MistNovel - Read Web Novel Stories & Fiction Online

Three days bled into one another with monotonous precision. Eve counted the hours by the arrival and departure of meal trays, by the changing quality of light through the heavy curtains, and by the careful rotation of servants who never spoke more than absolutely necessary. They entered with eyes downcast, moving through their duties with mechanical efficiency, and fled as quickly as propriety allowed.

She learned to read the subtle language of their fear. The youngest maid trembled when setting down the water pitcher, her hand shaking so much that water sloshed onto the silver tray. The older woman who brought dinner kept her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, her lips pressed into a thin line of severe disapproval. On the second day, a male servant delivering fresh linens actually flinched when Eve shifted position in her chair, a movement so quick and instinctual it told a story of past violence. Whatever Sera had done, it had left deep marks on everyone around her.

The chambers themselves offered little insight. Eve had searched every drawer, every cabinet, every corner with the thoroughness of someone conducting corporate espionage. She found expensive gowns in dark, somber colors of velvet and silk, jewelry that looked antique and valuable, and cosmetics in ornate containers that she had no idea how to use. But there was nothing personal. No letters, no journals, no trinkets or keepsakes. It was as if Sera had been scrubbed clean, leaving only the shell of a life behind.

On the fourth morning, Eve noticed the guard posted outside her door. She heard him shift his weight, the creak of leather and metal a constant reminder of her confinement. When she tested the door handle, she found it locked as always, but his shadow remained a dark, unwavering line in the gap beneath the frame. She knocked, polite but firm. "Excuse me."

Silence was the only reply.

"I simply want to know how long this confinement will last," she tried again, her voice clear and steady.

More silence, so complete it might have been carved from stone. Eve pressed her ear to the heavy wood and heard the faint rustle of movement. He was there. He was listening. He simply had no intention of responding to the dangerous witch locked in the gilded prison.

She stepped back, her analytical mind processing the data. The guard was not there for security, not really. A woman in a weak body, with nowhere to run, posed no real escape risk. No, this was theater. It was a public performance, a very visible reminder to everyone in the castle that Lady Sera was contained, controlled, and no longer a threat to the delicate social order. Every organization had its power dynamics, and every hierarchy had its weak points. She just had to find them.

Eve returned to the window, pressing her fingers against the cool glass. Below, she could see a courtyard where servants moved through their routines and nobles in elaborate clothing crossed from one building to another. A world in motion while she remained frozen in place.

The whispers reached her sometimes, when the wind was right and the guards outside grew careless. Fragments of conversation painted a picture more damning than any formal accusation.

"...heard she nearly killed three people..."

"...dark magic, the unnatural kind..."

"...always knew there was something wrong with that one..."

"...poor Lady Lilliana, having such a sister..."

Eve filed each whisper away, building a profile of her predecessor the way she had once built profiles of corporate rivals. Sera was feared for her magic. She had a history of violence, or at least perceived violence. She had a sister named Lilliana who apparently stood in stark contrast to her own reputation. And whatever "the incident" had been, it had been severe enough to warrant complete isolation.

On the fifth evening, as the last servant departed with barely concealed relief, Eve stood in the center of her prison and acknowledged the truth. She was not imprisoned for what she might do. She was imprisoned for what everyone believed she had already done, repeatedly and unforgivably. Her first priority was no longer escape. It was understanding. Why was Sera so universally hated? What had she done to earn such complete condemnation? And more importantly, how could Eve use that information to survive in a world that wanted nothing more than to see her locked away forever? The game had rules. She just needed to learn them.