Everyone stood up around Rhistel to congratulate him. The girl’s had to follow too. Evelyn stood beside her parents with a forced smile on her face.
Olivia stood slowly, drawing minimal attention as she moved behind Evelyn under the guise of heading to the servant for more wine. Her fingers, hidden in the folds of her sleeve, twitched, tracing the silent sigils into the palm of her hand.
"Whisper the mory... whisper it loose. Connect our souls so that I can see it too."
The spell wasn’t flashy. No bursts of light or dramatic signs. It simply slipped, like a soft wind brushing past Evelyn’s neck.
Evelyn flinched, blinking rapidly.
Her gaze clouded for a second. Then it sharpened too fast.
She turned, almost catching Olivia’s wrist. "Did you just—?"
"Are you alright?" Olivia asked smoothly with a concerned voice "You looked pale for a mont."
But Evelyn’s face was changing. She gripped the edge of the table, her pupils dilating. Whispers filled her ears and images of the past she had buried long ago started to fill her mind at once.
A woman with red hair standing alone on the Bloodsoaked ground. her voice shouting words in a language she no longer rembered. And evelyn stood at the distance as a child watching with wide, dark eyes.
Evelyn gasped and staggered, knocking a chair back as she tried to hold balance.
All attention turned toward her. She noticed the questions in their eyes and her father’s eyes getting colder.
"I... I need so air," she stamred. Her face was pale, hands trembling. She didn’t even wait for permission. She just fled the hall, skirts trailing behind her like a shadow.
Olivia sat back down slowly. Rhistel raised his glass again, covering the disruption with ease.
"Ah, wine is stronger than expected tonight," he joked, eliciting nervous laughter from a few nobles. But Olivia’s heart thundered.
Because in that fleeting mont when her spell connected, she saw it too. The woman standing in the blood soaked ground was young, but she was sure it was her mother.
"Olivia.." Oriana paused when Rhistel called for her. She stared at her pale-faced sister too. "You need so air too?" Olivia nodded and left the hall hurriedly making Oriana frown. How did Rhistel know Olivia was suffocated? Was he watching her all this ti in the crowd?
Resentnt grew in her chest even when she tried to hide it.
Outside, the cold bit through Olivia’s sleeves as she stepped onto the terrace, the snow crunching softly beneath her shoes. Evelyn stood near the railing, gripping the stone tightly, with her back covered in cold sweat. Her breathing was uneven.
"Evelyn," Olivia called softly, feigning concern. "Are you alright? You left so suddenly—"
"Don’t," Evelyn hissed, not turning around. "Don’t pretend."
Olivia stopped, her posture still composed, but her senses sharpening like blades. "Pretend what? I am here to help you."
Evelyn turned then, her eyes red and shining with restrained fury. "You used magic on . And do not try to deny it, because I know. It is just like that night when your mother was killed!"
The words sliced the quiet air between them. Olivia felt the blood drained from her body. Her mother was killed! No! She had died a natural death. Because of sickness and hunger after the death of her father.. Her heart stirred so badly that it was hard to breathe.
Olivia blinked slowly, feigning innocence. "Magic? That’s quite an accusation."
"I felt it. I rembered." Evelyn stepped closer, her voice a whisper laced with venom. "You’re a witch, Just like her. I will make sure that you will be killed too."
"You don’t even know who she was," Olivia said quietly, trying to keep her tone from trembling. "No one does."
"You must have t soone different. I am sure many had red hair. My mother died when I was there. She was sick and weak and..."
"And... you think everyone is a fool! I can call them and they will prove you a witch this instant but they asked to wait!"
"Who are they?" Olivia insisted as she walked closer. If only she had learned more spells when she had the ti, a spell that could force Evelyn to speak truth. For now, she could only use ignorance to bring more truth out of her. "I think you are just hallucinating, my lady. Should I call for help?"
"Oh, you understand it very well.," Evelyn cut in, her eyes narrowing. "You think you are clever, hiding here like so precious little daughter of nobility, playing servant to Rhistel’s bride. But you’re not alone, Olivia. Others rember too. Others will co."
"Who?" Olivia demanded, stepping closer now, her voice low and urgent. "Who are you talking about?"
But before Evelyn could answer, the heavy sound of boots crunching snow echoed across the stone. Lord Cloindire, Evelyn’s father, erged from the shadows of the archway. His gaze was cold, piercing, and unmistakably full of warning.
"My lord, I was just helping the lady. She is not feeling well." Olivia smiled softly but the man looked too cold to reply
"Lady Olivia," he said curtly. "I believe my daughter is not comfortable in your presence. I will help you. You can return to the party. Your sister must be waiting for you."
Olivia straightened at once. She bowed her head politely, though the muscles in her back were taut. "Of course, Lord Gretham. Forgive ."
His stare lingered on her back making a hole there.
Olivia stepped back, her spine stiff as she moved past him. Evelyn didn’t et her eyes again, but Olivia could feel the triumph radiating off her.
"But I must say, my lord. Your daughter had a wild imagination. I am worried that she would fall into trouble if this continued." the lord tensed and glared at his daughter before smiling at her. "I will make sure that my daughter only speaks the truth in the future, Lady Olivia. May you have a good dream tonight."
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