Miralen and Verbena stepped inside the house. The warmth of the manor greeted them immediately. Servants moved quietly through the halls, carrying trays, arranging flowers, dusting furniture with practiced ease.
The moment they noticed the sisters, they paused and bowed politely. "Welcome back, Miss Delayna. Miss Verbena." Miralen gave a small nod in acknowledgment.
Then she turned toward Verbena. "I'm going to my room."
Verbena smiled warmly. "Okay, sister." She hesitated for a second before adding softly, "If you need anything… tell me, alright?"
Miralen paused. Something about the concern in Verbena's voice and expression felt strangely genuine. She gave a small smile. "I will." Verbena grinned instantly. "Good."
Without another word, Miralen turned and headed upstairs.
The moment she entered Delayna's room, she shut the door behind her and locked it.
Click.
Silence. Finally.
Miralen exhaled deeply and walked toward the bed. Then sat heavily at its edge. "Why is everything getting so confusing?" she muttered to herself.
Her hands fell limply into her lap. "First Verbena… then Delayna…" she sighed dramatically, "…and now royal people." She slowly fell backward onto the mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Why is everything attacking me at once?"
A long sigh escaped her. "I'm mentally exhausted." She slowly raised a hand above her face, staring at it. "…Though," she murmured thoughtfully, flexing her fingers slightly, "I don't actually feel tired in this body."
She blinked, then shrugged. "Well. Good for me. At least I will survive longer." She dropped her hands back on bed. "Thanks to Delayna for maintaining this body so well."
Miralen rolled onto her stomach, burying half her face into the soft mattress. "How am I even supposed to solve this mess?" she mumbled. "So many questions…" Her voice came out muffled."I came here to free Verbena's soul and somehow got dragged into Delayna's past problems too."
She buried her face deeper. "I feel soo helpless."
Silence.
Then— a thought struck her. Miralen suddenly lifted her head. "…Caedmon." She sat upright instantly. "I should ask him!"
A second later— her excitement disappeared. "…Wait." She frowned. "How do I even talk to him?"
She groaned loudly, dragging a hand through her hair. "Why is everything so frustrating?!" Then— another memory clicked.
Miralen froze. "…The book." Her eyes widened slightly. "He said I could write in it if I wanted to talk."
A hopeful smile slowly spread across her face. "Right…" She sat straighter. "He told me to open my hands like a book." Miralen carefully joined her hands together. Then slowly opened them.
Immediately— light burst between her palms. A glowing book appeared, hovering weightlessly above her hands. Its pages flipped rapidly on their own. Miralen's eyes widened.
Before she could react— a streak of golden light shot upward toward the ceiling. Then— everything changed. Soft ribbons of glowing light spread outward, weaving around the room like silk.
The world darkened. Not frighteningly— but gently. Like night wrapping itself around her. The bedroom disappeared. A strange void– like space formed around her.
Dark. Yet glowing. Silent. Yet alive.
Miralen slowly stood. "…Whoa." The floating book lifted higher before her. A soft pulse spread outward. Her dress fluttered gently in the unseen wind. Golden strands of light curled around her like flowing threads.
Then— beneath her feet— a giant golden clock bloomed. Intricate and beautiful. Its sharp hands gleamed beneath curling jasmine vines. The hands spun rapidly.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Then it stopped exactly at twelve. Miralen looked down in shock. "What is happening–" Before she could finish— a portal appeared before her. Golden and elegant. Its edges curved softly like carved antique glass.
Jasmine flowers bloomed across its frame, intertwined with glowing ivy roots that spread across the invisible floor. Miralen tilted her head. "…Now what is this?"
A figure slowly emerged from the portal. At first— only shadows. Then details starts to be visible. Black tailcoat, dark trousers, crisp white shirt and an emerald gem at the collar.
Miralen blinked. Then narrowed her eyes. "…Caedmon?"
The figure stepped closer. And there he was the same unreadable face, same calm expression, same annoyingly composed energy.
Miralen immediately frowned. Caedmon blinked once. "What's with that expression?" he asked calmly. Miralen pointed at him immediately. "No." She narrowed her eyes harder. "I should be asking you that."
Caedmon raised a brow. Miralen crossed her arms. "What is with that dead stupid look on your face and also that ridiculous stare?" she asked dramatically.
Caedmon looked personally offended. "What" he said, blinked once "do you mean by dead stupid look and ridiculous stare?" Miralen leaned slightly forward and tilted her face, "Oh, so you are idiot also. I thought you were just ugly."
Caedmon gasped, like she just insulted ten generations of his ancestors. "Excuse me?!" He pointed dramatically at her. "Whom are you calling ugly?! When you yourself look like a rotten rat!"
Miralen's jaw dropped. She put her hands on her waist. "How dare you to call me rotten rat?!" She pointed aggressively at him, "You donkey– monkey hybrid!"
Caedmon looked genuinely offended. "Donkey. Monkey. Hybrid?" He stepped forward, "you little menace. Say that one more time!" Miralen crossed her arms fearlessly. "Donkey. And. Monkey. Hybrid." She repeated it dramatically, like challenging him into a roast battle.
Caedmon was flaring with anger. His left eye was twitching with indescribable rage. Then he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly trying to calm himself and return his composer back.
He looked back at Miralen, his unreadable, calm and composed expression had returned.
"Fine." His voice was suspiciously calm. "If you are going insult me like that..." He folded his arm, "then i am not going to help you."
Miralen blinked in shock, "what?"
"You called me here to help you, right?" He shrugged, "well too bad. I am not going to do anything now." Miralen blinked again, then she raised a brow. "Oh really?" She folded her arms. "Okay."
Caedmon looked at her confused, "okay?" Miralen waved her hand dismissively. "You are useless anyways." Caedmon froze, his eye twitched again. "Useless?" He asked, "How am I useless?"
Miralen started counting on her fingers. "You never explain me anything properly. One."
"When I ask questions, you answer it so mysteriously that it starts feel like I am talking to a grandfather who wants to sound wise. Two."
"You refuse to help with most of the things. Three."
"At last I have to do everything all by myself and you just sit there judging me." She looked at him, folding her arms back.
Then she narrowed her eyes at him. "So tell me. How exactly am I suppose to call you useful?" Caedmon opened his mouth to answer but nothing came. Cause in one way or another, she had a point. But that doesn't mean he don't want to help. He wants to, but the cathedral's rules stops him.
He looked aside. Defeated. "Whatever, you are still rude." Miralen raised a brow in amusement, "And you are still useless." She replied with a smile.
(The end of chapter 19)