Morning light crept across the lush tapestry of Seraphine Elmswood's chamber like a shy visitor, hesitating at the foot of her grand four-poster bed before daring to climb the hills and valleys of its quilted expanse. She lay amidst the folds of her silken nightgown and bedding, her wild auburn curls haloing her delicate features in a verdant frame.

The faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air, carried by the wafting breeze from her open window. The aroma invited the gentle kiss of morning to awaken her senses, the warmth of sunlight upon her skin and the distant melody of songbirds drifting into her dreams.

Slowly, Seraphine opened her eyes, blinking away the vestiges of slumber as she gazed at the ceiling above her. She watched the muted light play across its intricately carved surface, tracing the familiar contours with her gaze as she collected her thoughts.

It had been another busy night for her, with little time for rest. Her mind was still whirling from all the excitement, and she wasn't sure if she'd even slept at all. Still, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment after the successful hunt.

"Another night, another monster slain," she muttered to herself. "And hopefully, a bit of a break before the next one."

With a languid stretch that chased the last remnants of sleep from her limbs, Seraphine pushed back the covers and slid from her bed, her long hair tumbling around her shoulders in a disheveled mane. Her feet touched the cool wooden floor, and she padded silently to the window, pulling aside the curtains to gaze out at the lush expanse of her family's estate.

Thornhaven's academy grounds sprawled out below her, its ancient stone buildings and gardens basking in the glow of dawn. She could see the Obsidian Tower in the distance, its spire piercing the sky like a black, jagged needle. Even now, its presence filled her with a sense of foreboding, as if it were watching her from afar.

She shook her head, pushing away the thoughts that lingered in the back of her mind. "You're just tired, Sera. You need to stop letting those old stories get to you."

Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the window and began preparing for the day ahead. Today was a rare day not commanded by the hunt. Today, she was just Seraphine, not the Emerald Huntress.

In the adjoining washroom, she splashed cold water on her face, watching in the mirror as droplets traced paths down her cheeks, highlighting the dusting of freckles across her pale skin. Her green eyes looked brighter than usual, no doubt from the previous night's excitement.

Turning from the mirror, she stripped off her nightgown and slipped into the steaming bath that had been drawn for her while she slept. The hot water felt wonderful against her skin, and she sighed contentedly as she sank into its embrace. For a moment, she allowed herself to simply enjoy the sensation, closing her eyes and letting the warmth seep into her weary bones.

As she relaxed, she couldn't help but think back on the previous night's events. She'd been tracking the Murmuros for days, tracking it across the districts before finally cornering it here in Thornhaven.

The creature had been strong, far stronger than she'd expected. If not for Levy's insistence on teaming up, she wasn't sure if she could've defeated it on her own. The two of them made a good team, and she was grateful to have a reliable partner at her side.

Of course, he wasn't the only one she could rely on. Her family name carried with it certain privileges and responsibilities, both of which she took seriously. As the last remaining scion of the Elmswood lineage, she knew she had a duty to fulfill.

To protect the people of Mordenstradt from those who would seek to harm them, to carry on the legacy of her forebears, to uphold the noble traditions of her ancestors. It was a heavy burden, but one she bore with pride.

Still, that didn't mean she didn't have time for a bit of fun. Seraphine let out a soft laugh, recalling how she'd met Levy on her first hunt in Mordenstradt as a fledgling Huntress. He'd saved her from an Unhallowed beast back then, and now they often hunted together as partners.

She enjoyed his company, both on the hunt and off. His calm demeanor and quick wit never failed to bring a smile to her face. Even when things got tough, he always seemed to know just what to say to make her feel better.

But she also knew that he harbored feelings for her, feelings she couldn't return. He was a good friend, and she cared for him deeply—like family—but that was all. Still, she didn't want to hurt his feelings, and so she'd done her best to keep things platonic between them. It wasn't easy, but she knew it was the right thing to do.

Hunters lived dangerous lives, often ending prematurely in death. To get close to another Hunter, only to lose them later... Seraphine couldn't imagine the heartbreak that would cause. She didn't want that kind of pain in her life, not after everything else she'd endured.

