I sighed and leaned against the cold stone railing, letting the night air brush against my face. The faint music from inside drifted through the open doors behind me, violins and polished laughter blending into a sound that grated on my nerves.
How much longer do I have to keep this up?
His Majesty should hurry and announce whatever he intends to announce and put an end to this wretched banquet already. The sooner this farce ended, the sooner I could breathe again.
"So," a familiar voice said behind me, calm and dangerously measured, "why are you using the spell I explicitly forbade you to use?"
I froze.
Busted.
There were very few situations where I couldn't talk my way out and unfortunately, this spell sat firmly at the top of that list.
I turned slowly, showing a harmless smile onto my face.
"Technically," I said carefully, "it wasn't me who cast it. It was Winter."
"I know," he replied flatly. "And she'll be hearing from me later. As for you…" His gaze narrowed slightly. "You'll be hearing from me as well when we return."
I suppressed a groan.
I'm doomed.
He was going to lecture me until sunrise.
"When did you figure it out?" I asked.
"I had my suspicions after you finished dressing," he said. "And you confirmed them when that brat pulled you closer during the dance and you didn't react at all."
Before I could respond, he reached forward and pinched my nose while quietly undoing the spell.
The magic unravelled like mist dissolving in sunlight, the subtle distortion of my appearance slipping away layer by layer.
If I hadn't asked Winter to cast the alteration spell, I would have already caused a scene just like I had with Cassian before.
Seeing them.
Seeing those people.
Those who had wronged me, laughing freely, speaking carelessly, and enjoying themselves as though the past had never existed, made my blood burn with a quiet, poisonous rage.
I had to remain rational.
It wasn't as if I couldn't kill them here.
I could.
I had immunity.
But that didn't mean I should.
"Master!"
"Child!"
Two small weights landed on my shoulders at once.
Lux and Frore clung to me happily, their faces bright with excitement and their mouths completely stuffed with sweets. Powdered sugar dusted their cheeks, crumbs clung to their lips, and the unmistakable scent of stolen confections surrounded them.
I couldn't help the small smile that slipped through my composure.
"You've been enjoying yourselves, I see," I said, brushing crumbs off their faces with my fingers.
They both nodded enthusiastically.
"Just make sure you don't get caught," I added quietly.
They nodded again far too quickly to be trustworthy before settling comfortably on my shoulders.
Barely a minute passed before Vivian and Cassian appeared through the terrace doors, walking side by side with their arms linked together as though they had been doing so their entire lives.
Both of them wore shades of red, though Vivian's dress leaned more toward a soft rose-pink than true crimson. The colour complemented her complexion beautifully, warming the natural softness of her features. Her hair had been styled in an elegant half-up arrangement, delicate curls falling over her shoulders, and the diamonds she wore caught the light with every movement, sharp white brilliance that contrasted vividly against her bright blue eyes.
Cassian, in deeper red, looked almost painfully proper beside her like a dutiful noble heir escorting his partner exactly as etiquette demanded.
Together, they looked like they belonged in a painting.
"There you are. We've been looking everywhere for you," Vivian said the moment she stepped onto the terrace, relief and mild exasperation mixing in her voice.
"Your duckling can't stay away from you for more than ten minutes," Nox added teasingly.
"Shut up," I muttered under my breath.
"You can't deny it," he said smugly, already drifting backwards through the air. Without waiting for a reply, he scooped Lux and Frore off my shoulders and carried them away with him.
I folded my arms and looked back at Vivian and Cassian.
"What are you doing out here," Vivian asked, tilting her head slightly, "when the main event is happening inside?"
"Enjoying the night breeze," I answered simply.
It wasn't entirely a lie.
The cool air steadied me far better than the suffocating warmth of the hall.
"We saw the Headmaster inside," Cassian said.
Damian?
What was he doing here?
Of all people, he had no reason to attend a royal banquet unless something significant was about to happen.
I frowned slightly but pushed the thought aside. I'd think about it later.
"Are you enjoying yourself, Vivi?" I asked instead.
Her face lit up instantly.
"I am," she said warmly. "Cassian's been helping me a lot. And his parents are very nice people."
I glanced at Cassian.
She had already met his parents.
Impressive work, Cassian.
We spoke casually for a few more minutes, harmless conversation drifting from one subject to another until someone called Cassian's name from inside the hall.
He excused himself quickly, promising to return soon before disappearing through the doors.
The moment he was gone, Vivian turned back toward me.
"So…" she said slowly.
I recognized that grin. That grin never meant anything good for me.
"What?" I asked cautiously.
Her smile widened.
"I saw you and Asier dancing," she said, barely containing her excitement. "When he pulled you closer—"
She let out a quiet squeal.
