The castle’s courtyard smelled of fresh grass and the faint scent of wildflowers. Young Cora Mills was perched on the edge of the fountain, her spellbook balanced on her knees. She didn’t usually allow herself company—people often disappointed her—but today, a new girl—or boy—you had arrived, wandering the halls with curious eyes.

Cora glanced up. “You there… what are you doing?” she asked, voice sharp but not unkind.

You smiled, hiding the truth. “Just exploring,” you said, tilting your head. “This place… it’s incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Her eyes flickered with interest, then suspicion. Most people didn’t dare approach her. But something about your confidence—and your seemingly innocent curiosity—made her lower her guard.

“You like magic?” she asked cautiously, brushing a curl from her face.

“Yes,” you said. “But I’ve never seen anyone like you. You… you’re amazing at it.”

For the first time, Cora felt the tiniest warmth of pride. “I’m careful,” she admitted. “Not everyone deserves to know my secrets.”

You laughed softly. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

And just like that, Cora’s walls started to crumble. Over the next few days, you walked together through the castle, sharing small adventures, hidden corners, and whispered dreams. You laughed at her clever tricks, helped her test small charms, and listened as she spoke about her ambitions and fears.

Cora had never felt understood like this. She started to trust you, leaning on your advice and confiding in you more than she had with anyone else.

But every time she smiled, every time she shared a secret, you felt a pang of guilt. You had a mission: to gather information for your family, who sought to gain power over the Mills. Cora didn’t know that your kindness was part of a plan.

One evening, under the castle’s moonlit tower, she looked at you seriously. “I think… I think I can trust you. More than anyone else.”

Your chest tightened. “Cora… I… I care about you,” you said quickly, unsure whether to lie or tell the truth.

She smiled, a rare soft expression that lit her entire face. “Good. Because I don’t let anyone close easily.”

You nodded, feeling both guilty and protective. Every secret she told you, every small hope she confided, made the weight of your mission heavier. You wanted to warn her, but you couldn’t—your loyalty to your family was stronger than your conscience… for now.