Leticia turned to him, a determined glint in her eye. "Brother, you promised you wouldn’t ask questions."

Raphael sighed, his expression softening with resignation. “Fine, as you wish.”

Leticia flashed him a faint, grateful smile, then turned back to the surroundings, scanning the quiet road and shadowed corners of the marketplace. Her gaze fell on the bridge, then drifted to the empty stalls and cobblestone streets, bathed in the soft, ghostly glow of moonlight. 

It’s the same place, she thought, her heart beating faster with each step. The place where Lyria found the divine egg.

She took a few more steps. Her mind swirled with memories, each one pressing in on her more intensely than the last.

“But… where?” she whispered to herself, scanning the ground, the shadows, the bridge’s stone arches. Her eyes traced every crack, every crevice, hoping for some sign, some memory of where she can get the hint.

Raphael’s gaze shifted back and forth between the silent market and his sister, his curiosity sharpening with each passing moment. Leticia was utterly focused, her eyes tracing over the stones and the bridge as though she were following an invisible trail only she could see. Her steps were slow, deliberate, as though one misstep could shatter the fragile silence around them.

“What is she looking for?” he murmured, watching her closely, a furrow forming on his brow. 

Leticia’s expression was intense, almost haunted, as if she were reliving a memory he couldn’t see. His curiosity grew sharper, mingling with a strange protectiveness. 

What could be so important that you had to sneak out alone at midnight?

Raphael’s mind drifted, his memories blurring with the shadows around them as he watched Leticia, so determined and intense. A pang of emotion stirred in his chest.

                                                                                            ***

Raphael's Flashback Begins,

My little sister, Leticia... my one and only precious. Raphael’s thoughts drifted, pulling him back to the memory that was both vivid and blurred by time.

I remember the day Leticia was born. A day that was supposed to bring joy but ended in sorrow. I was only eight then and brother was just twelve. That day My mother, our mother, layed still and pale on the bed, her hand growing cold in my father's trembling grasp. I had never seen him cry before—my father, the unbreakable Duke, breaking down as he held her lifeless form, whispering her name like a prayer he knew would never be answered.

The reason was clear: a premature birth.  The little life that had arrived early had taken our mother from us. The child had taken away the light from our lives.

So, we blamed her, the tiny, fragile life who had taken our mother from us. we resented her and never wanted to see her. Even father never looked at her. She was a shadow, a painful reminder of all we had lost, a child that none of them wanted to see or love.

But Later everything changed.

I clearly recall that day, when we returned back to that empty mansion after our mother's funeral, our nanny approached us, carrying little leticia on her arms, her gaze was stern and unyeliding.

“Duke, are you not going to at least take a glance at her?” she had asked. 

Fathe was silent and walked past the nanny saying, "She took my wife away. I don't even want to glance at her."

But then Leticia’s cry rang out—a piercing, heart-wrenching sound that filled the room and pulled our father back. She was crying, almost as if she understood what our father said. As if she could feel the wall of rejection.

"How's that her fault that we lost our duchess? Please duke... please just take a look at her. I beg you... please..." nanny said her voice almost choked with emotions.

And it was the moment when our father looked at Letcia. The very First time. And as the moment our father looked at her, she stopped crying, and started giggling, as if she were reaching out to him with all the innocence in the world. It was like she’d been waiting for that moment, hoping that someone would see her, accept her.

"Do you want to hold her?" Nanny asked softly, her voice cutting through the tense silence.

Father’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could respond, Nanny gently placed Leticia in his arms. She was so small, fragile, yet somehow peaceful, her tiny face breaking into the faintest of smiles.

I remember that moment clearly—Father stood there, stunned, his gaze fixed on her as if he were seeing something he couldn’t fully comprehend. Slowly, he sank down onto the stairs, holding her close. And then, as if a dam had broken inside him, he began to cry, clutching her tiny form to his chest, his head lowered as he whispered over and over, “I’m sorry... I am so sorry…”

In that moment, everything changed. We saw her, really saw her for the first time, and the sight was striking. She looked exactly like our dear mother, the woman we had lost and missed so deeply. She was a piece of her, given back to us, a new light in the emptiness that would never fade.

