Her silver-streaked hair was unbound, cascading past her waist. She wore a gown of liquid crimson, embroidered with constellations. In her lap lay a leather-bound book, its pages glowing faintly, and her lips moved in a language that sounded like rain falling on glass.
The west wing corridor was colder. The wallpaper was a faded pattern of peacocks. At the end stood a heavy oak door, slightly ajar. Golden candlelight bled through the gap.
Aunt Marguerite only poured the tea, and her hand did not tremble.
Then Sonia saw the second figure.
“Well, well,” he whispered. “Lady-Sonia. Seventeen years, ten months, twenty-seven days. Right on time.”
Sonia’s blood turned to ice. The girl. She meant her.
Sonia stumbled backward, but the floor had become a mirror, reflecting not her terrified face, but the face of a woman in a crimson gown holding a glowing book. Lady-Sonia 17 10 27 Secretly Spying On His Aunt...
Sonia gasped. Too loud.
At 11:47 PM, she slipped from her guest room. She wore a dark velvet dress that blended with the shadows. Her heart hammered against her ribs—not from fear, but from the thrill of discovery. She was no longer a girl; she was a spy.
The Velvet Veil
A man stood at the window, his back to the door. He was tall, dressed in a coat the color of midnight, and he did not cast a reflection in the mirror beside him. When he spoke, his voice was like distant thunder.
For three days, Sonia had heard the sounds: a low, melodic humming at midnight, the click of a latch, and the soft brush of silk against stone floors. Her aunt would disappear for hours, returning to breakfast with flushed cheeks and dreamy eyes, refusing to say where she had been.
“Curiosity killed the cat, little dove,” Marguerite had warned, tapping Sonia’s nose with a feather quill. Her silver-streaked hair was unbound, cascading past her
Lady-Sonia checked her appearance one last time. At seventeen, ten months, and twenty-seven days old, she considered herself an adult trapped in a girl’s body. Her mother, the Dowager Viscountess, disagreed, which is why Sonia had been sent to stay with her eccentric Aunt Marguerite for the summer.