It was safer for both of them to remain friends. To keep their emotions in check and focus on the hunt.

And yet... a part of her couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to let down her guard, to allow herself to fall for someone. Perhaps someday she would find someone who could spark her heart, but for now, her duties as a Hunter took precedence. Love would have to wait.

Seraphine shook her head, dismissing the thoughts as she rose from the bath, wrapping herself in a towel and padding back into her room to begin her morning ritual. Each movement was precise, the product of years spent honing not just the body but the mind and spirit as well. She reached for the small kettle and tea leaves prepped the night before—a habit instilled by her mother, who’d insisted that a Hunter's vigilance began with the dawn.

As the tea steeped, its earthy scent filling the room, Seraphine attended to her appearance. Her auburn curls, usually left to cascade freely down her back, were today pulled back and woven into a practical braid, studded with tiny clips that gleamed like dewdrops in the early light. Her fingers moved deftly, each clip a talisman, each twist a spell of readiness.

The clink of glass drew her attention to the small collection of vials lined up neatly on her dresser. Each one contained a different concoction or oil, blessings, and protections she had crafted from the teachings of older Hunters. She selected a vial, the contents shimmering with a faint light, and dabbed the oil behind her ears, between her breasts, and along her wrists—a warding ointment to keep away minor curses and hexes.

She moved to her armoire, selecting her attire for the day—a loose blouse of white linen tucked into a corseted bodice and a skirt of earthen tones that hugged her hips and fell just below her knees. The soft leather of her boots encased her feet, their soles whisper-quiet on the wooden floor as she made her way back to the small table beside her bed.

Sitting down, she poured herself a cup of tea and inhaled its steam, savoring the warmth that filled her chest. Her eyes drifted closed as she took a sip, letting the flavors wash over her tongue. It was an old family recipe, passed down through generations of Elmswoods, imbued with a potent blend of herbs said to enhance a Hunter's senses for a day.

Seraphine couldn't help but wonder how many times her mother had taken this same tea before going out on a hunt. How many times had she sat at this very table, sipping from this very cup, steeling herself for whatever awaited? It was a bittersweet thought, one that both comforted and saddened her.

After tea, she meditated on the floor, folding her legs beneath her as she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, centering her mind and spirit.

Finally, she rose and made her way downstairs, her footfalls barely making a sound as she descended the winding staircase.

The manor was quiet, the only sounds were the soft ticking of the grandfather clock and the distant clatter of the kitchen where old Mrs. Coltridge prepared the morning meal.

"Good mornin’, Lady Seraphine," Mrs. Coltridge greeted her, with a nod that set her cap a-wobble. "Breakfast’s just about ready, and there’s scones—your favorite, with clotted cream and jam."

"Thank you, Mrs. Coltridge," Seraphine said with a smile. She settled at the kitchen table, not the dining room, where breakfast was a solitary affair, here among the clinks and clatters of the household awakening, she felt a comforting sense of belonging.

She tucked into the scones with relish, enjoying every buttery bite. As she ate, she listened to Mrs. Coltridge's gossip, mostly stories about the families of Thornhaven. This was how Seraphine kept abreast of the rumors and goings-on in the district. It never hurt to know as much as possible about one's surroundings.

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"Will you be meetin’ Master Levy today?" Mrs. Coltridge asked, casting a curious glance in Seraphine's direction.

"I'm not sure," Seraphine said, her tone neutral. "We'll see if we run into each other. He might have other business to attend to."

Mrs. Coltridge smiled knowingly. "Of course. Well, you two do make quite the pair when yer workin' together."

Seraphine chuckled softly, not wanting to encourage the older woman's matchmaking attempts. "We're just friends, Mrs. Coltridge."

"If you say so, lass," Mrs. Coltridge replied, sounding unconvinced. But she didn't press the matter, for which Seraphine was grateful. She wasn't sure how long she could keep up the pretense of disinterest.

