Lady-sonia 17 10 27 Secretly Spying On His Aunt... ⇒

The man turned.

When the servants found Lady-Sonia the next morning, she was sitting in the breakfast nook, humming a low, melodic tune. She smiled at Aunt Marguerite and said, “The moon is full in two nights now, isn’t it?”

Aunt Marguerite’s voice floated through the door, soft as a lullaby: “Don’t run, darling. We were all seventeen once. And every family needs a new keeper of the west wing.”

But the door to the west wing was locked once more. Lady-Sonia 17 10 27 Secretly Spying On His Aunt...

Tonight, Sonia decided to become a cat.

A man stood at the window, his back to the door. He was tall, dressed in a coat the color of midnight, and he did not cast a reflection in the mirror beside him. When he spoke, his voice was like distant thunder.

“Well, well,” he whispered. “Lady-Sonia. Seventeen years, ten months, twenty-seven days. Right on time.” The man turned

Her silver-streaked hair was unbound, cascading past her waist. She wore a gown of liquid crimson, embroidered with constellations. In her lap lay a leather-bound book, its pages glowing faintly, and her lips moved in a language that sounded like rain falling on glass.

His face was beautiful and terrible—ageless, with eyes like black diamonds. He smiled, and it was not a kind smile.

Aunt Marguerite only poured the tea, and her hand did not tremble. We were all seventeen once

And from inside, very faintly, someone new was learning to hum.

Sonia stumbled backward, but the floor had become a mirror, reflecting not her terrified face, but the face of a woman in a crimson gown holding a glowing book.

Then Sonia saw the second figure.

Sonia gasped. Too loud.

The Velvet Veil