Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
May 2nd, 1979
The Greengrass Manor stood quiet beneath a grey sky, its ivy-covered walls watching the world like it held centuries of secrets behind its stone. The sitting room was warm, lit softly by floating candles and the muted fire crackling in the hearth. Avery sat cross-legged on the velvet settee, nervously rolling a ring over her thumb. Regulus stood by the window, arms folded, his profile sharp and unreadable as he watched the gardens outside.
"They'll be here soon," Avery says softly, glancing at him.
"I know," Regulus replies without turning. There was tension in his jaw, but his voice stayed calm. "You're sure Dorcas won't try to hex me the second she walks in?"
Avery cracks a dry smile. "No, I'm not."
That drew the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth. "How reassuring."
She reached for his hand and gave it a light squeeze. "They deserve to know the truth. I trust Dorcas. And Pandora... she might take a moment, but she'll understand."
Regulus nodded once. He wasn't entirely at ease—he hadn't seen either of them in nearly a year. The sound of the front door echoed faintly through the manor.
"They're here," Avery says, standing.
Regulus exhaled and straightened up, smoothing his sleeves like it would somehow prepare him. He didn't move from his place by the window. Avery walked to the door just as the butler stepped back, letting in two familiar figures.
Dorcas was first—tall, sharp-eyed, and dressed in a black coat that made her look like she'd stepped out of a storm. Her gaze landed on Avery, softening for a moment. "Hey."
Behind her, Pandora looked smaller than usual, bundled in pastel knits with her hair braided loosely over one shoulder. Her eyes darted about the manor with cautious curiosity.
"Hey," Avery says, voice tight with emotion. "Come in. Thank you both for coming."
Dorcas stepped inside without hesitation. Pandora was slower, quieter. Her eyes landed on Regulus a beat later—and she blinked. Her lips parted like she might speak, but no words came.
Regulus turned to face them. He simply looked at them both and nodded once respectfully.
"Hi," he says, and his voice was lower, rougher than they remembered.
Avery took a careful step forward, her eyes flicking between the three. "I know this is strange. It's a lot. And I'm asking more than I have any right to. But if you're going to know the truth... you need to see both of us."
Dorcas folded her arms, her jaw tightening. "Well," she says, voice dry, "that much is painfully obvious."
There was no venom in it, just tension and hurt clinging to old memories. A pause stretched before Pandora spoke.
