The carriage slowed.
Then
it stopped.
Elowen lifted her head, blinking sleep from her eyes. For a moment, she sat still, her fingers curled loosely in Pippin's fur.
"…Are we here?" she whispered.
[Affirmative.]
Her heart gave a small, nervous thump.
Slowly, she leaned toward the window—
and froze.
"…Whoa…"
The gates alone were enormous.
Tall iron bars stretched high into the sky, lined with elegant, swirling patterns that caught the sunlight like dark lace. Beyond them lay a world she had never imagined—endless gardens trimmed to perfection, wide stone paths, sparkling fountains, and rows upon rows of trees that seemed too perfectly placed to be real.
And in the distance—
Elowen's breath caught.
The mansion.
It rose like something out of a storybook—grand, towering, and impossibly beautiful. White stone walls gleamed under the sun, tall windows reflecting the sky like mirrors, and elegant pillars framed the entrance like silent guardians.
"It's… so big…" she whispered.
For a moment—
just a moment—
she forgot to be afraid.
The carriage door opened.
Elowen flinched slightly, pulling back from the window.
Voices drifted in from outside—polite, respectful.
"The Duke has returned."
She peeked out carefully.
Her father had already stepped out.
He stood tall, composed, as servants gathered before him in neat lines, bowing their heads in perfect unison.
"Welcome back, Your Grace."
He didn't respond.
Didn't even glance toward the carriage behind him.
Without a word—
he walked past them.
And into the mansion.
Elowen blinked.
"…He left…"
Her chest tightened slightly.
She didn't know why she expected anything else.
A shadow fell over the doorway.
"Elowen," a familiar deep voice said.
She looked up.
It was the guard.
The scary one.
"…Oh."
He crouched slightly, his movements careful.
"May I assist you down, young miss?"
Elowen hesitated.
Then nodded slowly.
"…Okay."
She held onto Pippin tightly as he gently lifted her from the carriage, placing her carefully onto the ground.
The moment her feet touched the stone path—
everything felt… different.
Too clean.
Too quiet.
Too perfect.
She looked around, her small form dwarfed by the vastness of the estate.
"…It's really big…" she murmured again.
"Yes," the guard replied.
Before she could say anything else—
a sharp sound of heels clicking against stone echoed nearby.
Elowen turned.
A woman approached.
Tall.
Elegant.
Perfectly composed.
Her uniform was immaculate, her posture straight, her expression—
cold.
Very cold.
"Elowen Evercrest," the woman said, her voice crisp and formal.
Elowen stiffened slightly.
"…Y-Yes…"
The woman stopped in front of her, her sharp gaze scanning her from head to toe.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
But critically.
As if she were inspecting something… disappointing.
"I am the head maid of this estate," she continued.
Elowen shifted slightly under her gaze, clutching Pippin closer.
"…Hello…"
The woman's eyes lingered on her simple dress, the faint dirt at the hem, the way she held the pig.
Something flickered in her expression.
Disapproval.
No—
something closer to disgust.
"…I see," the head maid said flatly.
Elowen's fingers tightened.
"…Did I do something wrong…?" she asked softly.
The woman did not answer directly.
Instead, she turned slightly, gesturing toward the mansion.
"Follow me."
Her tone left no room for refusal.
Elowen hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then she glanced back at the guard.
He gave her a small, almost reassuring nod.
"…Okay," she whispered.
She took a step forward.
Then another.
The grand doors of the estate loomed ahead, opening slowly as servants pulled them apart.
Elowen paused at the entrance.
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest.
Behind her was everything she had ever known.
Ahead—
was something else entirely.
Cold.
Beautiful.
Unfamiliar.
She tightened her hold on Pippin and stepped inside.
And just like that her new life began.