"Oh! Have you heard?" Mrs. Coltridge paused in her baking to look at Seraphine. "There's been rumors that news of the late diva, Marquess Aubrey Sinclair, has been greatly exaggerated and that she isn't actually dead. In fact, some say they've seen her wandering about in the Ironworks. If true, it'd be quite a story, wouldn't it?"

Seraphine tried not to react. She hadn't heard this rumor before.

Of course, she had no interest in divas, operas, or music at all. Those pursuits belonged to people with more time on their hands than sense. However, she did find it curious that there would be such talk now.

It was probably just some publicity stunt, an attempt to draw attention to an opera performance. Or maybe one of the divas was so jealous of Aubrey's success that they wanted to spread false rumors about her death just to get attention. Still, Seraphine made a mental note to ask Levy if he'd heard anything about it. He always seemed to have his ear to the ground when it came to these sorts of things.

"That is interesting," Seraphine said with a polite smile. "I'll have to ask Levy if he's heard anything about it."

Mrs. Coltridge clucked her tongue. "You should really learn more about music and opera, Lady Seraphine. You might find you like it. Spending all your time hunting, training, and reading tomes all day... It ain't good for a young lady like you. Why, when I was your age, I knew all the latest songs and dances! There wasn't a social gathering I didn't attend, and I had my pick of suitors, I tell you!"

Seraphine raised an eyebrow. She couldn't imagine Mrs. Coltridge as anything other than the cheerful, grandmotherly figure she'd always known. "Is that so?"

"Oh, aye! I even took dance lessons with Lady Adelaide—you know, from the Aldernay family? We were quite the pair back then. And you know what they say about dancers..." Mrs. Coltridge trailed off, a dreamy look in her eyes.

"What do they say?" Seraphine asked, curious despite herself.

Mrs. Coltridge leaned closer and whispered, "They're the best lovers!"

Seraphine couldn't help but laugh at that. "I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Coltridge. Thanks for the advice."

As Seraphine finished her meal and made to leave, Mrs. Coltridge handed her a neatly wrapped bundle. "Here, take these scones with you. And if you do see Master Levy, give him my regards."

Seraphine took the package, knowing full well that the housekeeper would have pressed them into her hands regardless of whether she'd agreed to deliver them. She'd learned long ago that it was easier to acquiesce than to argue.

"Thank you, Mrs. Coltridge. I'll pass on your regards," Seraphine said with a smile. "I'll see you this evening."

The housekeeper nodded and went back to her work as Seraphine headed out into the sunshine.

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The library was her sanctuary, the smell of old paper and leather as familiar and comforting as the scent of the forest after rain. Seraphine selected several volumes, laying them out on the large oak table that dominated the center of the room. Her finger traced the spine of a particularly old book, its cover worn to a soft patina by countless other hands.

Opening it, she found the margins filled with notes in her father’s hand, his writing meticulous and precise—a sharp contrast to her own looping scrawl. She always had difficulty sitting still long enough to make her notes as tidy as his, and she often found herself with ink stains on her fingers at the end of a session. But she enjoyed the process, nonetheless, taking great care to ensure that each word was perfectly legible.

Seraphine settled into the task, her mind absorbing the words, her memory piecing together the bits of lore and wisdom that would make her a better hunter. It was an arduous task, one that required patience and perseverance, but it was also rewarding—in more ways than one. For every hour spent hunched over a dusty tome, she felt closer to her family, to her legacy, to the spirits of those who had come before her.

But not all knowledge could be gleaned from books. There were some things that could only be learned through experience—things that couldn't be taught, only discovered.

She turned the page, her finger running along the text, absorbing the words as if by osmosis. The tale of an ancient beast, defeated by a noble Hunter. The chronicle of a fearsome battle, fought and won against seemingly impossible odds. Each story told a lesson, imparting valuable wisdom to future generations of Hunters.

Seraphine reached the end of the book and sat back, her mind churning with thoughts and ideas. She always felt energized after a session in the library, and she knew she would put her newfound knowledge to good use on her next hunt.

"I thought I'd find you here," Levy's voice echoed from behind her.

She turned to see him standing in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted by the sunlight streaming in from the hall. He wore his usual outfit of dark leather, accented by a crisp white shirt and black cravat. His black hair fell over his brow in a rakish manner, giving him a roguish air.

