Chapter 1 invitation
Nearly a thousand years old, the castle stood in a forgotten corner of Iceland—far beyond mapped roads, beyond signal, beyond reason. No villages surrounded it. No travelers stumbled upon it. It existed apart from the world, as though time itself had chosen to leave it untouched.
Twice a year, and only twice—once in the thaw of spring and once in the stillness of winter—the castle opened its gates.
For three days.
No tickets were sold. No prices were listed. Wealth meant nothing here. Instead, the castle chose.
Those who wished to enter were required to write a letter—an honest confession of desire. Why they wished to see it. Why they believed themselves worthy. Most never received a reply. Some waited years. Many were never chosen at all.
But those who were selected did not simply receive an invitation.
They were summoned.
A letter, sealed in black wax, would arrive without warning. Soon after, a car—luxurious, silent, and impossibly precise—would appear at their doorstep. A butler, composed and unreadable, would escort them on a journey already arranged: flights, transport, and every indulgence prepared in advance.
And then, for three days, they would live inside the castle.
This year, Jenny was chosen.
She had not expected it.
Her letter had been simple—written late at night, ink slightly smudged where her thoughts had outrun her hand. She had written not about adventure or beauty, but about longing. About feeling as though something in the world was calling her, though she did not know what it was.
And somehow, that had been enough.
Jenny, with her ginger curls and quiet curiosity, stood at the edge of something she did not yet understand. When the letter arrived, her hands trembled as she broke the seal. When the car came, she hesitated only once—before stepping inside.
She was allowed to bring one guest.
She chose Emma.
Emma, her closest friend, met the news with excitement that bordered on disbelief. Where Jenny felt a quiet pull, something deep and unexplainable, Emma felt thrill—adventure, mystery, the promise of something extraordinary.
They spoke of frozen lakes and ancient halls, of forests wrapped in fog and rivers that whispered through stone. They imagined beauty.
They imagined wonder.
They did not imagine being expected.
Because somewhere, beyond the visible world, something had already begun to stir.
Someone had already begun to wait.
For centuries.
And now, at last—
Jenny was coming.
