Prologue — Emily's Diary
There are things I will never say out loud.
Things that only exist within these pages—whispered secrets,
unfinished thoughts, the weight of my love and my loss.
If you are reading this… then you must be searching for me.
But tell me, dear stranger—do you truly wish to know the truth?
Because once you do… you will be a part of me.
My name is Emily.
My last name? Well, I don't have one.
My parents? I don't have them either.
My childhood… it's a bit fuzzy.
The earliest thing I remember is the first time I laid eyes on my best friend,
Selena Montgomery.
Selena Montgomery
Selena Montgomery is a sweetheart.
I adore her. She's clever, bright… but sometimes, she makes mistakes.
The one I always remember is the time I tried to teach her how to bake a cake.
Her clumsy hands ruined the batter.
The sponge cake? It turned into a brick.
I laughed so hard that day.
I loved her.
After that, we were inseparable.
We shared everything—every secret, every thought.
Until… maybe when I was fifteen.
I started working at Miss Mary's shop, and that was when I first fell in love—
with jewelry.
Of all things, jewelry captivated me the most.
It was glamorous, enchanting.
The way it shimmered, the way it felt against my skin—
it spoke to me.
I eventually got my own place after work,
and Selena and I still spent time together.
But something was… different.
For years now, I've had these dreams.
At least, I think they're dreams.
But they feel so real.
Sometimes, I wonder if they're not dreams at all.
Every night at 3 AM, I hear a knock at my door.
I can never bring myself to open it.
And then… I met him.
He was a delivery boy.
But when I saw him—his face, his eyes—
it was like they were speaking to me.
His voice felt familiar, though I didn't know why.
Days passed. Weeks. Months.
The knocking never stopped.
It got louder.
Then… the visions started.
They were always of the same man—the delivery boy—
But it wasn't him, not exactly.
It was as if I had seen him before,
in another time, another place.
I didn't know who to tell,
so I wrote in this diary.
Today, Selena was furious with me.
I broke her necklace—a beautiful piece with a blood-red gem.
When I touched it, something strange happened.
For a brief moment, I saw him again.
The necklace—it almost looked alive.
As if the gem had its own heartbeat.
The moment it shattered,
Selena's anger burned through me, but… I knew.
I knew why.
This morning, everything felt the same as yesterday.
But the knocking at 3 AM… it's getting louder.
And now—now there's a voice in my head.
I don't dare open the door.
But I know, soon, I will have no choice.
I just hope… today is different.
I hope today,
I find the answers…
Present Day
Morning arrived in Don Vo Domaill,
the golden sunlight stretching across the island,
casting a warm glow over the gentle waves.
The salty breeze carried the scent of the ocean,
filling the air with a crisp freshness.
A place like this should have been perfect for a vacation.
But for Ashley… it didn't feel like a getaway at all.
Not when Emily's diary and Gordon's letter sat before her,
heavy with unanswered questions.
She had a new lead.
And she wouldn't rest until she uncovered the truth.
Clara and Ashley stood in the kitchen,
cleaning up after breakfast.
Sebastian, seated nearby,
absentmindedly flipped through Clara's notebooks,
though his attention wasn't really on the pages.
Clara glanced up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Ash, we're going out today. Will you be joining us?"
Ashley hesitated, then gave a small, apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry… I need to study Emily's diary."
Clara nodded in understanding.
"That's alright. Just don't overdo it."
But before she could even put the last dish down—
Sebastian had already taken her hand.
Ashley blinked.
Sebastian didn't even wait.
Without a single word,
he was already leading Clara toward the door.
Ashley squinted after them, her face deadpan.
"Damn. He really couldn't wait another second, huh?"
Just before stepping outside, Sebastian turned back.
"Do you need anything?"
Ashley crossed her arms, still staring.
"…Anything will do," she finally muttered, raising a brow at him.
Sebastian gave a nod—completely unfazed.
Then, without a second glance, he and Clara were gone.
Ashley sighed, shaking her head.
"…Yeah. He's gone."
Soon Ashley sat at her desk, staring down at Emily's diary.
She sighed. Her hands trembled.
Somehow… the dream from last night still haunted her.
The images were still too fresh, too vivid.
But she gathered her courage, inhaling deeply before opening the first page.
She read for hours.
Page after page.
Yet… nothing stood out. Not yet.
Ashley leaned back, exhaling.
"Hm… so Emily was like a princess," she whispered to herself.
"A perfect girl. No wonder Clara liked her so much."
She let out a small, dry chuckle.
Then—she continued reading.
Time slipped away.
She didn't even notice the hours passing until—
A knock at the door.
A male voice.
"Open the door, Ashley."
Ashley froze.
The voice was too deep. Too unfamiliar.
Something about it felt… wrong.
Unlike Emily… Ashley moved toward the door.
Her fingers hovered over the handle.
And just as she was about to touch it—
The door creaked open.
Sebastian and Clara stood there.
Sebastian's face was pale.
"Ash! What are you doing?"
Ashley blinked, snapping back into reality.
