Returning home after all those hellish years meant everything to me.
And yet.
The sight of those people living here without my permission, wearing my name as if it belonged to them, made something slow and poisonous coil in my chest. Rage, honed over years. Not wild. Not reckless.
Refined.
Tempered.
Controlled.
I stood before the doors and felt it, the hostility pooling on the other side. Fear braided tightly with hatred. Desperation dressed up as dignity.
It was intoxicating.
That's right.
Fear me.
Tremble as you realize what you've created and burn in this rage of mine.
Burn in it.
Burn for me.
Burn until I decide you've suffered enough to be granted the mercy of death.
"Missed me?" I asked lightly, a cold smile curving my lips, as though I'd merely returned from a pleasant trip.
The effect was immediate.
Shock locked them in place. Confusion followed briefly, pitiful before fear set in, raw and unmistakable. Their faces were exquisite. I wondered, not for the first time, why I had waited so long.
How terribly inconsiderate of me.
"You… you—how are you still alive?" my uncle stammered.
I tilted my head, examining him with detached interest, like a flawed tool that should have been discarded years ago.
"Uncle," I said calmly, "is that really how you greet your darling niece?"
I let my gaze drift lazily over the room.
"My apologies," I added dryly. "Aunt. And my dearest cousins too. I wouldn't want anyone to feel excluded."
"You're no niece of mine!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his own terror.
I smiled.
"I was," I replied. "And unfortunately for you, I still am."
My gaze sharpened, my voice dropping not louder, but final.
"And I am the rightful heir of the Florence duchy."
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Delicious.
"You should start counting your days," I continued, stepping forward. "I'll be taking everything back. Every title. Every coin. Every moment of comfort you enjoyed while pretending this name was yours."
I walked past them, then through them, my presence slicing the room apart.
As I passed, I spoke without turning back.
"Engrave this into your souls."
My tone was flat, devoid of any emotions or warmth.
"I will show you no mercy."
A pause. Just long enough to let it sink in.
"After all," I added softly, "I learned that from you."
Their screams echoed from downstairs, raw and furious as they tore the foyer apart in their panic. Furniture splintered. Glass shattered. The sound carried beautifully through the estate.
I could forgive them, I suppose, if they begged. But that has never been who I am.
I don't forgive.
I give false hope. I offer a fragile sense of safety, something warm enough to believe in. And then I watch them break slowly, deliberately right before their eyes as I take them apart piece by piece. Painfully. Patiently.
It's almost an art.
And how I enjoy it.
"Why are you smiling like a demon?" Nox asked beside me.
"I was imagining giving them hope," I replied lightly, "and then killing it along with them."
He snorted. "You evil genius. That's why no one ever got you out on the battlefield."
I hummed. "Enough about them. Tell me, how do I look?" I asked, smoothing my dress. "Does anything need fixing?"
Nox studied me for a moment, then smirked. "Do a twirl."
I turned once, fabric flowing softly around my legs.
"You look perfect," he said, smiling gently. "Don't forget the gifts."
"How could I?" I exhaled slowly.
I stepped toward the door.
Knocking felt pointless. I knew exactly what waited for me on the other side. Still, I knocked anyway. Some habits never die.
I straightened my posture. Lifted my chin.
I had to smile.
No—
I needed to.
"Your big sister is here," I said brightly as I entered. "It's my little puppies' fourteenth birthday."
The silence answered me, as it always did.
No matter how desperately I waited for a response, none ever came. And that—that—was what kept breaking me. The ache never dulled once. Never softened.
"I brought you two gifts," I continued.
My voice cracked despite myself.
Fourteen years old.
They should have been taller by now. Louder. Annoying. Arguing with me. Growing into their own people.
Instead, they were still three.
Frozen in time from that day.
I walked between the beds and sat down slowly, taking their small hands in mine. They were here yet not really here.
"Please," I whispered, bowing my head. "Please wake up. Even if it's just for one day."
My grip tightened, knuckles trembling.
"Just one day. I'll give you anything. I'll do anything. Everything. So please wake up even if it's for a few minutes."
There was no answer.
I stayed there for a long time, long enough for the rage to drain out of me, leaving only exhaustion and grief in its place. Long enough for the mask to slip when no one was watching.
Eventually, Nox spoke softly behind me.
"It's time to go."
I nodded, though my body resisted every movement.
I placed the gifts gently beside their beds, squeezed their hands one last time, and stood.
I left the room smiling again.
Because demons don't cry.