"And?" I said flatly.
"And didn't you get butterflies?" she asked eagerly. "I got them when Cassian was teaching me."
Cassian is coming on strong.
"Sorry to burst your bubble," I said dryly, "but my butterflies are dead."
For that vermin to make my heart flutter… The world would have to end first.
"Don't give up hope," Vivian said gently. "One day your butterflies will come back too."
I smiled faintly at her innocence. At the quiet certainty in her voice.
She truly believed that one day I would experience something as ordinary as love.
As if someone like me could ever live something so… normal.
"Lia."
Nox's voice suddenly echoed inside my head, sharp and urgent.
I straightened slightly.
"Yeah?"
"That man is here," he said. "He's here."
I didn't need to hear the name to know whom Nox was talking about.
For a moment, everything inside me went still not with shock, not with fear but with a rage so absolute it hollowed me out from within.
The world seemed to narrow into something sharp and suffocating, as if the air itself had thickened. My heartbeat slowed instead of racing, each pulse heavy and deliberate, like a warning tolling in the distance.
A cold stillness settled over me, the kind that comes before something breaks.
Beneath it, the fury coiled tighter and tighter, silent and suffocating, pressing against the walls I had built to contain it. Memories stirred unbidden gold light, carved runes, voices whispering prayers that sounded more like verdicts and for a brief, dangerous moment, I could almost feel the chains biting into my wrists again.
The calm that settled over me was not peace. It was the kind that comes just before violence thin, brittle, and waiting for the slightest touch to shatter.
How dare he step inside this palace…
My fingers curled slowly at my sides.
So he had come.
Here.
After everything.
He's acting like a saint when he was nothing but a monster wearing human skin.
"Where is he?" I asked silently.
My voice sounded calm.
But beneath it, something violent strained against its restraints.
"He's standing in the center of the hall," Nox replied. "With that brat."
A pause.
"And Lia… that brat's eyes are exactly like yours."
My fingers tightened slightly at my sides.
"Does he know I'm here?" I asked.
"I don't think so," Nox said.
Excellent.
A slow breath left my lungs.
The air suddenly felt sharper.
Clearer.
Alive with possibility.
Because if he didn't know I was here…
Then that meant I could move first.
I lifted my gaze toward the open terrace doors, the distant glow of the ballroom spilling into the darkness.
A faint smile curved my lips.
Cold.
Anticipating.
"Let the show begin."
I stepped into the hall.
I was no longer the helpless child who had once lived at that man's mercy trembling, broken, powerless beneath his gaze.
Things had changed.
Now he was the prey.
And I was the predator.
Slowly, patiently I would strip away the mask he wore so proudly. I would reveal his true nature piece by piece, until there was nowhere left for him to hide. I would drown the temple in the blood of its own faithful, dye its sanctified halls red while they turned on one another and in the end, when he finally understood what he had created, he would beg for mercy.
And I would deny him.
Every last drop of it.
My steps were measured as I approached, my expression calm, composed immaculate.
"Asier."
He turned toward me at once, his eyes narrowing slightly as if something about me felt… off. As if he were looking at someone familiar who had been replaced by a stranger wearing the same face.
"Your Holiness," I said with perfect politeness, dipping into a graceful curtsy. "I hope I didn't interrupt you."
Before either of them could respond, I stepped forward and gently linked my arm through Asier's.
The contact was deliberate.
Controlled.
"No, you didn't, Lady Florence," the bishop replied smoothly. "We were merely exchanging pleasantries."
Even standing inches away from that monster, even breathing the same air all I could think about was killing him.
My hands itched for it.
I wanted to tear him open and watch the life drain from his eyes. I wanted his blood on my hands, hot and real, proof that he could die like anyone else.
I needed to kill him.
"May I ask," he continued warmly, "how my Asier is doing at the academy? Since he grew older and… rebellious… it has become difficult for me to keep an eye on him."
Crack.
The sound was almost inaudible: the tightening of a jaw, the grinding of teeth but I heard it clearly.
For the first time, I saw unmistakable anger in those vermin eyes.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"What can I say, Your Holiness," I said sweetly. "We're on very good terms. We help each other all the time."
I smiled wider.
"We even eat together."
He stiffened beside me.
"Is that so?" the bishop said, pleased. "I worried he might be too shy to adjust, but it seems he is enjoying himself."
"Oh, you needn't worry," I replied smoothly. "I'll make sure Asier has plenty of fun until we graduate."
Keep believing the lies I feed you.
Soon enough, they'll choke you.
"Your Holiness, if you'll excuse us," I continued politely. "We still have many people to greet."
He inclined his head.
We withdrew without another word.
—
We returned to the terrace, the noise of the hall fading behind us.