Her chest rose and fell quickly.
What… was she doing?
Something's Off
Quickly, she forced a smile.
"Nothing. I just finished reading. Needed some fresh air."
Sebastian watched her carefully.
His gaze lingered—studying her.
Something about her was… off.
Clara's voice was soft, but there was a quiet warning in it.
"Don't get lost, Ash. It's already dark outside."
Ashley gave a small, reassuring smile.
"Yeah. Just a minute."
Then, without another word, she stepped outside.
Is This What Emily Felt?
The cold air hit her skin,
but her mind was still trapped inside Emily's diary.
She walked slowly, whispering to the night.
"Emily… do you want me to uncover your secrets?"
A chill ran down her spine.
Ashley shook her head sharply.
"What am I doing?"
She had never believed in spirits, fate, or curses.
But now? Her heart felt different.
Without another word,
she turned back inside—
back to her desk, back to Emily's words.
Clara was already asleep in her room.
Sebastian slept on the couch, arms folded, breathing steady.
And Ashley…
Ashley was still reading.
The room was silent.
Only the soft flicker of a single candle kept her company,
its weak flame swaying with every breath of air.
Shadows danced across the pages of Emily's diary.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned another page.
Emily's diary read:
"For years now, I've had these dreams.
At least, I think they're dreams.
But they feel so real.
Sometimes, I wonder if they're not dreams at all.
Every night at 3 AM, I hear a knock at my door.
I can never bring myself to open it."
Then—the clock struck 3 AM.
The cuckoo clock echoed through the room.
Ashley stiffened.
Her hands tightened around the diary.
A slow, heavy knock.
Then another.
Then a third.
Three knocks.
Her breath hitched.
"No way…"
Sebastian. He must be messing with her. Right?
She shut her eyes, trying to think logically.
She stood up.
Moved toward the door.
Her hand hovered over the handle when—
A hand gripped her shoulder.
Ashley flinched, spinning around—
"Gordon?"
She had spoken without thinking.
Sebastian raised a brow.
"Gordon?"
Silence.
Then Sebastian stood before her.
Their eyes met.
For a moment—just a flicker of a second—she felt something.
A weight in her chest. A pull.
Her eyes burned—an emotion rising she didn't understand.
Was this… Was this love?
And why Sebastian?
Ashley's voice softened.
"Can you hear that?"
Sebastian didn't blink.
Slowly, he shook his head.
His voice was low.
"Get some rest."
"You've been reading that diary for too long."
"Don't let it take over you."
Then, without waiting for her response,
he gently pushed her toward her room.
Ashley swallowed.
She looked at the diary one last time.
Then, reluctantly,
she let Sebastian close the door behind her.
The Next Day
When Ashley opened her eyes,
the light in the room felt… off.
It wasn't morning anymore.
The sun's golden glow had shifted—
it was already past four.
She groaned, pushing herself up,
her body heavy with exhaustion.
That's when she noticed it—
a small note resting on her bedside table.
Clara's handwriting.
Frowning, she reached for the paper and began to read.
Clara's Note:
Morning, Ashley.
I wanted to stay until you woke up, but Sebastian couldn't wait much longer, so I figured I'd leave you this note instead. Didn't want you freaking out when you woke up alone.
I left breakfast on the table. If you wake up late, just—
The letter ended abruptly.
Ashley laughed softly, imagining Sebastian pulling Clara away in a hurry.
She stared at the note, mind still foggy.
A small cough escaped her lips,
her throat raw, her body warm.
"Am I sick…?" she murmured, rubbing her temples.
The exhaustion pulled her back down,
and before she knew it,
she was asleep again.
A sound.
Soft, barely there—the creaking of a door.
Ashley's eyes fluttered open just as Clara stepped inside.
Concern flickered across Clara's face, her eyes narrowing.
"Ash… you didn't even touch your food."
Ashley blinked slowly, trying to focus,
but the room blurred at the edges.
Clara stepped closer, her touch cool against Ashley's forehead.
Her brows furrowed.
"You're burning up," she murmured, voice soft but firm.
Ashley barely had the energy to respond.
Clara sighed, the sound gentle but exasperated.
"Hold on. I'll make you some tea. You should eat something, you know."
She turned toward the door,
and as she stepped out, Ashley caught the soft murmur of voices through the gap.
Clara's voice, hushed but worried:
"Sebastian, Ash has a fever. Can you bring this wet towel to her? I'm making tea."
A pause.
Then—Sebastian's voice, warm and teasing:
"Can I have one too, Dove?"
Then Sebastian stepped in, a damp towel in his hands.
His eyes settled on Ashley,
a touch of amusement softening the concern.
"We told you not to overdo it, didn't we?"
Ashley managed a small, tired smile,
pressing the cool towel to her forehead.
Sebastian pulled up a chair beside her, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
For a moment, he just watched her—
the room heavy with silence and the muted light through the curtains.
And then—he asked it.
"Why did you call me Gordon yesterday?"
Ashley's breath hitched.
Her fingers tightened faintly around the towel,
eyes flickering to his.
