Chapter 1 Chapter 1
Vivian’s POV
“And here we have the crown of Queen Elizabeth the first,” I said, gesturing to the glass case that held the diamond-encrusted piece.
The tour group leaned in, murmuring appreciatively. Just as I was about to explain the significance of the crown, my phone buzzed in my coat pocket.
Damn it. I had forgotten to put it on silent.
Tour guides weren’t supposed to check their phones during work hours, but even as I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it could be something important.
When it buzzed again, I cleared my throat, holding a polite finger to my tour group. “I’m sorry just a minute please.”
Turning away, I slipped my phone out and glanced at the screen, my heart racing for some reason.
My gaze found the notification tab from my email, the bold letters making my breath hitch.
Congratulations on Your Selection – Victorian Valentine’s Masquerade Ball Committee
At that moment, the world faded into the background. The subtle chatter of the museum quieted, reducing a slight hum in my ears. The polished floors beneath my feet seemed to float, feeling like I was drifting to the sky.
I read the subject line over and over again, convinced my eyes were deceiving me. Maybe I had drunk too much coffee and it was coming back to bite me, but alas, my grip on my phone tightened, and the words didn’t change.
They were there. They were real.
My thumb hovered over the tab, frozen for a second before finally tapping on it.
Dear Vivian Indila,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected as one of the official organizers for the Victorian Valentine’s Masquerade Ball, held every decade on February 14th.
Out of thousands of applicants worldwide, your academic focus on Victorian tradition and history distinguished you as a final candidate.
My lips split into a wide grin, and it took everything in me not to jump in my spot. I pressed my hand to my mouth, laughter bubbling in my throat as my eyes burned with tears of joy.
I read through the rest of the terms attached to the email, excitement coursing through my veins. I would have a chance to meet international historians, gain exclusive archival access, and receive generous compensation.
Compensation was a stretch. Because the amount listed was more than I ever expected, more than my yearly paycheck.
Taking a deep breath, I regained my composure, sporting a professional smile as I tucked my phone into my coat and turned to the tour group.
“Sorry about that,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the urge to yell in pure happiness. “Now if you’ll follow me….”
The tour continued, but my mind was far gone, unable to comprehend what just happened.
After my shift at the museum ended, I rushed to the hospital, but not in panic.
The smell of antiseptics welcomed me, and the nurse at the front desk sat up when she saw me, her brows arched suggestively.
“What’s got you so happy?” She mused, a faint smile curling on her lips. “Finally got a boyfriend?”
I shook my head at Martha, offering her a blinding grin. “Even better.”
Her eyes widened. “Two boyfriends?”
“Martha.” I couldn’t help but laugh, playfully punching her shoulder. “There’s more to life than relationships.”
“Is that so?” Martha propped her elbows on the counter, giving me a skeptical look. “So what can be better than two boyfriends?”
Martha was my closest friend, we had met at the hospital, and she had comforted me in my darkest moments, so much so that I stopped seeing her as a friend, and more like a sister.
“I’ll tell you later,” I said, glancing down the hall. “Is Elena up?”
Martha hummed in response, “Yeah.”
“Okay, thanks,” I waved Martha goodbye, skipping in my steps as I made my way to my younger sister’s room.
Elena was curled beneath thin blankets, her dark hair pulled into a loose braid. Her skin was brighter, and I was grateful for that, but she still looked fragile, yet despite her condition, she always held a bright smile.
She was looking out the window when I walked in, watching the sun set over the horizon.
“Hey sis,” I greeted, and she turned to me, her eyes widening momentarily.
“You’re early,” she said as I took a seat beside her bed. “Did a ghost come alive in the museum and chase you out?”
“I wish,” I mused, taking her hand in mine. “I have good news, and I just couldn’t wait to tell you.”
Her brows furrowed, eyes narrowed in speculation as she pursed her lips “You got a boyfriend?”
My smile fell as I gave her a blank look. First Martha, now her. “Really?”
Elena shrugged, her eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s overdue.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes, my smile returning. “Well let’s keep my love life aside for now,” I said, my grip on her hand tightening as I paused for dramatic effect. “I got selected for the Masquerade Ball!”
Elena gasped, her jaw hitting the floor. “Really?! Vivian—that’s incredible! It’s like your biggest dream!”
“Yes,” I nodded, still unable to believe it myself. “They chose me out of thousands. Historians from all over the world will be there. And the pay…” I squeezed her hand, my voice quaking with emotion. “It’s enough for the next phase of your treatment.”
Elena’s gaze softened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You do so much for me already.”
“I know.” I sniffed, not wanting to cry in front of her. “I promised I’d take care of you.”
A promise I also made to our late parents. It didn’t matter how many shifts I had to take, or how many loans I had in my name. I will do everything I can to keep her alive.
Elena chuckled, her lips settling into a bittersweet smile. “Just don’t forget to live while you’re saving me.”
I didn’t answer. Because I never knew how to explain that saving her was my life.
And the only reason I kept going.
My lips parted in awe as I stood before the Northbrook Estate. The venue of the masquerade ball, was the mansion where the very first masquerade ball had been held in 1885.
The event was two months away, but the organizers were invited to tour the estate earlier.
That was why I was here, and it was more breathtaking in person than in the history books. The sight stole my breath, entrapped by the timeless beauty of the building.
I had read stories about the Duke who’d owned it, and they always say that he had been an alcoholic enigma—unmarried, powerful, rumored to be ruthless.
But a ball he started had stood the test of time, and there was something about his story that felt unfinished, like a mystery wrapped in itself.
While the others discussed logistics and other formalities, I drifted away, focusing on touring the rest of the mansion myself.
Soon, I found myself in the ballroom, imagining a party as I spun to an invisible tune, dancing with an imaginary date.
It was crazy and I knew, but I had always felt like I was born in the wrong time. That was why I was so invested in history, like my body was here, but my heart belonged to another timeline.
Just as I was about to leave and rejoin the group, something flashed in the corner of my eye. I paused, noticing the mirror at the end of the hall. The sunlight from the window bounced off it, redirecting its rays towards me.
Without thinking, I stepped closer, and for some reason, my heart began to race. My reflection stared back at me, and as if under a spell, I reached out to trace the delicate carvings of the frame beneath my fingers.
But then my fingers brushed the glass, and the mirror rippled like water.
I gasped, staggering back in shock. But before I could turn away, a violent force surged forward, wrapping around my wrist and yanking me off my feet.
“What—” I struggled against the invisible force, panic flaring through me. “Help!!”
My voice echoed into nothing, my eyes widening as my arm began to disappear through the mirror.
“Hel—”
The invincible force won the tug of war, cutting me off as I was thrown into darkness.