"I'm just finishing up," Seraphine replied, carefully closing the book and placing it back on the shelf. "You've finished your report? I assume that's why you're here?"

Levy shrugged, an easy smile on his lips. "Partly. But mostly, I wanted to see if you'd like to get some lunch. I've heard about a new cafe that's opened in the Jubilee Plaza, and I thought you might like to check it out with me."

Seraphine hesitated, her hand lingering on the spine of the book. She wasn't sure if she should accept his invitation or not. She didn't want to encourage him, but at the same time, she didn't want to hurt his feelings. And besides, she could use a break from her studies...

"Alright," she agreed, her lips curling into a smile. "Let's go. But we're going as friends, understand?"

Levy's eyes sparkled with amusement, and he gave her a wink. "Of course. Just two friends, enjoying a meal together."

As they made their way through the winding streets of Thornhaven, Seraphine couldn't help but notice that Levy seemed unusually animated today. His stride was longer than usual, and he kept glancing over at her with a boyish grin on his face.

"You seem rather excited," she commented, raising an eyebrow. "Care to share what's got you so worked up?"

Levy gave a nonchalant shrug, though his smile never faltered. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just enjoying the lovely weather."

Seraphine rolled her eyes but didn't press the issue further. She knew that whatever it was, he'd tell her eventually—he always did.

When they arrived at the cafe, Seraphine found herself pleasantly surprised by the charming little establishment. It was nestled away in a quiet corner of the plaza, its patio strung with lights and filled with small tables. A hostess led them to one such table, where they took their seats and perused the menu.

The cafe had an eclectic selection of food and drinks, from savory crepes to sweet pastries. Seraphine decided on a lavender latte and a spinach and feta crepe, while Levy opted for a dark roast coffee and a bacon-wrapped sausage kabob.

As they waited for their food, Seraphine couldn't help but notice that Levy's fingers kept tapping out an erratic rhythm on the tabletop. He was definitely up to something.

"So," she began, fixing him with a pointed stare, "are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to guess?"

Levy's grin widened, and he leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I might have gotten us tickets to a very unorthodox musical performance. It's supposed to be quite good."

Seraphine felt her stomach drop. The last thing she wanted to do was spend an evening listening to screeching divas warbling on stage.

"You know I don't like opera," she said flatly. "Why would you even suggest such a thing?"

"Oh, come on, and they say I'm the bookworm," Levy replied, his tone cajoling. "It'll be fun! You need to get out of the library and do something different once in a while. Besides, the tickets aren't for an opera—it's a show by a band called 'Unhallowed Harmony'. And if you don't like it, we can leave."

Unhallowed Harmony? What group would name themselves after such things?

"I think I'll pass," Seraphine said, shaking her head. "But you should go. It sounds like something you'd enjoy."

Levy frowned, disappointment flashing across his features. "You won't come with me? Not even as friends?"

Seraphine knew she couldn't keep dodging him like this, not if they were going to continue working together as partners. But at the same time, she couldn't imagine anything worse than sitting through an evening of musical torture just to appease him.

She took a deep breath and fixed him with a determined gaze. "If I say yes, will you promise to stop asking me out on dates?"

Levy looked affronted. "They're not dates! We're just two friends, enjoying each other's company."

Finally, she sighed and relented. "Alright, I'll go with you. But only as a friend."

Levy's expression brightened, and he gave her a charming smile. "Excellent! I'll pick you up at eight, then."

"Where is this performance taking place?" Seraphine inquired.

"Oh, it's in Gallow's Row," Levy replied airily. "I hear the venue's quite... unique."

Seraphine blanched. Gallow's Row was the most dangerous district in all of Mordenstradt, and it certainly wasn't a place for a lady to be visiting—especially not at night. She couldn't believe she'd let him talk her into this.

"Gallow's Row? Really?" she asked, trying to keep the disbelief from her voice. "Isn't that a bit... unsavory?"

Levy waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, come on. It'll be fine. We're Hunters, after all—if anything goes wrong, we can take care of ourselves."