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"Young master!" A maid yelped, her hurried steps echoing down a lavish hallway adorned with trophies, gilded portraits, and ancient relics of triumph.
Her call fell on deaf ears, swallowed by the suffocating silence of the grand estate.
"Here!" A young Aurora whispered beneath the cover of her sheets, cradling a small white rabbit in her lap. She gently ran her fingers through its soft fur, offering it a piece of food. The world outside her little sanctuary was cold, distant—but here, in the dim glow of her room, there was warmth.
Then, the old, crooked door creaked open.
Aurora unraveled herself from the blankets, still clutching the rabbit as she turned to face the intruder.
"What is it, Penelope?" she asked, her voice innocent and unbothered.
The maid stood at the threshold, her hands clasped tightly before her. Her usual warm smile was stiff—forced.
"Lady Aurora, you have been summoned to the Headmaster's chambers." A brittle, rehearsed tone carried the words, yet sorrow cracked through her puppet-like grin.
Aurora blinked. "Why?"
"I do not know." Penelope's gaze wavered, her breath unsteady. She hesitated before adding, "You shall be accompanied by Claire."Penelope said while slightly gesturing at the rabbit
Aurora's eyes lit up, She looked down at the rabbit nestled in her arms.
"Then I can take him!" she beamed, jumping to her feet and racing past Penelope without waiting for a reply.
The maid's lips quivered. A single tear traced down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, took a breath, and followed, closing the door behind her.
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The hallway stretched endlessly, its walls drowning in accolades, each one bearing a single name in gold lettering:
"Lerosy Astryn."
Aurora's skipping steps echoed against the polished floors, starkly contrasting the sluggish, reluctant pace of the maid behind her. The air was heavy with an unspoken grief, but Aurora, too young to understand, remained blissfully unaware.
At last, they arrived.
Before them stood the doors—massive, looming slabs of black steel, adorned with carvings of draconic beasts locked in an eternal battle.
Aurora stepped forward, expecting Penelope to follow as she always had. But the maid remained frozen.
Penelope's eyes refused to meet hers, staring off into the void as if looking upon Aurora was the greatest sin a mortal could commit.
Aurora hesitated. "Aren't you coming?"
Silence. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper— "I have been asked not to accompany you."
The words seemed to hurt Penelope more than they did Aurora.
Aurora frowned but nodded. "Okay."
And with that, she pressed her small hands against the cold metal doors and stepped inside.
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The chamber was still.
A suffocating silence loomed over the room, broken only by the distant flicker of a lone torch. Shadows clung to the walls, stretching long and ominous.
And there, standing at the far end of a wooden table, was her father.
The man adorned with titles and honors.
His jet-black hair, neat and unshaken. His long black coat, draped like a mantle of authority. His gaze, sharp and unreadable.
Between them, the table stood like a battlefield waiting to be bloodied.
"Father?" Aurora's voice was small, uncertain. The rabbit stirred in her arms, sensing the tension she had yet to grasp.
Her father lifted a hand and pointed toward the table.
"Place the rabbit down."
Aurora hesitated. The rabbit's paws twitched against her fingers, its tiny heartbeat fluttering against her palm.
A faint, red stain marred the wooden surface.
Still, she obeyed. Gently, she set the rabbit onto the table. Its white fur soaked in the remnants of whatever had come before.
Her father moved toward her, silent as a shadow. Then, he placed a knife in her small hands.
"Wet the blade."
Aurora stared at the knife, confusion flickering in her eyes before horror settled in.
"What? No…" Her grip loosened, fingers trembling. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
"If you refuse, you will be disinherited." His voice was devoid of warmth, a judge delivering a sentence. "You will be sent to the Lower House. There, you will be a political tool—your only purpose to elevate the name of the Astryns through marriage."
Aurora shook her head, stepping back. "No, I don't—"
She tried to push him away. He did not budge.
The knife slipped from her hands and clattered against the floor.
A sigh escaped her father's lips.
"So be it."
He bent down, retrieved the knife, and without a second's hesitation—
He drove it through the rabbit.
The blade pierced flesh, then wood. The rabbit's fragile body jerked against the impact, a shriek tearing from its throat.
A choked, desperate cry.
Aurora screamed.
Blood sprayed across the table, onto her hands, her face. The once soft, white fur became soaked in red.
The creature's tiny lungs fought for air. It struggled, twitched—then, finally, lay still.
The silence returned.
Aurora's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps.
Her father turned, wiping the blade clean as if nothing had happened.
"Now leave."
His voice was empty. Cold.
"And never show your face to me again."
Aurora didn't move. She couldn't.
She stood in the pool of the rabbit's blood, paralyzed.
Then, rough hands grabbed her. She barely registered the servants who dragged her away, her mind drowning in the crimson vision burned into her skull.
While she was being dragged out she saw Penelope enter the room
Beyond the doors, her father spoke to Penelope.
"Clean the room. Reset the furniture. Send another maid to remove the furniture from her room"
And then—just like that—he was done with her.
Aurora was thrown into a carriage. The doors slammed shut.
And for the first time in her life, she truly understood what it meant to be alone.