The woman broke the silence.

“Do you know whose room this is?”

Evandria looked at her but did not answer.

“This is the room of my lord and his first wife.

“He did not kill her,”

“as the rumors claim. More importantly… do you want to know who she is?”

Without waiting for a reply, the woman reached into the darkness and picked up a portrait resting on a table. She handed it to Evandria.

Evandria brought the portrait into the moonlight.

The moment her eyes fell upon it, her breath hitched. Her eyes widened, her chest tightening as her breathing grew heavy.

“I–it’s… i-impossible,” she whispered. 

“She is my elder sister.”

“Yes,” the woman said quietly. “She is your elder sister — the first daughter of House Gravewood.”

Evandria’s hands trembled.

“But I heard my sister died years ago, when I was in my final year at the academy. Then how is her portrait here? h-how...?

“As I told you,” the servant replied, “she was my lord’s wife. And he loved her more than anyone else.”

Evandria’s heart shattered with every word.

“My lord is not the one who killed her,” the woman continued. “The ones who killed her… were none other than the Gravewoods.”

Tears began to fall from Evandria’s eyes, though she did not realize when she had started crying. She stood frozen, unable to comprehend what she was seeing and hearing.

The sister who had loved her dearly.

The sister she had always admired with pride and respect.

She was the first wife of her husband.

And the ones who killed her… were her own family.

Evandria remained there, drowning in questions she could not yet answer.

Why did Elion never tell me the truth about my sister?

And why did my family kill her?

Why did he marry me?

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