He said nothing.
Not a single word.
His silence stretched on, heavy and sharp.
Maybe I should poke him a little.
Without warning, I stepped in front of him and dropped to one knee.
"Hand."
Almost automatically, he placed his hand into mine.
The contact snapped him out of whatever storm he'd been trapped in.
His gaze dropped to our joined hands then shot up to my face.
"What were you doing?" he demanded.
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with." I said as I stood up.
"I do," he said sharply. "I have business with him, and you just pushed your way into it."
His eyes hardened.
"If you get in my way again, it won't end well for you."
"Threatening me now?" I said coldly.
I leaned slightly closer.
"You can take your petty threats and shove them where the sun doesn't shine. I don't care."
Before he could respond—
"Excuse me," an attendant said, bowing slightly. "His Majesty is about to make his announcement."
"We'll be right there," I replied.
I turned to him.
"This isn't over."
—
Back in the hall, we stood with Vivian and Cassian carefully positioned between us like unwilling diplomats.
"I see everyone has gathered," His Majesty announced.
The hall fell silent.
"Tonight, I have called you here to make an announcement."
He paused, letting anticipation build.
"The people who helped us win the war and those who fell in it deserve to be remembered. To honour them, I have decided to establish a festival. It will become a national holiday, so future generations will know of their sacrifice."
My stomach dropped.
What was he saying?
He promised.
He promised he wouldn't do anything like this.
"There was a warrior," the king continued, "who carried the frontlines on their shoulders. Though they are no longer with us, I hope wherever they are… they have found peace."
Excuse me, Your Majesty.
I am very much alive.
"In one month, the festival will commence."
Applause filled the hall.
Some nobles looked dissatisfied, but none dared voice objections.
"And one more matter," the king continued. "Headmaster Damian also has an announcement."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Damian said.
He stepped forward.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. As everyone present here knows… of the tragedy that befell the Florence household."
My blood ran cold.
Does he know? That's impossible. I hid everything.
No one knows.
No one could know.
Vivian and Cassian both looked at me.
"How Margrave and his family went missing… leaving only their eldest daughter behind."
Missing.
The word struck like a blade.
Not sharp and clean but slow and merciless, twisting where it lodged deep inside my chest.
Missing.
As if they had simply wandered off. As if they might still return one day. As if time had merely misplaced them instead of swallowing them whole.
A dull ache spread outward from my ribs, heavy and suffocating, pressing against my lungs until every breath felt shallow and incomplete. It climbed into my throat and settled there like a stone, thick and unmoving, making it impossible to swallow past the grief clawing its way upward.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.
For a moment, the hall disappeared, the lights, the voices, the music all faded beneath the crushing weight of memories I had buried so carefully.
Their voices.
Their laughter.
The warmth of a home that no longer existed.
Gone.
All of it is gone.
And yet here they stood, speaking of it like a distant tragedy. A story. A misfortune whispered between polite conversations and lifted glasses of wine.
Missing.
The word echoed again, hollow and unbearable.
Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, sharp and humiliating. Unbidden. Unwanted. I forced them back with sheer will, blinking hard until the world steadied again. Crying here would be a weakness.
But the ache didn't fade.
It only deepened.
Because they were speaking about my family as if they were ghosts.
As if they belonged to the past.
As if I hadn't been there.
As if I hadn't watched everything fall apart.
As if I hadn't survived it alone.
Something tightened painfully in my chest, twisting until it hurt to stand upright.
I had endured worse than this.
Far worse.
And yet these quiet words spoken so calmly before a crowd of strangers cut deeper than any blade ever had.
Because this wasn't pain I could fight.
This wasn't an enemy I could kill.
This was grief.
And grief did not bleed.
"I searched for my friend for years," Damian continued quietly. "But I never found a trace. Then, a year ago, their daughter enrolled in the academy."
He smiled faintly.
"And I discovered a letter my friend left for me naming me as guardian to Cecilia Florence."
So that was why he stopped pestering me. Why had he grown so quiet?
"I have already received His Majesty's permission," he continued. "And today, before all of you—"
Please.
Don't.
"I ask Cecilia Florence… to become part of my family."
The hall turned toward me.
Expectant.
Waiting.
Demanding an answer.
My control was slipping.
No, it was already gone.
Rage clawed its way up from somewhere deep and buried, tearing through the fragile restraint I had forced over myself since the moment I stepped into this hall. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the music, the voices, the applause until all that remained was the sound of blood and fury.
I was at my limit.
"Burn it."
The command tore through my mind like a blade.
Silent.
Absolute.
Nox didn't hesitate.
