CHAPTER 93: CHAPTER 93 OLD FRIEND

Then, Erik suddenly stopped. His smirk faded, and his eyes darted to the side like he sensed something or someone. His jaw clenched. He stared at me for a moment longer, then scoffed under his breath.

Without saying another word, he turned around and walked away.

I stood there frozen, unable to process what just happened. I waited until his figure disappeared into the shadows before I let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. My chest rose and fell in fast, uneven gasps. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it wanted to tear through my ribs.

I wrapped my arms around myself and started walking again, this time heading back toward the mansion. My feet moved quickly, but my thoughts lagged behind. My legs felt like jelly beneath me, but I didn’t stop until I reached the stairs.

’What just happened? Why did he leave? He doesn’t seem like someone who would leave just like that. Why do I have a feeling that something terrible is going to happen?’

Something about that whole encounter didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t know if it was from the memory of what he had tried to do to me and the real Ember before... or if it was something deeper. Maybe it was just trauma, clinging to a body that remembered things I didn’t.

I touched the doorknob with a shaky hand and turned it slowly. The hallway was just as quiet as before, but now the silence made me uneasy.

When I reached the bedroom door, I pushed it open and slipped inside, locking it behind me. My breath was still shaky. I rubbed my arms and glanced around the room, half-expecting Erik to have somehow followed me. But no one was there. I was alone.

I had barely taken two steps into the room when a soft knock echoed through the door behind me.

My body froze.

Another knock followed. Still gentle, but firm enough to make me hesitate.

I stared at the door, unsure if I should open it. What if he changed his mind and came back?

But the knock came again, this time paired with a voice.

"It’s me. Ember... I just want to talk."

The voice was familiar. I couldn’t quite place it, but it didn’t sound like Erik. And It didn’t sound threatening.

I stepped closer, my heart still pounding. "Who is it?"

"It’s Mari... from the servant quarters."

’Mari.’

I blinked. That name... I remembered it. Mari had once been kind to the real Ember. She used to sneak her bread and treat her wounds, anytime she was beaten up. She was one of the few people who didn’t bully her.

I hesitated for a few seconds more, then I slowly turned the lock and opened the door, just a crack at first.

Then, from the small gap between the door and its frame. A short girl with round brown eyes, stood in front of the door, her hands wringing nervously in front of her apron.

I looked at her carefully, still unsure. ’I hope this is not a prank, right? Knowing Maddie from Ember’s memories, I know how petty she could be, if things didn’t go her way.’

But there was nothing threatening about her. She didn’t have those evil aura around her. She was just nervous.

I opened the door fully, surprised to see her standing there like a ghost from the past.

Silence ensued. As both of us stared at each other. "Ember... don’t tell me you forgot about me?" She asked, her lips pulling downward.

"How could I forget the person that had been very nice to me. Even when everyone else hurts me, you never did." I smiled at her, she kind of reminded me of Caroline and Lydia.

"Can we talk somewhere else?" She asked, returning my smile.

I bit my lower lips, ’nothing can go wrong, right?’

"Alright," I said, keeping my voice soft. "Lead the way."

Mari gave a small smile and turned around, motioning for me to follow. We walked through the hallway in silence. The light from the lanterns flickered gently on the walls, and only our footsteps echoed around us.

Night had already fallen. The air felt cooler, and most of the estate had gone quiet. And there were no guards in the halls.

Mari led me down a familiar path until we reached the kitchen. She pushed open the door, and I followed her inside. It was warm, and the faint smell of milk and butter hung in the air. The fire in the oven had already gone out, but the room still felt cozy.

"I thought it would be better to talk here," she said, walking over to one of the shelves. "No one comes here at night."

I nodded slowly. "Thank you... for this."

She gave no reply, only set down a small cloth-covered plate on the counter. I watched as she carefully pulled the fabric away, revealing a few golden pastries. They were small, round, and flaky. I could already tell they were going to taste good.

I wet my lips in anticipation. I could already imagine how they would melt in my mouth. My hands itched to shove them in my mouth.

"I made these earlier," she said, grabbing two small cups from the corner shelf. "They were supposed to be for the guards, but they didn’t want them."

Next, she reached into a low cabinet and brought out a dark glass bottle of fruit wine. She uncorked it and poured slowly.

I smiled as I sat down at the table. "You remembered I like food."

She chuckled. "I don’t think anyone could forget."

Getting the subtle go ahead. I picked up one of the pastries and took a bite. It was soft and warm, with a sweet filling I couldn’t quite place. I let out a small hum of approval and reached for another.

"You’ve improved. I don’t remember your pastries being this good," I said honestly. Well I don’t know, maybe my body was programmed to know.

Mari sat across from me and rested her hands on her lap. "Maybe I’ve just had more time to practice."

As I chewed, she placed the cup of wine gently in front of me. I reached for it without thinking, still enjoying the taste of the pastry. ’This tastes so heavenly.’ Fireworks exploded in my head.

"So... how have you been?" I asked as I wiped my fingers on a napkin.

She smiled faintly. "I’ve been alright. Things have been quiet. I stay out of trouble, do my work, and keep my head down."

I nodded, lifting the glass to my lips.

What I didn’t notice... was the glint that passed through her eyes.