The view from her bedroom balcony was quite remarkable. She leaned back against the balcony railing, and stared up at the sky. The stars were particularly bright tonight, she thought. And they were quite beautiful.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she muttered under her breath. Dylan traced patterns in the stars with her fingers. "I wonder what it's like up there."

"Milady, here," Mina said. She shook open a woollen blanket, then draped it over Dylan's shoulders. "The night air is quite chilly, so please stay warm."

"Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?" Dylan hugged the blanket tighter around her, and smiled. A pure smile without any shadows, any ulterior motive hidden behind it. "I don't know what I would do without you." 

The maid's eyes widened. "Milady," she said, "you really are too kind."

She turned her head away, as if in shame. "Am I?" she asked, gazing at the view below. "Kind?"

"Even though milady tries to hide her kindness, I think"—Mina smiled as if she was recalling a fond memory—"her heart is always in the right place."

"Is that so?"

Dylan didn't think herself a kind person. She was never rude to anybody, but she never seemed to show excessive kindness. If good and bad deeds cancel each other out, then what would she be left with? Which way would the scale tip—to heaven or to hell? 

"Lady Dylan, is something bothering you?"

"Perhaps," she muttered, because she had no inclination to lie. The depth of her feelings scared her too much to admit. "Mina, what do you think about Sir Cadence?"

"I think he's handsome." Mina leaned against the railing and breathed in the night air. "I also think he looks like milady."

"Really?" asked Dylan, quirking her eyebrow in the maid's direction. "How so?"

"You both have the same look in your eyes. A dull and heavy emptiness." Mina smiled sadly at her. "I would like it if milady smiled more," she said, "because I think that a smile suits you far better."

"Hmm." Her voice faded into the quiet night. "I wonder if that'll ever happen."

Suddenly the silence was broken by the distant sound of horses' hooves and the rattle of a carriage. 

"Who could that be at this hour?" Mina asked. 

'Is that the Frederique family's crest?'

Dylan felt an overwhelming sense of dread as she stared at the carriage. For security reasons, the academy gates were locked on weekdays. They only opened for one reason—in case of an emergency.

"I'm going to check it out," she said softly, heading towards the balcony doors. But she stopped with one hand on the doorknob. "You're not going to stop me," Dylan said, glancing over her shoulder, "right?"

"It would be pointless," Mina smiled, "because no one can stop you."

Dylan ran as fast as her feet would carry her. She raced toward the carriage, hoping it was nothing more than a bad feeling.

"Laikin," Dylan called out as she neared the carriage. She paused when she sensed the tense atmosphere. "What's going on?"

Dylan tensed, taking in his dishevelled appearance. He looked as if he had just been woken up.

"Grandfather's fallen ill," he said. His words hit her like a blow to the heart, each one stinging just a little bit harder. 

"Take me with you, won't you?" she begged. Her voice was bordering on insanity. "I, I need to see him. I—"

"Okay," he said, grabbing her hand. He pulled her along toward the carriage. "Let's go."

***

Dylan could hear movement on the other side of the door. She could even hear whispers. Her trembling hand paused on the brass doorknob before turning it. There was a hint of squeaking as she pushed the door open.

Beside her she heard Laikin suddenly catch his breath. "Grandfather?" he said.

In the dim light, his features were hidden. But Dylan could see a man lying on the bed, arms by his sides, unmoving. A woman with kind eyes was leaning over him and wiping his face with a wet, cool cloth.

"Laikin," the Marchioness said with a sigh of relief. She wrung out the cloth and gently applied it to her father. "Come here."

"Mother, is he alright?" He walked over to the edge of the bed. "What happened?"

The Marchioness started speaking, but her words didn't reach Dylan. Dylan went numb—as if all her senses had been shut off. Her eyes filled up, tear after tear as her body began to tremble.

"Dylan," Edwin said in a painful-sounding whisper, "come here, my child."

Only then did the Marchioness realize that Laikin wasn't alone. "Dylan," she murmured with a smile. "You came in your nightgown? Should I call someone to bring you a proper change of clothes?"

But the girl didn't move. She stood trembling, her mind full of horrible thoughts.

"I'm okay," Edwin said weakly, biting back a groan. "Come here."

.

.

.

"I'm okay," she said weakly. Her hair surrounded her pale face like a dark stain. "Don't cry, it's okay. Mommy's here."

The little girl's knees were all cut up from kneeling so long on the wooden floor. She quietly sobbed at her mother's bedside, her trembling hands desperately holding onto her mother.

"Promise me, mommy." Dylan squeezed her mother's hands. "Promise me you'll get better."

She smiled faintly, but it was still beautiful. "It's only a slight cold," she said weakly. "Mommy is okay." 

Outside, it was raining hard. The harsh rain blew through the broken window and into their small house. It sounded like a requiem.

"Mom, please don't go! Please stay here," Dylan begged. 

She didn't have anybody else. The slow fever that had been burning so long in her mother's veins had grown to be a rapid and consuming fire. Dylan was only a small child. But even so, her hand could feel that her mother's skin was burning.

"My sweet girl," her mother whispered, "I love you." Filumena's heavy eyelids began to close, and she was about to pass into unconsciousness. "Mommy is just going to sleep for a..."

The frightened child began to scream for help, but nobody heard her. She scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding, and her vision clouded with tears. Dylan's knees stung like hell from the floor, but she ignored the pain. Her mother wasn't waking up.

Her fingers reached up, and swung the door open with great difficulty. "Don't worry, mommy," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "I'll get help."

The she disappeared into the darkness and rain.

.

.

.

The thought of losing him, the man who was the closest thing she had to family, made her chest tighten in pain. The immeasurable pain that plagued her heart was almost too much to handle. She dug her fingernails into her chest, trying to gouge out her heart. It left bloody scratches on her skin.

Dylan's knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground. "It hurts," she said in a trembling voice, "so much."

"Hey—" Laikin tried to reach out to her, moving forward a step, but her loud cries cut him off. He winced at the sound, but reached her anyway, dropping to his knees at her side. "Come on, snap out of it!" He shouted, grabbing her wrists. "Dylan!"

"Let go of me!" she screamed, struggling to free her wrists from his grasp. 

"Calm down! Dylan, calm down!" he argued, not letting go. "You need to calm down."

"Don't go," she managed to mutter between sobs. "Why does everyone leave me?"

The closest thing to a father she'd ever had was Edwin. The memories of her sick mother lying in bed began to overlap with his face. It made it hard to breathe.

She buried her face in Laikin's shoulder, sobbing brokenly.

"It's okay," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace. "It's okay."

In one corner of the bedroom, a chess board has been placed upon a charming game table. The board was empty, except for two pieces left standing on the squares—a queen chess piece, and a knight chess piece.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Sorry for the late update!

A new story has been uploaded on my website! You can find the link in my profile :)

I'd also like to announce that my novel is officially becoming a webcomic! Thank you all so much for your support <3 I wouldn't have been able to do this without you.