Chapter 1: A Bittersweet Sensation

The morning of February 25th arrived in its usual fashion—wet, cold, and gray. Eleanor Sweeting sat curled in her favorite armchair by the large bay window of her bedroom, staring at the rain-soaked garden below. The mansion’s sprawling grounds were blanketed in mist, making the towering oaks and manicured hedges seem ghostly and unreal. Beyond them, the glass walls of the Victorian greenhouse shimmered faintly in the drizzle, its interior glowing with the deep red of roses blooming against the pale morning light, petals bright as drops of blood behind the misted panes.

The mansion itself was a testament to timeless elegance, nestled on the outskirts of Elder Pines, Missouri—a secluded town wrapped in dense forest. Its dark brick walls stood immaculate against the pale morning mist, their symmetry softened only by the weathering of years. Tall chimneys and arched windows crowned the façade, the glass glinting faintly beneath the clouds. Inside, high ceilings and sweeping halls held antiques and heirlooms collected by the Sweeting family across generations—treasures steeped in both beauty and quiet dread. The air carried the warm scent of wood polish and aged paper, laced with the lingering trace of freshly brewed tea.

Eleanor, now eighteen, had spent her childhood home-schooled within the mansion’s walls. The house belonged to her as much as she belonged to it, though she often felt more a guest than its master. Since tragedy struck her family eight years ago, leaving her an orphan, she had been raised in the mansion by those who remained closest to her. Julian, once her father’s right hand in business and his closest friend, had taken on the role of guardian. For the past eight years, he managed the family’s antiquities trade along with the daily affairs of the house. Alistair served as chef and steward of the household staff—though, curiously, the cooks he hired rarely lasted more than a few weeks. And then there was Teddy, who seemed to do a bit of everything. Closest to her in age, he was also the closest thing she had to a friend.

Eleanor’s dark hair, still slightly tousled from sleep, framed her face as she held a steaming cup of tea in her hands. Her expression, pensive and distant, reflected the weight she carried—not just of the house’s legacy, but of her own quiet grief as every birthday brought the heavy weight of loss.

A sharp knock at the door broke the silence.

“Come in,” Eleanor called softly, setting her cup of tea on the small table beside her chair.

Julian stepped inside, his tall frame filling the doorway, his presence commanding yet calm. His neatly combed dark hair still held a hint of dampness from the morning mist, and consistent frown lines cut faint grooves into his forehead, a silent testament to a man who hardly ever smiled. His sharp blue eyes scanned the room briefly before landing on her.

“Good morning, Miss Sweeting,” he said, his voice low and steady. “And happy birthday.”

He carried a tray with a flawless breakfast: a golden omelet sprinkled with herbs, accompanied by fresh-baked bread and a glass of orange juice. He set it down on the table with precision, adjusting the napkin as though even the slightest imperfection would offend him.

“Thank you, Julian,” Eleanor said with a faint smile.

Before he could respond, a second knock came. This one softer, almost theatrical.

The door opened, and Alistair stepped in, his black eyes glinting with amusement as he glanced at Julian’s tray. His movements were smooth and deliberate, his long black hair tied back loosely, with a few strands falling to frame his pale, angular face.

“Good morning, Miss Sweeting,” he said, his tone as polished as his appearance. “And a very happy birthday.”

He carried a tray of his own, this one adorned with golden, freshly baked croissants, delicate scones, and tarts crowned with glistening fruit. Alongside the pastries sat a small platter of smoked salmon, accompanied by creamy herbed mascarpone and thinly sliced cucumber. The contrasting flavors and textures created a feast for the senses. As he set it beside Julian’s tray, a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

“Another breakfast?” Eleanor asked, tilting her head.

“Mine was the only breakfast, Miss Sweeting,” Alistair replied. “However,” he gestured toward Julian’s tray with a pointed glance, “it seems others found their way into my kitchen in an attempt to... create something of their own.”

Julian’s jaw tightened slightly, but his tone remained composed. “I suspected this morning would be overtaken by sugar in the name of celebration, so I prepared something balanced—a proper breakfast that nourishes rather than indulges.”

“Balance is one thing,” Alistair said, pouring Eleanor a cup of coffee with an elegant flourish. “Flavor is another.”

Eleanor sighed, smiling lightly, already sensing where this was going.

The door burst open before the tension could escalate further, and Teddy strode in with his usual whirlwind energy.

“Happy birthday, Ellie!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thaddeus!” Julian said sharply, “Use the door properly!”

