As soon as she took her seat, Rina stood up, knowing her turn was next.
"The next contestant: Princess Karina Vershi!"
She walked up the stage in her elegant gown, every step echoing like the ticking of an execution clock. Turning toward the audience, she placed her fake sheet music aside and gently touched the piano keys — as if soothing old wounds.
Then, the music began.
Her fingers danced across the ivory, spilling out a melody dark and hollow, yet hauntingly beautiful. Each note carried pieces of her buried pain, her silenced anger, her fragile strength.
The hall fell into complete silence, not even a breath dared disturb the air.
When the final note faded…
Applause.
It burst like a storm. The audience rose to their feet, their faces glowing with awe.
From the corner of her eye, Rina saw Sina shrinking in her seat — trembling hands hidden under the folds of her pale blue dress, eyes dimmed with disbelief.
As Rina walked past her, she leaned down slightly and whispered:
> "Real talent can't be stolen… it burns on its own — or dies forever."
---
Gold letters danced in the air — the announcement of the winners.
And there it was, shining on the board like a delicate star among giants:
Third place — Princess Karina Vershi.
A smile bloomed on her lips. The third star might not be the closest to the sun, but it still shimmered proudly in her sky.
She received her prizes — treasures from a dream:
a colorful golden gown that gleamed like liquid sunset, every fold kissed by the light, and a matching jewelry set that sparkled like laughter caught in crystal.
No, she wasn't first. Nor second.
But she held her trophies with quiet joy, whispering to herself:
> "Maybe dreams don't have to win to be real."
Her heart hummed with contentment — a song only she could hear.
> "Not everyone who reaches the top finds happiness… and not everyone who stays below is lost."
She looked up, her eyes soft but steady.
Real success, she thought, begins the moment you love what you already have — even as you keep reaching for the stars.
---
The next morning, sunlight spilled into Osana's room — a place smelling faintly of old books and herbal tea.
Rina sat quietly across from her grandmother, who was rummaging through a small wooden box.
Osana smiled and said,
> "Look, Karina… I kept this for you."
Inside lay a kimono — soft, delicate, and folded with care.
Rina's eyes widened as she touched it.
> "Really? It's beautiful! I didn't think it would look like this!"
Osana chuckled softly, taking a sip of her tea.
> "I know your taste well. Pink suits you perfectly."
Rina stood and spun in front of the mirror, giggling.
> "Oh my, it actually looks amazing on me!"
Her grandmother laughed.
> "You look ready for a ball, not a simple visit to your old grandma."
Rina sat beside her, still smiling, then glanced at a framed picture of her late grandfather.
> "Good thing we take after you, not Grandpa," she said teasingly.
After a small pause, she asked quietly,
> "Grandma… why are we so distant from the rest of the Vershi family? Father's cousins, for example?"
Osana sighed softly before answering.
> "Ah, they didn't approve of my marriage to your grandfather. They always married within their own circle — marrying someone from another continent was unthinkable for them. The Vershis were… proud. Ruthless."
Rina frowned slightly, regretting the question, but Osana smiled with calm confidence.
> "Do you think I cared? Never. I lived happily and built a new line from our blood. Now they're the ones who regret it."
Rina laughed, admiration glowing in her eyes.
She wished she could be like her — strong, grounded, untouchable.
Then suddenly, she remembered something and said eagerly,
> "Grandma, could you tell me about my mother?"
Osana's eyes softened; she looked out the window at the clear blue sky.
> "Do you see how peaceful the sky is today? That's exactly how Rivelina's heart was."
Rina smiled faintly, imagining the mother she had never known.
> "She wasn't my daughter by blood," Osana continued, "but she was my daughter in every way that mattered. We understood each other perfectly. She was gentle… and brave. But she's gone now — as we all will be one day."
Rina felt warmth spread through her chest, comforted by the tenderness in her grandmother's voice.
After a short silence, Osana looked up from her book and said playfully:
> "I haven't seen you visit Ron in a while. Why don't you? Or are you too grown up now?"
Rina's eyes widened.
> "Huh? No! I actually want to!"
Osana smiled.
> "Then go ahead, my dear."
Rina jumped up, hugging her grandmother tightly before kissing her forehead.
> "Thank you! I'll go right now!"
She dashed out of the room, her laughter echoing through the corridors.
Osana shook her head with a soft chuckle.
> "That girl… I thought she'd calm down as she grew up, but she's exactly like Yuri."
Down the hallway, Rina's joy was palpable — until she suddenly ran into Sina.
At first, she tried to walk past her, pretending not to notice. But as they crossed paths, Sina deliberately bumped into her.
The cup of hot cocoa in Rina's hand spilled all over her new kimono.
She froze, her eyes wide with disbelief, then turned toward Sina with rising anger.
> "Are you blind? You did that on purpose!"
Sina smirked coolly.
> "You were the one running, Karina."
Rina clenched her jaw, fury burning behind her eyes.
> "Don't act innocent. You're pathetic."
Sina rolled her eyes and said,
> "It's not a big deal. Just change your clothes."
Her tone was light — but the words cut deep.
It wasn't about the spill; it was about the disrespect. About ruining something precious.
As Sina turned to leave, Rina stopped her, snatched the remaining cup from her hand — and poured it right back on her dress.
> "Oh," she said coldly, "you can change too."
Sina's eyes blazed with fury, and she was just about to scream at Rina when—
Footsteps echoed behind them, followed by Carla's startled gasp.
"What are you girls doing?!" she cried, rushing toward them, her face a mix of confusion and alarm.
Before she could say more, Rina turned sharply toward Sina, her voice low, trembling with a strange calm that was far more terrifying than anger.
"Try that again, Sina," she said coldly, "and I'll tear you apart... feed what's left of you to the wolves."
Carla froze, the blood draining from her face at the violence in Rina's tone.
"Rina!" she exclaimed. "No matter what happened, don't say things like that! You're still just a child!"
But Rina didn't answer. Her expression stayed blank, almost detached, as she brushed past them, her footsteps heavy with unspoken rage.
Carla let out a long sigh, watching her go.
"Wait—weren't you calling for me just now?" she asked, her voice softening.
Rina paused at the end of the corridor, her shoulders tense. For a moment, silence stretched between them like a fragile thread. Then she muttered under her breath, her tone cold and weary,
"I don't need anything. Just… stay out of my business."
The words stung, sharper than any blade.
Carla's eyes dimmed, but she said nothing.
If only she knew what storms Rina had endured—what scars still bled beneath that calm mask—she would have never spoken at all.