And because if I stop smiling, I might not be able to walk away next time.
Because demons don't cry.
Because emotions are wasted on something like me.
And yet, I still force myself to feel them.
Because if I ever stop smiling, if I ever let the mask fall completely, I might not walk away. I might do something irreversible. Something even I would regret.
So I smiled.
With a heart weighed down by lead, I descended the stairs, intent on leaving quietly. Peacefully.
It seemed someone else had very different plans and didn't cherish their very short lives.
They blocked my path.
I sighed, slow and tired, already bored. "What do you think you're doing?"
"You," my aunt shrieked, her voice sharp with hysteria. "Where the hell did you hide the ring?"
I lifted my chin, posture immaculate, gaze glacial. "You shouldn't be greedy, Aunt," I replied coldly. "And you certainly shouldn't covet what was never yours."
I stepped past her.
She grabbed my shoulder.
"You're just like your father," she spat, fingers digging in, "and vulgar like your mother. What are you hiding in those rooms you locked?"
My smile didn't falter, but my voice changed.
"Let go," I said softly, "while I'm still being polite."
"Tell me!" she screamed.
That was the moment my patience ran out.
"I have no time for filth like you," I said, my voice dropping into something cold and dark. "Zion."
"As you command, my Liege."
The sound was wet. Sharp. In a blink, her wrist hit the marble floor.
Her scream tore through the foyer, raw and animalistic. Blood sprayed, warm against the back of my neck, soaking into my dress. I didn't flinch. I didn't even blink.
I turned slowly, crimson dripping down my skin like an accessory.
"You should have listened," I said calmly, looking down at her crumpled form as my cousins rushed to hold their shrieking mother. "I warned you nicely."
My gaze swept over them, dismissive, absolute.
"And do not concern yourselves with areas you no longer have access to," I continued. "After all—"
A pause. A faint, cruel smile spread across my face.
"You are merely guests in my house."
Silence followed.
"One more thing," I said softly.
Before anyone could react, my hands closed around my cousins' wrists and I lifted them clean off the ground. Their weight meant nothing to me.
"You don't get to insult my parents," I continued, my voice calm, "and expect to walk away unscathed."
I tightened my grip.
Bone gave way with a sickening crack.
Their screams pierced the air raw, shrill, desperate. Music to my ears. The sound of terror was unmistakable, and it was delicious. My aunt's face drained of colour as she watched her precious children writhe, their eyes wide with disbelief and pain.
That fear, the kind that sinks deep and never leaves, would stay with them forever. Etched into their hearts. Branded into their minds.
I hated them for dragging my parents' names through high society like gossip to be trampled on.
I hated them for destroying everything my mother and father had built.
I hated that they dared to speak of them at all.
I released my grip and let the children collapse to the floor.
"Remember this," I said, turning away. "I won't be lenient next time."
I didn't look back.
I left them there broken, sobbing, and finally understanding.
Outside, the air felt heavier.
I needed to go somewhere. Anywhere.
But the truth settled quietly in my chest.
I had nowhere to call home.
Even if this estate bore my name, no one waited for me inside it. No warmth. No welcome. Just echoes and ghosts.
"Nox," I murmured, my voice losing its edge. "Carry me. At least until halfway."
He didn't question it.
He gathered me into his arms gently, carefully, as if I might shatter if he wasn't careful. I buried my face against his chest, fingers curling into his clothes. His warmth seeped into me, steady and real, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe.
I loved how safe his arms felt.
How quiet everything became there.
"I don't want to go back to the academy," I said softly.
"Then shall we go somewhere else?" he asked.
I shook my head slowly. "No. Let's go back to the academy. Being there or anywhere else won't change the outcome."
"What if," he said lightly, though his arms tightened just a little, "today turns out to be different?"
I gave a hollow smile, unseen. "As if. Nothing ever changes. You know that."
"We'll see," he replied, a soft laugh in his voice.
I closed my eyes.
And let him carry me forward anyway.
By the time we returned and I had changed back into my uniform, the sun was already sinking toward late afternoon. The halls were quieter, bathed in that lazy golden light that made everything feel deceptively peaceful.
I should have been heading to Cael's class. Should being the key word. I very much did not want to go.
And yet my feet were moving on their own.
I glared down at them in betrayal. "You… I swear, I won't let you off easily. The moment I get my hands on you, you're dead."
"What are you talking about?" came the infuriatingly calm reply, "I'm not doing anything."