“I did!” Teddy grinned, plopping his tray on the already-crowded table. “It opened, didn’t it?”

Unlike Julian’s precision and Alistair’s elegance, Teddy’s offering was pure chaos. The syrup spilled over the edges of the plate, and the whipped cream threatened to collapse.

Eleanor couldn’t help but smile at his energy. Teddy had always been the source of light in the otherwise somber household; everything about him was a distraction from the world.

“Teddy,” Alistair said, inspecting the syrup-drenched pancakes with thinly veiled disdain. “Is this your idea of sophistication, or your latest attempt to express love through poor dietary decisions?”

Teddy grinned, lounging casually in a nearby chair. “Sophistication? No Al, it’s called irresistible delight.” He turned to Eleanor with a playful wink. “The best way to start the day is with something sweet... and someone sweeter.” 

Alistair’s lips curled into a faint smile, “Miss Sweeting, are you expecting a guest? I was unaware that sweet company was on the menu this morning.” His gaze flicked to Teddy’s face with amusement. 

Julian, who had remained silent, finally chimed in, his voice carrying a quiet authority. “There’s no company here, just distractions.” His piercing gaze shifted between the trays. “Pastries and pancakes? Hardly a proper way to start the day. Eleanor requires proper nutrition, not theatrics.”

“Oh, here we go,” Teddy said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Juls and his ‘proper nutrition.’ Let me guess—your omelet has just the right ratio of boring to bland?”

Alistair chuckled softly, adding, “Your breakfasts are indeed... functional. But one might argue a touch of flavor wouldn’t hurt. Herbs don’t count as personality.”

Julian’s jaw tightened further, though his tone remained composed. “I would rather serve something simple and effective than clog her arteries with unnecessary sugar and butter.”

“And I’d rather enjoy my food than eat something that tastes like it came from a hospital cafeteria,” Teddy quipped.

“Everything looks amazing!” Eleanor interjected, waving her hand to stop them, though she couldn’t suppress a smile. “Thank you, all of you—this is more than I could’ve asked for.”

The three backed down, though the occasional glare still passed between Julian and Teddy as they settled into their places.

As Eleanor picked at her breakfast, enjoying bites from each tray to avoid playing favorites, Julian cleared his throat.

“Do you have plans for the day, Miss Sweeting?” he asked, his tone polite but purposeful.

“No,” Eleanor replied. “I don’t. I don't feel like doing anything today."

“Absolutely not!” Teddy declared, leaning forward in his chair. “You can’t just do nothing on your birthday!”

Julian nodded, though his expression was more measured. “It’s your day. It should be spent meaningfully.”

“I’m not in the mood for meaningful,” Eleanor muttered.

“Well, lucky for you,” Teddy said, “I have the perfect idea. We’ll binge-watch One Thousand Years of Love—snacks, drinks, and naked vampires. It’ll be great.”

Eleanor smiled despite herself. “I don’t think Julian would approve.”

“Certainly not,” Julian said with a faint frown. “But I’ve prepared something more suitable—a trip to a location I think you’ll find enchanting. We’ll leave after breakfast.”

“A trip?” Eleanor asked, raising an eyebrow. “Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” Julian replied, his expression giving away nothing.

Teddy groaned. “Ugh, boring. Ellie, come on, the series is way more fun than whatever brooding place Juls has planned.”

“She’ll decide for herself, Thaddeus” Julian said curtly.

“Indeed,” Alistair interjected smoothly. “But perhaps the day deserves something truly memorable—an exquisite dinner. I’ll begin preparations immediately.”

“Another cooking marathon?” Teddy teased. “I’m surprised you haven’t turned this house into a restaurant by now.”

Alistair ignored him, turning to Eleanor instead. “What do you say, Miss Sweeting? We’ll make it a dinner to remember.”

Eleanor glanced between them. “Alright. Let’s do it all. Julian, I’ll go on your trip. Teddy, we’ll binge-watch the series afterward. And Alistair, I’ll look forward to your dinner.”

“Wonderful,” Julian said, rising to his feet. “Prepare yourself, Miss Sweeting. We’ll leave shortly.”

As Julian left, Teddy leaned in towards Eleanor and whispered loudly, “Bet it’s just some old ruins.”

Alistair smirked as he turned to leave, his voice light with amusement. “At least the day won’t be dull.”

Disclaimer:
All characters, events, and content in this chapter are the original creations of Natalie Hunt. All rights are reserved. No part of this work may be copied, reproduced, distributed, or adapted in any form without explicit written permission.