By nine in the morning, the rain had passed, leaving behind its remnants.
Water droplets stubbornly clung to the curved eaves of the roof, gathering along the edges before becoming heavy enough to fall. One by one, they slipped free and dropped into the flowering garden below, disappearing among the rain-darkened petals and trembling leaves.
The air still carried the cool, clean scent of wet earth.
Sunlight filtered weakly through the thinning clouds, catching the droplets as they fell and briefly turning them into tiny shards of glass. Beyond the garden, water pooled along the stone pathways, reflecting patches of pale blue sky between drifting clouds.
It was only the second rainfall since the last of the snow had melted.
A maid stepped out of one of the guest bedrooms on the second floor, carrying a large wicker hamper filled with blankets and bedsheets.
None of them were dirty in the usual sense. They had barely been used, if at all. But in a mansion this large, unused did not mean untouched.
The Arden residence spanned three floors, with another separate building on the estate containing countless additional rooms. Keeping all of them clean was a never-ending task. Even rooms that remained empty for weeks had to be aired out, dusted, and have their bedding washed regularly.
The five bedrooms on the second floor were no exception.
Only two were currently occupied—one by the eldest daughter and the other by the youngest son.
The maid reached the staircase and stopped when she saw Livia descending from the third floor.
She lowered her head politely. "Good morning, Miss Livia."
Livia barely acknowledged her, giving the maid a dismissive glance before continuing down the stairs, her attention fixed on the phone in her hand.
The maid didn’t wait and turned toward the stairs.
As she carefully made her way down with the heavy hamper, she noticed the youngest son coming up.
He was already halfway up the staircase, so she moved slightly to the side to give him room.
"Good morning, Young Master Lucian."
The five-foot-seven teenager nodded politely in response and continued upward.
The maid glanced at him as she passed. If Lucian had been the type to speak often, he probably would have returned her greeting. But he rarely spoke unless prompted. The only exception was when he was with the eldest daughter.
The maid continued down the stairs, but after several steps, she glanced back over her shoulder.
Lucian had reached the second floor.
He had stopped.
She immediately understood why.
Livia stood a short distance away, staring at him with the corners of her lips curled upward.
The maid quickly averted her gaze and continued down the stairs, her careful pace becoming even slower.
Behind her, Livia stepped slightly to the side, blocking part of the corridor.
Lucian stiffened.
His fingers tightened around the strap of the bag hanging from his shoulder as he shifted his gaze away from her.
"Haven’t seen you for a while, brother. Where have you been?" Her voice was soft, almost pleasant.
But the deliberate way she dragged out the word brother made her intentions obvious.
Lucian remained silent.
Livia tilted her head, "What? Can’t speak?"
Then she nodded as if she had suddenly remembered something.
"Oh. You don’t speak unless your babysitter is around, right?" She crossed her arms and clicked her tongue. "Tsk. What a pity. I’m actually in the mood to have a heart-to-heart conversation with you, Lucian. What should I do now?"
Lucian shook his head and tried to walk past her.
Livia stepped directly into his path.
"What? Not in the mood?" She smiled. "Too bad. That isn’t for you to decide."
Lucian stopped.
"Now, greet your sister properly. Say good morning."
His lips pressed into a thin line, and for several seconds, he didn’t move.
Then, reluctantly, he opened his mouth, only to close it again a moment later.
Livia’s hand shot forward and closed around the back of his neck.
Lucian flinched.
"Now, I don’t have all day, okay?" she said lightly. "Come on. You don’t want Mom to come down here and find out you’re being disrespectful to your elders, do you?"
Lucian shook his head quickly. His hands clenched the fabric of his shirt as he tried to speak again, but the words caught in his throat.
"Come on."
Livia tightened her grip and pulled him toward her, forcing him to stumble forward.
"I... I’m sorry," he whispered.
His voice was barely audible.
"G-good mor-ning."
Livia smiled.
"You call that a greeting?" She leaned closer, studying his pale face.
"Lucian, did that pathetic thing never teach you how to speak properly?" Her smile disappeared."Or are you really nothing but a—" She paused beside his ear.
"A crazy freak?"
Lucian’s face went pale.
Livia straightened and looked toward the corridor.
"And Nyx?" Her lips curved again. "That bitch is the miserable existence acting as your leash."
"Livia." A female voice came from down the corridor, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps.
Livia leisurely released Lucian and turned toward the sound.
Nyx stood at the end of the corridor. Her dark green hair fell loosely around her shoulders, and the dark clothes she wore seemed almost painfully subdued against the bright morning light spilling through the tall windows.
Livia raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Nyx’s gaze moved to Lucian.
"Leave him alone."
Livia stared at her for a moment before scoffing. "You really think you’re something, don’t you?"
Nyx ignored her. She walked over to Lucian and gently pulled him toward her.
Livia’s expression darkened.
"The bastard really can’t do anything without you, can he?"
Nyx continued walking.
"He’s always hiding behind you," Livia continued. "What do you think he’s going to do when his little babysitter isn’t around?"
Nyx stopped.
"Always playing savior. Always interfering."
Nyx finally turned around.
"He isn’t a bastard." Her voice remained calm. "And you know very well why he’s like this and why I have to ’babysit’ him."
Her gaze briefly dropped to Lucian. His fingers had already caught the hem of her shirt, gripping it tightly.
Nyx looked back toward the staircase.
"Come on."
She turned and began walking with him.
Livia remained where she was, watching them. Her expression tightened.
Nyx had ignored her again.
That was what irritated her most. Nyx always did this. She stepped in, took the bastard away, and acted as though Livia wasn’t worth her attention.
By the time Nyx and Lucian reached the top of the staircase, Livia’s irritation had reached it peak.
Nyx placed one foot on the first step, then another. She never heard Livia approach.
A sudden force slammed into her back.
Nyx’s eyes widened as her foot slipped from the edge of the marble step. She reached instinctively for the railing, but her fingers closed around nothing.
"Nyx!"
Lucian lunged forward. His fingertips brushed the fabric of her sleeve but failed to catch her.
Nyx’s body tipped forward. She fell, and her arm struck the sharp edge of the marble stair with a sickening crack.
Pain exploded through her body. She tumbled down the remaining steps before hitting the floor at the bottom with a heavy thud.
...
What did it feel like for a body to disintegrate?
For Nyx, there had been no single moment of death. There had been pain first, followed by cold, and then something far worse.
She had felt her body coming apart from the inside, every cell losing its structure as the decaying energy consumed it. Her bones had become weightless, and her blood had seemed to evaporate beneath her skin. Even the sensation of breathing had disappeared as her lungs collapsed into nothing.
She hadn’t tried to hold on. There had been nothing left to hold on to.
Her fingers had turned to ash, followed by her arms, her chest, and her face, until even the sensation of having a body had ceased to exist. There had been no flesh left, no bones, and no blood. Only fragments of her soul remained, suspended within the darkness and pulled apart by forces she could neither understand nor resist.
If there was one thing Nyx could call a silver lining, it was that she had not been the only one to meet that end.
Beep. Beep. Beep.