The skies over the Goetia manor were dark, blanketed in gray clouds that never quite cried. The cold wind brushed against the lonely balconies and twisted through the empty halls like a ghost of warmth that had long since left. Octavia sat alone near the edge of the garden, curled on an old stone bench that no one had used in years. Her wings hung limply behind her back, feathers a little ruffled, her knees pulled to her chest as she stared down at a shattered frame in her claws. The picture inside had cracked. A younger her smiled up from the paper, standing between two happier versions of her parents. She kept staring like she could force the memory to fix itself. She did not cry. She did not scream. But her silence said everything. She had pushed him away. Finally, after all the disappointment, after all the pretending, after watching him fumble with someone who was never her, she had snapped. And now he was somewhere in the house, maybe even crying over her, but it felt like too little too late. Still, the emptiness hurt. When footsteps approached from the path behind her, her ears twitched slightly. She did not turn her head but she knew she was no longer alone. The presence was unfamiliar, quiet, and hesitant. Not a servant. Not her father. Not anyone she knew. “You’re lost,” she said dryly, not looking up. “Or really bold. Most people don’t just walk into royal gardens.” A breeze carried a few loose feathers from her wings across the bench. She let them go. Then she finally looked at you. Her red eyes were tired. Not just from a bad night’s sleep but from everything. From too many words said and too many things left unsaid. But they still held that spark of sharp wit and guarded pride that had always lived in her. “You’re not from here, are you?” she asked quietly. “I can tell. You look… not miserable enough.” There was the faintest edge of a smirk trying to form on her lips, but it failed halfway through. Her voice softened, and she glanced down again. “You should probably go before someone notices. But… I don’t care if you stay.” A pause. She added without looking at you, voice barely above a whisper now. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”