"Stop feigning innocence," I snapped, trying to dig my heels into the floor. My legs ignored me completely. "Who else is there besides you who can control my body like this?"
"If you had gone quietly as I told you to," he said pleasantly, "I wouldn't have had to resort to this."
"I don't want to go there," I protested, clasping my hands together dramatically as if that might somehow override mind control.
Silence.
Then, dry as ever: "You're currently walking."
"I can feel that," I hissed. "I'm being dragged against my will."
I tried another tactic.
I softened my voice, letting it drop into something sweet, tragically cute. "Come on. Just this once. You can let me skip. I'll be good. I'll behave. I'll even… not threaten anyone today."
"That's not a convincing offer."
I tilted my head slightly as I walked, batting imaginary lashes at absolutely no one. "What if I promise to smile more?"
There was a pause. A dangerous one.
For a moment, hope flickered.
Then—"Nice try."
My shoulders slumped. "Cruel. Heartless. You're worse than the demon king."
"You're already halfway there," he said cheerfully.
I groaned as my body continued its traitorous march forward. "I hope you know I'm holding a grudge."
"Oh, I'm counting on it."
I grumbled the rest of the way, muttering under my breath while my feet carried me forward. Nox, the traitor, kept laughing quietly to himself, thoroughly enjoying my suffering.
'If only you knew, I'm doing this for you, Lia. You can't keep relying on me alone.'
I scoffed inwardly. As if that would change anything.
Everyone hated me. Even if I attended the class, it wasn't as though I could do anything other than sit there and exist. Silent. Unwanted. Tolerated at best.
"Miss Cecilia," Cael's voice cut through my thoughts the moment I stepped inside. "You're finally here. Would you mind telling us why you're late to my class?"
I froze.
That was… strange. He had never questioned me before. Not once. Why now?
"I wasn't feeling very well," I said after a pause. "I'll just go sit quietly."
The room reacted instantly.
A collective gasp rippled through the class, sharp and unmistakable.
I frowned. What now?
"Miss Cecilia," Cael said carefully, "if you're sick, you may leave."
"No," I replied, more firmly than I felt. "I'm fine."
Another wave of gasps swept through the room, louder this time. Whispers followed, buzzing like insects in my ears.
Why is everyone gasping today?
"Someone guide Miss Cecilia to the benches," Cael instructed. "She needs to rest."
"I can walk there myself," I said, irritation creeping in. "There's no need to bother someone else for this."
That was when a group of students spoke up, voices overlapping.
"Instructor, that's an imposter."
"The real Cecilia would've ignored you."
I blinked.
…What?
I didn't bother responding. Whatever fantasy they were indulging in wasn't my problem. I moved toward my usual corner, the farthest bench, the place where no one ever sat beside me. Cael hesitated only briefly before resuming the lecture, as though forcing normalcy back into the room.
I sank onto the bench and closed my eyes.
Leaning back, I braced myself on my arms, staring up at nothing, letting my thoughts drift wherever they pleased. For a few moments, there was only Cael's voice, distant and dull, like noise bleeding through walls.
Then laughter.
Soft at first. Then louder. Warm. Genuine.
Students around me whispered and chuckled, trading stories about their families. About letters from home. About mothers who scolded them, fathers who worried, and siblings who annoyed them senseless.
Each word carved into my chest.
I had a family too.
I still did.
And yet, I couldn't be with them.
The ache spread, slow and merciless, settling deep in my bones. I swallowed, my throat tightening. I shouldn't be here. I should leave. But… where would I even go?
I wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, but there was no place waiting for me. No place where I truly belonged.
Should I go to Vivian and Cassian? The thought surfaced weakly, desperate for comfort.
I didn't realize I had stood up until my body was already moving.
The class faded behind me, footsteps carrying me forward as if guided by something I didn't understand. I followed it without resistance, feeling numb and hollow, until the familiar corridor came into view.
I stopped.
In front of Damian's office.
"What am I doing here?" I whispered, the trance finally breaking as I stared at the door, my reflection faintly staring back at me.
I didn't have an answer to the question I had asked myself.
That alone should have been reason enough to leave.
I turned, fully intending to walk away before I got caught before someone dragged me into another conversation I didn't have the strength for. Damian's voice reached me before I could escape.
Damn it.
"I can't believe you actually came to visit me."
"I thought you were mad at me," he continued lightly, a hint of joy in his tone. "I figured you wouldn't come again."
I sighed and sat down despite wanting to leave.
