nodded eagerly. "The painting is a midnight-blue Fenrir. It was stunning, magical. Every detail was perfect—a majestic creature captured in every stroke. It was striking, mesmerizing." I answered, adoring the painting's life before asking, "Do you know who painted it?"
Lady Alysia's stern expression softened. Her voice held delicateness, as if I touched something fragile in her memory. "Mirxalyn, your fiancée. She used to paint and play piano, but that was a long time ago."
I was surprised that my soon-to-be wife was an artist before I even came into the picture. But I wanted to know something about her before we get married.
"May I know what happened?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to pressure her.
She studied me briefly, then sighed. "I can only share what I know. The rest must come from her. Do you understand?" I nodded. "The painting was the only Fenrir she was close to. They clashed like cats and dogs sometimes to get each other's attention, but their tandem worked beautifully. Then something happened, and she got lost."
It was brief, careful, but surely leaving serious matters unsaid, and I understood that. But those unsaid words left my heart twisted. I wasn't sure if I had the right to feel it, since I'd never met Mirxalyn in person. But the emotion was undeniable.
My lips pressed thin. I stayed quiet, afraid to react. But when I pictured the painting, one thing became certain. "She's happy," I muttered softly. Lady Alysia almost missed it if she wasn't a vampire, but gave me a curious look. I smiled sheepishly and said. "Ever since my wolf died, I've been sensitive to almost everything, and when I touched the painting, I felt her happiness. Every stroke, every color was chosen with care, like she was protecting her world with passion." Tears glinted in Lady Alysia's eyes as I expressed what I felt from the painting before I added softly, "I hope she'll hang it again and let it warm that place."
"Why do you think she had to hang it?" She asked carefully.
"Because I love it." I instantly regretted what I suddenly admitted. She grinned teasingly, and I blushed badly before correcting myself. "I mean, I love the area. It's peaceful, and it reminded me of what I had before the nightmares." I masked my embarrassment with enthusiasm, I continued, hoping, "I hope to be able to use that area one day, if you and your family allow me."
Lady Alysia smiled warmly, understanding my reason before teasing, "And how are you going to use it?"
"Do again what I did before I was diagnosed with PTSD and all," I answered quickly - too quickly because that painting reminded me of my old passion for arts and music. "I used to do arts, crafts, and music. That area was filled with serenity that I needed for my health, aside from books."
"Then you'd better talk to your fiancée." She chuckled, and I frowned.
"How can I? I haven't met her?" I sounded like a whining kid.
"Sometimes you don't need to see her; feel her because she's always around your shadow, listening, waiting for you to call for her help." She chuckled, but I'll keep it. "Try doing that."
I carefully considered it, and my heart betrayed me. I suddenly shivered, agitated when I thought of meeting my fiancée in person. Then I sighed heavily, "Maybe I'll try."
"Then I'll leave you to it." Lady Alysia said, leaving me in the room with a sigh.
Alone, I grabbed my pillow and covered my face, trying to ease the heat over my cheeks. "Breathe. Don't get nervous." I chanted quietly, doing breathing exercises. When I was calm, I got up from my bed when a sharp sting hit my head. It was bearable, but a nuisance. "Argh, annoying headache."
I ignored it and stepped onto the balcony to breathe fresh air. The cold December breeze was cool and calming, wrapping me in a sense of security. I looked over the dust-lit horizon, smiling a bit. I stretched my body a little before heading back inside, feeling strangely awake.
In the bathroom, I rummaged through my closet to change clothes when I saw the wooden box I had received before. Opening it, I tried to remember what was inside—a necklace with a heart-shaped rose petal garnet and a small light violet kunzite gem. It was beautiful, but too expensive for my slender figure. I was about to put it away when I heard a rustling sound come from my bedroom. I ran back to see Reaper, sitting weirdly on my bed.
I chuckled. "What are you doing?" I asked, approaching him, and saw something beneath his feet. "What are you hiding from me, hm?" Reaper didn't need to be told twice and just flew back to his nest. I shook my head and picked up the object. "Wait, this is the same box..."
I looked twice at the boxes from the one I was holding and the one on my bed—trying to recall how I got the first one. Suddenly, I gasped. It was the same. But this time, it had a letter and a blood rose flower with a ribbon caught my eye. I picked it; the letter was written in neat handwriting.
'I may not show myself as you expect me to be, but I assure you that I'm always at your side—a phantom shadow protecting you silently. I may get angry, but I would never hurt you. How could I, when you hold my heart even before you know it?''
I frowned, speechless. This letter had a mysterious vibe, but somehow my heart softened as if I knew who had sent it. Then I continued reading.
'I've given you a necklace as a token of my secret adoration. Now, I am giving you this box. I've kept it until you've aged, and now we're here, I hope you'll wear this. As promised.'
I don't understand its full meaning. It was confusing, but again, my heart seemed to recognize it from somewhere, from someone, though I couldn't remember it. I reread the same line one more time, but I can't - it hurts my head. I sighed, giving up on forcing my memory that my mind doesn't want me to know yet. Then I continued reading.
I know this is not the right way to do it, but different is unique.'
I frowned at that. Annoyed - trying to get irritated, but instead, I'm interested, curious.
'I, Mirxalyn Knightrose, take Bernila Daquila as my mate, my lover, and soon-to-be wife, with whom I'm going to share every fiber of my being once we're ready to do so. For now, let this ring be the sign of my everlasting vow...'
I was taken aback, stunned. My mind short-circuited, overwhelmed by the sudden proposal from Mirxalyn—my arranged partner—who poured her raw feelings into this letter. She proposed through a letter. I should have felt unsettled, but instead, the hidden emotions written there had touched me deeply.
'So, Bernila, will you do the honor of marrying me regardless of missing pieces that we're not ready to share, and hope that we do one day? Wear them.'
My heart has been skipping badly, overwhelmed, crying without control. "She's mysteriously sweet for the so-called conqueror bloody queen," I muttered, chuckling softly but feeling the sincerity beneath her words. I didn't know what to say. "You made me speechless but..." I closed my eyes, weighing the feelings flooding over me. I don't want to hurt her, out of fear of my yesterday, but I also don't want to leave her hanging with an uncertain answer either. I sighed deeply, relief washing over me as I found the words that felt right. Without hesitation, I whispered. "Yes."
Then Christmas Eve arrived—bright and joyful. But something is attached to my hand, her ring. I wore her ring, making our engagement real, though she proposed through that letter before the celebration.
Seriously, who does that? Well, her—Mirxalyn Knightrose, my arranged marriage partner.