Bab 10: Chapter 10: Unsettling Truths

Emilia

Damien has changed. He's no longer the cold, aloof man who treated me like a mere inconvenience in his life. Instead, there's a gentleness creeping into his actions, a subtle softening that both intrigues and unsettles me.

It begins with small things. He lingers in my presence, joining me for breakfast with a wry smile and casual conversation that feels almost… normal. He notices when I shiver by the fire and hands me his own shawl without a word, his hand grazing my shoulder just long enough to make me feel the heat of his touch. And, as much as I try to guard my heart, I can feel it start to falter.

Late one evening, as I stand by the library window watching the storm lash against the glass, I sense him enter the room. I expect him to ignore me, to rifle through the books and disappear, but he surprises me.

"Do you often watch storms?" he asks quietly, moving to stand beside me. His gaze is on the raging sky outside, but there's a softness in his eyes that I've rarely seen.

I glance at him, feeling a flicker of warmth. "I used to, when I was little. My mother and I would sit by the window during thunderstorms and tell each other stories. It was… calming." The words slip out before I realize I've shared a piece of myself, a memory I usually keep locked away.

Damien nods, his gaze far-off. "I used to think storms were a kind of reminder," he murmurs, almost to himself. "That no matter how much darkness surrounded me, there was always something cleansing, something powerful in facing it."

There's a vulnerability in his words that catches me off guard, and for a moment, we're just two people sharing fragments of broken pasts, bound by the invisible threads of our own scars.

"I didn't expect you to feel that way," I say softly, surprised by my own words. "You seem so… unshakeable."

He glances at me, and for the first time, I see a faint smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "I'm human, Emilia. Just as you are. Beneath all of this…" He gestures around the grand, yet haunted, mansion. "I'm simply someone who's been forced to wear armor most of his life."

A silence settles between us, a fragile, peaceful silence that feels like a step towards something I don't quite understand. Yet even as warmth stirs in me, there's an unsettling doubt that I can't ignore. His kindness feels genuine, but in the back of my mind, I remember the warnings, the letter that appeared on my pillow.

And then, just when I think I might ask him, to find the courage to press for the truth, a sound interrupts our moment—a faint, unmistakable creak echoing from the forbidden wing.

My eyes snap up, and I see a flicker of movement at the edge of my vision, just beyond the darkened hall that leads to that part of the house. I stiffen, my heart pounding as I realize I'm not imagining it. There are footsteps, slow and measured, coming from the direction of the wing that no one ever enters, the part of the house everyone says is off-limits.

Damien tenses beside me, his jaw tightening as his gaze shifts toward the sound. But before I can question him, he clears his throat, forcing his expression back to calm neutrality.

"Stay here," he says firmly, his voice low and commanding.

"No," I blurt out, surprised by my own defiance. "You keep telling me not to question things, but I can't pretend I don't hear it too. I know there's something you're hiding."

His gaze flickers, a mix of frustration and something else—something almost like regret. He seems torn, as if he wants to say something, to offer me a thread of truth, but can't bring himself to do it.

"Emilia, this house… there are parts of it you don't want to know about," he says, his voice edged with warning. "For your own sake, just trust me."

But his words only ignite a stronger resolve within me. "No, I can't do that anymore. I want to know what's happening here. I deserve to know."

He sighs, his hand running through his hair as he looks away. "It's dangerous," he says finally, his tone low, almost a whisper.

A long silence stretches between us, his warning hanging in the air. But I can't suppress the pull of curiosity, the feeling that I'm being led down a path with only pieces of a story I don't yet understand. So, without waiting for his approval, I step past him, my heart pounding as I move toward the forbidden wing.

I sense Damien watching me, perhaps torn between stopping me and letting me go, but he doesn't say a word. I feel his presence behind me as I make my way down the dim corridor, the air thick with a sense of foreboding.

As I approach the door, my hand trembling slightly, I feel a shiver crawl up my spine. The closer I get, the louder the footsteps become, echoing faintly beyond the door, steady and rhythmic, as if someone is pacing on the other side.

I glance back at Damien, my resolve wavering for just a moment. But the look in his eyes—conflicted, pained—only strengthens my resolve. Whatever secrets lie behind this door, I need to know. I need to understand.

And just as my hand brushes the door handle, Damien speaks, his voice a harsh whisper filled with urgency. "Emilia… please, stop."

But it's too late. I turn the handle, feeling a surge of dread mixed with exhilaration as I push the door open, revealing a dark, cavernous room filled with shadows. I step inside, feeling Damien's presence at my back, and my heart races as my eyes adjust to the dim light.

The room is empty, but there's an unsettling stillness, a feeling of being watched, of stepping into a space that's not meant to be disturbed.

Just then, from somewhere deep within the shadows, I hear a voice—a low, cold whisper that sends chills down my spine.

"Who told you you could come here?"

I gasp, stepping back instinctively, and Damien's hand is on my arm, pulling me back toward the door, his face pale, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and fear.

"Now you've done it," he murmurs, his voice shaking just slightly. "Now there's no going back."

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Pilih

KIRIM HADIAH

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