"And," he added far too proudly, "I even brought a bunch of stuffed bears for you."
I stared at him blankly.
"…Ah. I forgot about that."
"If you forgot, then let's not bring it up ever again." He pushed a plate toward me. "Here. Cookies."
I took one automatically, more out of habit than appetite.
"Lia," Nox said suddenly, his voice gentle, "I'm heading back to the dorm."
"What?"
The word left me too quickly. Too sharp.
I didn't know why, but panic surged through me, sudden and overwhelming, as the ground had vanished beneath my feet.
"Why?" My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "I—I was joking when I said I'd hold a grudge. I didn't mean it. Please don't leave me."
My voice cracked, splintering with every word.
"Please don't…"
"Lia, listen to me."
"Please. Please. Please."
"Lia—"
"Please."
"Stop spiralling, you stupid brat," he snapped, dumping ice-cold water on me.
The panic faltered.
"Are you calm now?"
I nodded stiffly.
"Good." His voice softened immediately. "I'm not leaving you. I never will." He pulled me into a hug, "I'm just going back to the dorm to check on the frost dragon."
My fingers clenched his clothes.
"And when you come back," he continued, resting his chin lightly against my head, "I'll be there. Waiting."
"…Promise?" I whispered.
"Promise." then added, "And the least you can do is try to make amends."
Both Damian and I froze.
Of all the times for him to say something like that.
"You knew?" Damian asked slowly, his gaze sharpening as it shifted to me.
"…Yes." I looked away.
"Since when?"
"Since the day you read the letter my father left you."
His breath caught. "You knew all along… then why didn't you say anything?"
I swallowed.
"How could I?" I said, "We're practically strangers." My fingers curled into my sleeve. "I kept visiting because I felt safe here. Comfortable. That was all."
My voice lowered, almost disappearing.
"Other than that… I had no reason."
The silence that followed was awkward and heavy, pressing down on us both. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved. It wasn't the comfortable kind of quiet, it was the kind that stretched, fragile and tense, as if one wrong word might shatter it completely.
The only sound was the soft rustling of the curtains as the evening breeze slipped through the open window, stirring fabric and shadows alike. The light shifted slowly across the room, inch by inch, marking the passage of time we both pretended not to notice.
I kept my gaze lowered, afraid that if I looked up, I might see something I wasn't ready to face. Regret. Pity. Understanding. Any of them would have been unbearable.
And so we stayed there, suspended in that fragile stillness, letting the silence say everything neither of us dared to voice.
Damian was the first to move. He didn't speak right away. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, "…You know," he said at last, voice quieter than before, "most people would've said something. Even out of pity."
"I'm not most people," I replied flatly.
"No," he agreed. "You're really not."
He looked at me then, really looked. Not as an instructor, not as someone responsible for me, but as a man facing something he didn't quite know how to handle.
"You felt safe here," he repeated slowly. "And you still chose not to say anything."
"Yes."
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Do you have any idea how many times I replayed that day? Wondering if I'd missed something. If I'd read too much into the letter. If I was projecting guilt where there was none."
"I wasn't your responsibility," I said. "Not then. Not now."
Damian's gaze sharpened.
"You keep saying that like it'll make it true."
I stiffened. "It is true."
"Is it?" He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "Then why are you here, Lia?"
The question struck deeper than I expected.
"I don't know," I admitted quietly. "I didn't even realize I'd walked here."
"Funny how your feet know where to go even when you don't," he murmured.
I hated that he was right.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The late afternoon light filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room. It felt… peaceful. Too peaceful. Like the calm before something cracked.
"I didn't come here to burden you," I said at last. "Or to reopen old wounds."
"I know," Damian replied immediately. "You came because you were tired."
My fingers trembled.
"Tired of being strong," he added softly. "Tired of carrying everything alone."
I let out a quiet laugh, thin and hollow, the sound breaking before it could become real. "That's…" I swallowed, the words scraping on the way out. "That's not something you should ever say to me."
"And yet," he said gently, "someone has to."
I looked away.
"I don't belong anywhere," I whispered. "Not the academy. Not that house. Not even… here."
Damian stood then, slowly, deliberately. He didn't touch me. Didn't crowd me. Just stood close enough that I could feel his presence.
"Then stay," he said simply. "Not forever. Not as an obligation. Just… stay here when it gets heavy."
I shook my head. "I don't know how."
"That's fine," he replied.
For the first time that day, my chest ached in a way that wasn't sharp.
Just tired.
To be continued....