Chapter 5: The Web of Secrets

The halls of Valemont Manor were a maze of stone and shadow, lined with tapestries that told tales of conquest. Seraphina walked slowly, letting her fingers trail along the cold walls as she memorized the layout of her gilded prison.

The Duke had left early that morning for the royal court, and in his absence, the manor had fallen into an uneasy silence. It was strange—one might assume a house this vast would be full of life, yet the servants moved like ghosts, their eyes averted, their voices hushed.

Something was amiss.

Seraphina made her way toward the eastern wing, where the library was said to be. If she was to uncover Adrian's secrets, knowledge would be her greatest weapon.

Upon pushing open the grand wooden doors, she was greeted by the scent of aged parchment and polished oak. The library was massive, with towering shelves and velvet chairs arranged near a grand fireplace.

She ran her fingers along the spines of books, scanning the titles—histories, war accounts, treaties. But then, tucked into a dusty corner, she found something unexpected: a portrait.

It was a painting of a woman.

Seraphina's breath caught.

The woman had long raven-black hair, much like her own. Her high cheekbones and delicate features bore a striking resemblance to Seraphina's own reflection. And yet, she did not know this woman.

Who was she?

A floorboard creaked behind her.

Seraphina turned sharply, her heart hammering.

Standing in the doorway was Lady Eleanor, the housekeeper.

"You should not be in this part of the library, My Lady," Eleanor said smoothly, though her dark eyes held something sharper beneath the surface.

Seraphina tilted her head. "And why is that?"

Eleanor stepped forward, dusting off the corner of the portrait as if it had been waiting to be found. "The past is full of ghosts. Some should not be disturbed."

Seraphina met the older woman's gaze. "Who is she?"

Eleanor's lips pressed into a thin line. "A story for another day, perhaps."

Seraphina didn't miss the way Eleanor swiftly turned the portrait so that the woman's face was no longer visible.

A warning.

Or a challenge.

Seraphina's mind whirled as she left the library.

The servants' fear. The locked doors. The resemblance between her and the woman in the portrait.

Adrian was hiding something.

And whatever it was, it had something to do with her.