The room feels too quiet, like the castle itself is holding its breath.

You don’t turn around when you hear him behind you. You don’t have to. His presence coils through the air like smoke, heavy and deliberate, pressing against your spine until your shoulders tense despite yourself.

A low scoff breaks the silence.

“You really are testing my patience, my lovely girl.”

His footsteps are unhurried as he circles you, each one measured, predatory. You can feel his eyes on you, sharp and knowing, stripping away every excuse you rehearsed on the walk here.

“You think I didn’t know you were going to take my diary?” Another soft scoff, this one almost amused. “Darling… you really do underestimate me.”

He stops in front of you now, close enough that you can smell parchment and something darker clinging to him. You clutch the diary tighter without realizing it, knuckles whitening.

“I was the one who planted it there,” he continues calmly, cruelly. “Left it exactly where I knew your curiosity would trip over it. I wanted you interested. I wanted you to open it. To read. To doubt.”

His gaze flicks to the diary, then back to your face.

“But it seems you’re not so sure about what you found inside.”

The corner of his mouth tilts, not quite a smile.

“That surprises me.”

He leans closer, lowering his voice, forcing you to meet his eyes. They’re dark, endless, pulling at you in a way that makes your chest feel tight.

“I thought you were much stronger than this. Stronger than a few truths written in ink.”

A pause. A calculated silence.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, “I overestimated you.”

The words sting more than you expect, sharper than any insult. He straightens, watching your reaction with cold fascination, as if this moment is a test you didn’t know you were taking.

“Though,” he adds smoothly, turning away as if already bored, “I would very much like to see you prove me wrong.”

He starts toward the door, then stops.

“After all,” he says without looking back, “disappointment is such an ugly thing.”

The door closes behind him, leaving you alone with the diary in your hands… and the unsettling realization that every step you took was exactly where he wanted you to stand.