Chapter 2: The Twilight Secret

The low chime of a pendulum clock reverberated through the halls of the mansion. As I stood there and listened to it, I reflected on how insensitive I had been. Since the prince and I confessed our feelings, every day had been so enjoyable. I never gave any thought to the repercussions our union would have on those around me. It was obvious my new title would change things for the rest of my family, once I thought about it, but that made me feel all the more shallow for not realizing it sooner.

As I sighed to myself, the old man chuckled quietly. “It must be nice being so young and having so many worries.”

“Is having worries something to be envious of?” I asked, doubtful.

“When you get old like me, you don’t have worries so much as you have a mountain of regrets. Facing these trials and struggling to overcome them is a special privilege for the young. Enjoy it while you can.”

I fixed my gaze on the old man, perplexed by his view.

“Well,” he said, changing the subject as he ushered me toward the door, “since you don’t seem to have any interest in the portraits, why don’t I give you a tour of the mansion instead?”

He led me to some of the famous places listed in A Hundreds Tales of Mystery in the Capital. There was a mirror, where the deceased owner’s reflection was said to reappear at night. Next was a haunted banister. It was said that when you touched it, you would feel the cold, heavy weight of another hand clasping yours. After that was a wardrobe, where the deceased owner’s favorite dress was said to materialize out of nowhere. There was also a room with an empty birdcage. Here, it was said the former owner’s voice could be heard singing together with her bird. The old man explained each area to me one by one before we arrived at a window on the second story, one overlooking a garden that hadn’t been tended to for some time.

“They say you can find the lady’s spirit lingering in front of that window over there when the sun begins to set.”

I glanced through the glass. Rain was still pouring down outside.

There was a brief lull in our conversation, as if the old man was lost in thought, but he soon recovered and asked, “Why do you think she picks that window? There are so many others in the house. What do you think makes that one special?”

“Huh?” I asked, taken aback by his sudden query. After a momentary pause and some brief contemplation, I said, “I assume she must have enjoyed the view?”

“Indeed.” He smiled sadly. “A window is a way to enjoy the scenery, but it is also a place where one tends to wait when they’re anticipating someone’s return. Young Miss, have you heard the stories about the lady of this manor?”

My chest throbbed at the mention. “Yes, I have.”

The lady of this manor had suffered a tragic past. At one point, she was regarded as the flower of high society for her beauty, but she was later roped into a political marriage with a fellow noble. The man in question was unfaithful; he kept a lover on the side and even had children with her. Such stories weren’t altogether unheard of among the aristocracy. Nonetheless, the lady still waited longingly for her husband’s return each day. Her beauty began to fade with the passage of time, but even as she aged in solitude, she would still wait at the window as the sun set each day. That was what earned this place the name of Twilight Manor.

The old man nodded, turning his gaze toward the window. “All the strange phenomena that happen in this manor should be terrifying, and yet they also act as subtle reminders of the woman that once graced these halls. Perhaps it’s proof that there was someone who thought fondly of her as well.” His voice was so soothing that I found myself nodding along as I stared out at the rain.

I wondered if you could see the main gate from this window. Maybe that was why she waited here, hoping to see her beloved as he rode up. I could almost picture her.

As the old man and I lost ourselves in our imaginations, a voice called up from the floor below.

“Miss Eli, where are you?” It was Lilia.

I peered over the railing and responded, “Lilia? Julia?” I kept my eyes on them and started moving toward the stairs, not noticing there was a flower vase in front of me until it was too late. Fortunately, it was heavy enough that me brushing up against it didn’t even make it wobble. However, the dried-up flowers inside instantly turned to dust, sprinkling down over my two cousins.

“Eek!” they screamed.

I scrambled down the stairs to check on them. The whole situation reminded me of another spirit I had read about in A Hundred Tales of Mystery in the Capital—the Sand-throwing Hag.

“Julia, Lilia! I am so sorry. Are you both all right?”

After brushing off the dust from the dried flowers, Lilia grumbled, “I can’t believe you! Look, I understand you might find it scary being mistaken as a fellow spirit by the other ghostly inhabitants here, but that doesn’t mean you get to scare us to death just so we’ll join you!”

You seem to have some really odd ideas about me, Cousin, so I think perhaps we ought to have a talk so we can clear those up.

As I helped them dust off their clothes, Julia turned to me with a guilty look on her face and said, “Eli, I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” I froze as our gazes met. Her brown eyes were filled with regret.

“Four years ago when you returned to the capital, I was incredibly ill due to an imbalance in my body. You were the one who found medicine to help me. It was thanks to your efforts that I could start casually engaging in and enjoying high society. Likewise, I wouldn’t have met Lord Rupert if not for you. I can’t believe how ungrateful I was, taking all my emotions out on you like that.”

