When I awoke, it was still the depths of night.
I cracked open the tightly shuttered window, and cool night air rushed in to greet me. Beyond the glass, the song of crickets drifted through the darkness. In the distance, I could make out the silhouettes of knights on their nightly patrol—a ritual of the Grand Duke's castle.
Their movements were subtly different from those I had known at the Duke of Madeleine's residence. I tilted my head, struck by the unfamiliarity.
At the Madeleine estate, I had often—perhaps too often—witnessed the servants on their midnight rounds. There had been countless nights when sleep eluded me, or when I woke trembling from dreams I could not escape.
But since coming to the Grand Duke's residence... since arriving in Vikander territory... I had not woken in the small hours like this. Not once.
I searched for something familiar within this unfamiliar night.
The bed where I had lain moments ago. The desk where I wrote my diary each evening. The table where I took my tea. A sofa perfectly suited for lounging. A dressing room overflowing with jewels and gowns, as lavish as any boutique.
Everything I beheld felt like it belonged to me. All of it—mine.
The moment that realization settled over me, my fingertips trembled.
My heart pounded loudly as the happiness I had thought I'd grown accustomed to suddenly struck me as an overwhelming reality. If this happiness was truly mine... then I wanted to see, with my own eyes, the greatest joy that had come into my life.
Without another thought, I rushed toward the door.
I couldn't recall where Edwin's chambers were located. But somehow, I felt certain that if I simply opened this door and stepped outside, I would find him.
---
---
---
"It's an anklet! Mama told me to give it to you! She says she hasn't made one in such a long time, so she hopes you'll appreciate it even if it's not perfect. They say if you wear it, your wishes will come true!"
The child's excited chatter faded into silence.
I stared at her outstretched hand, forgetting to breathe.
On that small palm—now just beginning to fill out with healthy weight—lay an anklet woven from colorful twisted threads.
The method of twisting and weaving those threads... the unique knots used to bind them together...
It was achingly similar to my mother's thread anklet—the one that had been stolen from my nanny long ago.
The one I had never seen again.