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

The room was a sanctuary of oddities. Canvases leaned against every wall—portraits of people Sonia did not recognize, landscapes of places that did not exist. In the center stood a gilded chair, and upon it sat Aunt Marguerite, but transformed.

The west wing corridor was colder. The wallpaper was a faded pattern of peacocks. At the end stood a heavy oak door, slightly ajar. Golden candlelight bled through the gap.

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?”

Sonia gasped. Too loud.

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

“The moon is full in three nights, Marguerite. The veil will thin. We must decide—does the girl stay, or does she go?” Lady-Sonia 17 10 27 Secretly Spying On His Aunt...

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