I quickly shook my head. “No, I owe you an apology as well. I didn’t even realize there was anything bothering you. I should have known what kind of pressure it would put on the rest of you when I got engaged. So I’m sorry, too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one at fault. It was just like you said, I should ask Lord Rupert directly.”

“But it does require a great amount of courage to ask someone you care about to disclose their secrets. I was being arrogant when I—”

“Not at all,” she interrupted. The two of us stared at one another, and after a moment, we erupted into laughter. Lilia soon began giggling along with us.

Julia and I flashed embarrassed smiles at one another. Having regained my composure, I extended a hand toward her as a sign that I wanted to put this disagreement behind us.

“Eli, I love you,” she said.

The words were so direct that my cheeks warmed, but I was happy to have her affection. “I love you too, Julia. And I especially love how sincere you are.”

“Oh my,” Lilia chirped as she joined the conversation. “Well, I love both of you! Julia, for always seeming so composed even though she’s secretly holding it all in until she can’t take anymore and explodes, and Eli, for being so easily mistaken as a ghost simply because she spaces out and stands in the shadows all the time.”

That’s not half the compliment you seem to think it is, Lilia.

Inside the dimly lit manor, the three of us beamed at one another.

The old man’s soft voice cut in. “It appears you girls don’t need to know the secrets behind the portraits anymore.”

Julia nodded, firm in her determination. “No, I don’t need to see whose portrait he brought. I realize now that keeping my anxiety all to myself won’t solve anything. This is the man I’ve decided I want to spend the rest of my life with. Whatever his situation is, I need to hear it from his lips.”

Given her straightforward personality, it was the perfect answer.

Warmed by her resolve, I squeezed her hand tightly, hoping to encourage her. She glanced back at me and smiled.

“That’s good to hear,” mumbled the old man. “Nothing good comes from revealing the secrets that people keep. When someone exposes the mistakes you made in your youth, the person who will be hurt the most is the one you hold dearest. It can lead to a spiral of misunderstandings. And then no amount of apologies will ever be enough to mend the bridges burned.” He paused. “What’s most important is that you’re honest when you convey your feelings.”

Especially if you want to be with that person forever, his words seem to imply.

The three of us listened to his advice, filled with emotion. No sooner had he finished than the pendulum clock began to chime, the volume so earsplitting that it sent vibrations through the manor. Julia shrieked, throwing her arms around me. Lilia clamped her hands over her ears and shrank in on herself. I stiffened and waited for it to end. By the time it was over and I lifted my face, the old man was gone.

“Oh?” As I glanced around, we heard a crashing noise.

Lilia gulped and started clinging to me as well. Between her and Julia, I was locked firmly in place.

If you two would kindly unhand me, I’d like to check out the source of this disturbance.

“Miss Eli! What are we going to do if a real ghost does suddenly pop out?!”

This coming from the girl who has been calling me a ghost this entire time. Honestly, Lilia...

After all the commotion, someone’s voice echoed. It seemed to be coming from the portrait room the old man had first guided us to. After reassuring my two cousins, we started heading toward the source. I explained to Lilia and Julia that there were no stories about talking portraits so they needn’t worry about that, and as we swung the door open, all sound inside stopped.

I hadn’t paid any mind to it earlier, but the room was rather eerie with its poor lighting and the rows of portraits everywhere. No wonder my cousins were so unsettled.

Right as I plucked up my courage and stepped inside, one of the paintings smiled at us and began to speak. “I found you.” The person inside the frame had lips painted red with what looked to be blood.

Lilia and Julia screeched at the top of their lungs before flying out of the room. I was left behind, stiff as a statue.

The young man in the portrait gaped in shock at our reaction. “I can’t believe...those girls looked at me...and screamed in terror.” After a brief pause and with his face contorted in despair, he added, “It’s me...Alan.” His voice was stiff and unnatural, and as he stepped closer, I stared back at him, wide-eyed.

Jean popped out from beside him. “Ah, there you are, m’lady. You really are a troublemaker. Please don’t go disappearin’ off like that. I was almost shakin’ in my boots thinkin’ about the murderous rage the demon lord would be in once he heard.”

Pardon?

Confused as to what he was referring to, I could only blink back at him. That was when I realized—the thing I’d thought was a picture frame around Lord Alan was actually the edges of a window frame.

Jean pointed at Lord Alan’s lips. “You’re bleedin’.”

“Ah, I was struggling with the window and busted my lip on it when it finally came free.”