Chapter 9: The Dark Light of Obsession
Three nights had passed since Sonia’s disappearance. That evening—like the ones before—Marius sat in the armchair in her bedroom, leaning back with his gaze fixed on the empty bed. Moonlight spilled through the half-drawn curtains, casting cold, pale shapes across the abandoned sheets. She had vanished from his grasp—like a fleeting shadow.
He lifted the handkerchief he’d once embroidered for her—a small golden bird stitched with meticulous care. The fabric was worn, faded from being clenched too often. He brought it to his lips, inhaling faint traces of her scent, his fingers trembling.
"Why did you leave me, Nia?" he whispered. His voice cracked, and his eyes narrowed, a pulse of frustration rising in his throat.
In the silence that followed, memories surfaced—unwelcome and sharp. They pulled him backward, to the day everything began.
Marius had been seven when they dragged him to the grand estate. The scent of rain on cobblestones clung to him as his small hands tightened around his mother’s cold, unmoving fingers. Her lifeless body lay in a crude wooden casket, unclaimed and disregarded by the world that had already forgotten her.
The high gates rose in front of him, cold and unwelcoming. Above, servants stood behind curtained windows, whispering to each other, their contempt barely hidden. Marius felt it like a chill slipping under his skin. He shuddered but stayed where he was, caught in a confusion he couldn’t quite name, and a fear that wouldn’t let go.
Then a woman appeared—elegant, striking, every inch a queen in bearing. But her beauty was sharpened by the disdain that curled her lips and darkened her eyes. The duchess. She sneered at the boy, then shot a glare at the duke.
"You expect me to raise that thing?" she hissed, her voice laced with venom.
The duke did not bother to look at Marius. "His mother is dead. He’s my son."
The duchess scoffed, pulling her fan tighter. "If you insist on keeping him, then at least keep him out of sight. I won’t have him staining our reputation."
From then on, Marius lived among the servants, tolerated but never welcomed. The cook slapped him for breaking plates, the stable boys kicked at him when he moved too slow, and the older servants mocked him for his unruly hair and dirty clothes.