In the next instant, flames exploded across one side of the hall, sudden and vicious fire clawing upward like living things finally set free. Silk banners caught first, curling and blackening as heat devoured them. Golden drapes shrivelled into ash. Candles toppled. A table overturned as nobles recoiled in shock.
Cries shattered the air.
Startled gasps turned into frantic shouting as order collapsed into chaos. Silk and jewels were scattered in every direction as nobles stumbled over one another, desperate to escape a danger that did not yet exist but soon would.
Servants rushed forward. Guards shouted commands.
The music died mid-note.
All eyes turned toward the fire. Exactly as I intended.
For one blazing moment, panic swallowed the hall whole.
And no one.
No one was looking at me anymore.
The fury inside me didn't fade.
It coiled tighter.
Hotter.
Hungrier.
Because the fire wasn't the outlet I wanted.
I didn't want curtains or tables or banners.
I wanted everything to be burned to ashes.
"Let's go. I don't want to stay here even for another minute."
My voice came out quieter than I intended, thin and strained, like something frayed to its last thread. Even speaking felt exhausting, as if the words had to force their way through something lodged deep inside my chest.
Nox didn't argue.
He never did when I sounded like that.
He stepped forward without hesitation and lifted me into his arms as if I weighed nothing at all. I didn't resist. I didn't speak. I just let him carry me away from the noise, the lights, and the suffocating warmth of the hall.
The palace faded behind us in a blur of marble corridors and torchlight gold and white smearing together until it all dissolved into darkness.
Until none of it mattered anymore.
We returned to the dormitory.
Where else was I supposed to go?
Home didn't exist for me anymore.
Not really.
There was no house waiting with warm lights and familiar voices. No doors that would open at my return. No one who would look at me and simply say you're back.
Only borrowed rooms and temporary shelters.
Only places I stayed never places I lived.
I had lost the right to call anywhere home a long time ago.
What did I even have left?
Plans.
Revenge.
Destruction.
Chaos.
Those things, at least, were real. Solid. Reliable. They didn't disappear overnight. They didn't lie. They didn't leave.
The moment we reached my room, I raised a hand and whispered the incantation. Magic spread outward like a silent ripple, brushing against the walls and sinking into the stone.
A barrier sealed the space.
Layer after layer of wards settled into place thick enough to muffle sound, strong enough to keep interruptions away. The air itself seemed to harden as the magic locked into position.
I knew they would come knocking eventually. Vivian. Cassian. and even Damian.
They would ask questions. They would want explanations. They would speak gently, carefully as if choosing the right words might somehow fix everything.
But Damian's words alone had already been too much.
I didn't want explanations.
I didn't want sympathy.
And most of all, I didn't want anyone telling me what family meant.
The word itself felt like a wound that refused to close.
The silence inside the room felt heavy but safe. Like sinking underwater where no voices could reach me.
I walked slowly to the bed and collapsed onto it without bothering to change or remove anything. The mattress dipped beneath me as I curled in on myself, pulling my knees close as if I could somehow make myself smaller.
As if that might make the memories quieter.
I stared blankly at the ceiling until my vision blurred, then drifted around the room.
It looked exactly the same as always.
Plain.
Bare.
Almost empty.
No decorations.
No personal touches.
Nothing suggested anyone truly lived here.
It looked like a room waiting for someone who would never arrive.
Unlike Vivian's room which was warm and cluttered with little things she loved, mine
looked like a place someone stayed only because they had nowhere else to go.
Because that was exactly what it was.
How could I decorate it?
How could I pretend this place meant anything?
This wasn't home. It had never been home. And it never would be. No matter how long I stayed.
No matter how many nights I slept here.
It would never become a place I could return to.
"You okay, princess?" Nox asked softly.
The gentleness in his voice almost broke something inside me.
I shook my head.
"I'm not."
The words felt small too small for the hollow ache pressing against my ribs, too small for the exhaustion weighing down my bones.
Too small for everything I had lost.
He moved immediately, sitting beside me before pulling me into his arms. One hand rested against the back of my head, fingers moving slowly through my hair in steady strokes.
Careful.
Patient.
Like he was afraid I might fall apart if he stopped.
I pressed my face into his shoulder, gripping his sleeve without realizing it, holding on tighter than I meant to.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Gradually, the tightness in my chest loosened. My breathing steadied. The sharp edge of panic dulled into something quieter.
Something heavier.
The storm inside me receded not gone, never gone but pushed back far enough that I could think again.
Pain dulled into something colder.
Something sharper.
Something I understood.
Something I could use.
Revenge was easier than grief.
Hatred was easier than longing.
I closed my eyes for a moment before speaking again, my voice quieter now but steady.
"Let's move forward with our plan."
The softness was gone.
What remained was resolve, because if I couldn't have a home.
Then at least I could have justice.
To be continued....