And there, without a word, we all made a silent vow to ourselves. We would protect her, cherish her, and love her with everything we had.

 Everything seemed perfect. Leticia grew up into a bright, joyful young woman. She was full of life, her laughter echoing through the estate. And then, the day she was engaged to Adarain, everything felt like it was finally falling into place. She was truly happy, her smile like sunlight breaking through clouds. She was floating, soaring in a cloud of joy, as if nothing could ever harm her.

But happiness, as we all know, is fragile. It's a delicate shell that could shatter with the slightest crack, and none of us realized just how fragile her happiness was. Suddenly, Leticia changed. It was subtle at first, a slight shift in her demeanor, but we could all feel it. The light that once shone so brightly in her had dimmed, and we soon realized the cause: Lyria.

We all watched as Lyria trying to take Leticia's place. At first, we thought it was just harmless competition, nothing to worry about. But we were wrong. We never imagined that the situation would unravel in such a way, that Leticia would change so drastically. 

The transformation was jarring—her joy turned to bitterness, her warmth to coldness. She began to pull away from us, pushing us out of her life as Lyria stepped closer, weaving herself into the space we had once shared. We tried to explain to Leticia that she was wrong, that no one could ever replace her, but it felt like we were talking to a wall. She wouldn't listen. She refused to see us, to hear us. 

Father, brother, and I—devastated, helpless—we watched as Leticia started cutting ties with us, ignoring us completely. We tried to reach her, but it was as if she were slipping through our fingers. No matter how hard we tried, the distance between us only grew.

I lost all hope. 

The pain of watching my sister drift away, seeing her turn her back on the people who had always loved her—it broke something in me. But Father and Brother, they never gave up. They held onto that hope, clinging to the belief that one day, things would change.

And then, like a light in the darkness, she came back to us. 

It was at lunch. We hadn’t expected it, hadn’t even dared to dream it. But there she was, standing before us once again. 

Leticia. 

She was back. 

Her eyes weren’t as bright as they used to be, but she was here. And for the first time in so long, there was a flicker of the sister we had once known. The walls she had built around herself were still there, but they weren’t as strong. There was a crack in them, and that was all we needed. 

We held onto that crack, that tiny glimmer of hope, and maybe—just maybe—it was enough to bring her back.

And in that moment, a silent vow was made once again. A vow that no matter how many times she pulled away, no matter how much she tried to shut us out, we would never stop fighting for her. We would never let her slip away again.

We promised ourselves again that we would be there for her, through every storm, every moment of doubt, and every challenge that came her way.

No more silence. 

No more distance. 

And this time, no matter what, we would not let her go. Not again.

                                                                                                     ***

Back to the present.

The moonlight shimmered on the water beneath the bridge, casting an ethereal glow. Raphael stood silently beside his sister, his gaze fixed on her. There was a quiet pride in his eyes as he watched her, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. 

Leticia stood on the edge, her eyes scanning the darkness around her, murmuring softly to herself. 

"This is the same place... Lyria stood here holding that divine egg," she whispered, her voice trailing off as her thoughts raced. 

She looked around, confusion flickering in her gaze. Exactly... what am I missing?

Her eyes drifted upward to the sky, the silver light of the moon reflecting off the water’s surface. The water glistened even brighter, almost unnaturally so, as if it was holding a secret beneath its depths. That’s when it hit her.

Lyria was drenched. she clearly heard the rumours that time, saying she was fallen in water that day.

Her heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. She turned toward the bridge's edge and peered down at the water below, her voice barely audible as she muttered to herself. 

"That's it… I found it."

Raphael, watching her closely, noticed her curiosity. His gaze followed hers, and he looked down at the water with a questioning expression. 

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty but also a spark of hope.

Leticia turned to him, her face lighting up with a smile that was pure and unrestrained. "Yes," She nodded eagerly, her excitement palpable in the air between them.

But before she could say another word, a voice—smooth and authoritative—cut through the silence of the night. 

"What could the Drakemorne siblings be doing out here at midnight?"

They both turned in unison, their eyes widening in surprise as they saw the figure standing behind them. Crown Prince Kael, draped in a black robe, stood at the entrance of the bridge, his posture regal yet casual, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Crown Prince Kael," Leticia mumbled.