Chapter 11: Echoes of Silence
Aurenya's POV
It was later in the evening, and the last of the golden light had long since faded beyond the horizon. The manor was cloaked in twilight stillness, save for the occasional creak of old wood or the echo of footsteps in distant halls. We had returned from the fitting hours ago—Elara had chattered on about lacing and fabrics, the way the tailor pinched seams like he was squeezing secrets from silk. But I'd hardly heard her.
I'd been distracted. Hollowed out by the weight of something I couldn't name.
The manor's silence was different tonight—thicker, as if the walls themselves were bracing for something unspeakable. Candlelight flickered along the edges of the tall windows, casting elongated shadows that seemed to whisper secrets I couldn't quite grasp.
I sat at my writing desk, the parchment before me untouched. My quill hovered, ink dripping like blood onto the pristine page. Thoughts of Aunt Liora's clandestine meeting in the Shadow Woods plagued me. The image of her burning that mysterious bundle replayed in my mind, each iteration more ominous than the last. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw smoke curling upward, a strange violet hue in the flames, and the way her eyes gleamed like something unholy whispered through her veins.
A soft knock interrupted my reverie.
"Enter," I called, my voice steadier than I felt.
Elara stepped in, her face pale, eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief. She held a small, ornate box, its crimson ribbon stark against the dark wood.
"This just arrived for you," she whispered, placing it gently on the desk.
I stared at it, my heart pounding. The box was unassuming, yet it radiated a malevolence that made my skin crawl.
"Who delivered it?" I asked.
"No one saw. It was just... there, on the doorstep."
I reached out, fingers trembling, and untied the ribbon. The lid creaked open, revealing a single object nestled within black velvet.
A severed ear.
I recoiled, bile rising in my throat. The ear was fresh, the edges jagged, blood still seeping from the wound.
A note lay beneath it, the handwriting elegant and unfamiliar.
"Silence the whispers, or more will follow."
Elara gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.
"It's Tyren," I murmured, recognizing the small silver hoop he always wore.
The room spun. Tyren—the spy I'd entrusted to uncover Aunt Liora's secrets—was gone. And this was his grim epitaph. I needed to speak to Aunt Liora.
---
I found her in the east study, lit only by a single candelabra and the glow of the hearth. Aunt Liora didn't look surprised to see me. She didn't even look up from her book.
"I sent Tyren to follow you," I said.
Silence.
Her finger paused on the page, then she closed the book with a soft thud. She met my eyes, impassive.
"I figured," she said. "You've been watching me watch you for weeks."
"I had to know what you were hiding."
"And what did your little errand boy discover?"
I swallowed. "He hasn't returned."
That got her attention. Her brows creased, just slightly.
"I don't know where he is," I added. "And I'm starting to think… someone made sure I wouldn't find out."
She stood then. Slowly. The firelight caught the glint in her eyes. "So you used a boy to skulk through shadows like a thief."
"I needed answers," I said. "And I trusted him."
She stepped closer. "You don't trust me?"
I looked her straight in the eye. "No."
Her jaw flexed. For a moment, I thought she might slap me.
Then she smiled. Cold. "Be careful, Aurenya. Spying on people tends to get them killed."
---
A sharp knock jolted me from my thoughts.
Not the hesitant knock of a maid. This one was urgent.
I crossed the room and opened the door to find a breathless young guard standing there, pale as death.
"My lady," he rasped. "We found a body… in the stables."
My stomach dropped. "Who?"
He swallowed hard. "A man. Torn apart. Unrecognizable, mostly. But… the silver earring matched what some of the servants recall of your… companion."
No. No, no, no.
I didn't remember stumbling down the corridor. I didn't remember reaching the stables. But suddenly, I was there.
The reek of blood and rotting hay smothered the air. Guards formed a semi-circle around the twisted heap near the far stall, whispering. Someone tried to block my path, but I brushed past them.
There, sprawled like discarded meat, was what was left of Tyren.
His eyes were missing. His chest carved open as though clawed. But the earring—still pierced through the flap of what remained of his right ear—gleamed beneath the flickering torchlight.
I fell to my knees, the shock stealing my breath.
Not even a whisper in the world could explain this.
---
Aunt Liora arrived minutes later, robes trailing behind her like the shadow of a predator.
Her eyes locked onto the body. Then, sharply, onto me.
"This is what your recklessness brings," she said, voice like flint. "You used him without permission, and now you've lost him."
I stood shakily. "You said you didn't know anything."
"I don't," she snapped. "But I warned you, didn't I? You think this world is a game. That you can poke at secrets and not bleed for them."
"I think you're lying," I hissed.
Her expression hardened. "Then enjoy what happens next."
She turned on her heel and stormed from the stable.
I watched her go, bile rising in my throat.
I didn't believe her.
---
Seraphine was humming the next morning. Cheerful again.
She greeted me with a plate of berry scones, smiling as if nothing had ever touched the darkness. She giggled when a piece of jam stuck to her lip, eyes bright, almost childlike.
"You're quiet," she said, tilting her head. "Did something happen?"
I looked at her—really looked. The nightmare she'd lived through hadn't left a trace. No tremble. No haunted stares.
Just a bright, sunny mask.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I smiled. "Just tired."
"Oh," she said. "Well, you should rest. You've been so… busy lately."
She twirled away before I could respond.
Something was wrong. She wasn't herself. Or worse—maybe she was exactly who they wanted her to be.