I speared a piece of steak with unnecessary force, meeting his gaze. "I’m not hungry. The atmosphere here is… unappetizing."
A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but he said nothing.
"This war between our families," I began, breaking the silence. "What do you really want out of it, Nathaniel?"
He set down his glass with deliberate slowness, leaning back in his chair. "And what makes you think I’ll give you an honest answer, Tiffany?"
My chest tightened with frustration. Every word with him was a chess move, every look a feint.
"Maybe I’m tired of the games," I said.
His laugh was low and humorless. "Games? This isn’t a game, Tiffany. It’s survival."
His words struck a chord, though I refused to show it.
"Then tell me why you hate my family so much," I demanded, my voice rising.
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might answer. But then he shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
"Some truths are better left buried," he said.
That night, sleep eluded me. The west wing loomed in my mind like a taunt, its secrets daring me to uncover them.
The house was silent as I slipped out of my room, my bare feet padding softly against the cold marble floors. Every creak of the old wood seemed deafening, every shadow a lurking phantom.
The door to the west wing was heavier than I expected. My fingers trembled as I pushed it open, the hinges groaning in protest.
Inside, the air was thicker, as though it hadn’t been disturbed in years. Dust danced in the moonlight streaming through cracked windows.
A large, ornate mirror dominated the far wall, its gilded frame tarnished with age. My reflection stared back at me, pale and wide-eyed.
"You shouldn’t be here."
The voice made me whirl around, my heart leaping to my throat. Nathaniel stood in the doorway, his face a mask of fury and something else—panic.
"What are you hiding, Nathaniel?" I demanded, my voice shaking.
He strode forward, grabbing my arm. His grip was firm but not painful. "This isn’t a game, Tiffany. Get out. Now."
"Not until you tell me the truth!" I shot back.
His eyes burned with a mix of anger and desperation. "If you don’t leave, you’ll regret it."
My breath caught as I noticed a faint glimmer behind the mirror, like a light flickering to life.
"What’s behind there?" I whispered.
Nathaniel’s grip tightened for a moment before he let go, his expression hardening.