For a second, she didn't know what to say.
Then, finally—
"…It just felt natural."
The silence stretched.
Heavy. Aching.
For a wild moment, they just looked at each other.
No words.
Only the quiet thrum of things unspoken.
The urge to speak lingered—
but neither moved to break the silence.
The door creaked softly,
a reminder that some things were better left unsaid.
Then Sebastian stood.
He turned to leave.
But—Ashley caught his arm.
Her grip was weak, trembling, hesitant.
Sebastian froze, looking down at her in confusion.
Ashley's lips parted.
Her voice, soft and fragile, barely made it past her throat.
"…I'm scared."
Sebastian's brows furrowed.
"Why?"
For a moment, she didn't answer.
Her fingers tightened just slightly around his sleeve.
Then—finally—she whispered the truth.
"I'm scared to fall in love."
"And I don't want it."
Silence…
Sebastian closed his eyes.
Somehow… he already knew.
And yet—when he spoke,
his voice was just as broken.
"…And… I don't want it either."
He didn't look at her.
But his hand reached out anyway.
And for just a second—he held hers.
So tightly.
As if he could keep something that was already slipping away.
Then—the wind shifted.
A slow breeze drifted through the room, rustling the curtains.
The fabric swayed, just for a moment.
A soft whisper of air,
a fleeting pause—
as if the world itself had stopped to listen.
Sebastian's fingers unclenched.
He let go.
And without another word—
he walked away.
The door closed behind him.
Sebastian stood there.
Silent.
The hallway was empty,
but his chest was tight.
His footsteps should've carried him forward.
But they didn't.
For a moment—just a fleeting second—
he almost turned back.
But he didn't.
He exhaled slowly.
His fingers trembled.
Ashley's words still echoed in his mind.
"I'm scared to fall in love."
"And I don't want it."
His jaw tightened.
The words had hit too close.
Too raw.
Without thinking, his lips had replied:
"I don't want it either."
But his heart whispered—
soft, bitter, and honest:
"That's a lie."
The thought struck him hard,
but he shoved it away—
like a knife twisting in his chest.
He had to keep walking.
So he did.
One step.
Then another.
But as he moved through the dimly lit hallway,
the silence felt suffocating.
And that's when he realized—
his hand was shaking.
The same hand that had just held Ashley's.
His grip was tight, knuckles white—
as if he could still feel her warmth in his palm.
As if letting go wasn't just physical—
it was something deeper.
Something slipping through his fingers.
Sebastian cursed under his breath.
His eyes darkened, fists trembling with a hatred that burned like poison.
The Vale blood.
It was always the Vale blood.
Corrupt. Cursed. Unworthy.
He unclenched his fists—forceful, almost painful.
Shoving his hands into his pockets,
he strode forward—each step harder than the last.
And this time—he didn't stop.
Meanwhile, Back in Ashley's Room
The door creaked open softly.
Clara stepped inside, carrying a tray of hot tea with three cups.
The faint scent of herbs filled the air—warm and comforting.
"Where is Sebastian?" Clara asked.
Ashley pretended she didn't hear.
She sat on the bed, her body heavy, her heart heavier.
Clara didn't think anything of it.
She set the tray down beside her, a gentle smile on her lips.
"Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better."
Ashley took the cup, wrapping her fingers around the warmth—
but her mind was elsewhere.
Without thinking, she asked:
"Clara… how did it feel? Falling in love with Sebastian?"
Clara blinked, surprised.
She let out a small chuckle, tilting her head.
"Why do you ask?"
Ashley didn't answer right away.
Clara studied her, then laughed softly.
"I think this fever really got to you. You never ask about love stories."
"Is it Lord Edgar?" she teased playfully.
Ashley didn't react.
Clara shifted slightly, getting comfortable.
"Well… since you're sick, I suppose I can tell you."
She smiled softly, stirring her tea before speaking.
"Falling in love with Sebastian? Hmm…"
She let out a small, nostalgic sigh.
"It wasn't like a fairy tale. It wasn't instant.
It was… quiet. Slow. But somehow, it felt inevitable."
Ashley gripped her cup a little tighter.
Clara's voice was gentle. Warm.
"At first, at our first dance, he was just there.
Just Sebastian. Nothing more, nothing less.
But then… I looked at him, and I realized—
he had always been looking at me."
Ashley swallowed hard.
She took a sip of tea,
hoping Clara wouldn't notice how unsteady her hands had become.
Clara continued.
"He always noticed the little things.
If I was cold, he'd give me his coat before I even had to ask.
If I was upset, he'd find a way to make me laugh.
He made me feel… seen."
"And I didn't even realize how much I needed that."
Ashley's chest ached.
Clara took another sip of tea,
completely unaware of the silent storm raging inside Ashley.
"And that's when I knew," she said with a soft laugh.
"Sebastian was the one."
Ashley bit the inside of her cheek.
Her cup trembled slightly in her hands.
But she didn't say a word.
She just kept listening.
Next Chapter 10: A Perfect Daughter