The early morning light filtered through the tall windows of Pleasant Hills Academy, casting a golden glow across the sleek marble floors of the hallway. The air was crisp, almost too perfect, as if the world had been paused in that serene moment. I walked down the hall with measured steps, my heeled boots softly tapping against the polished stone, the soft sway of my tailored navy-blue dress brushing against my legs with every movement.
Today, I had chosen something a little different—something more structured. The fitted dress, with its high collar and delicate gold buttons, hugged my figure with a regal elegance. The deep shade of navy contrasted against the white silk scarf draped around my shoulders, the edges embroidered with golden thread, a small nod to my family's elite status. My hair, usually left loose, was swept back in soft waves, pinned in place with an ornate clip that once belonged to my grandmother. As I glanced at my reflection in the glass doors, the light caught the soft shimmer of gold dust on my eyelids, a subtle touch to my makeup today. Red lipstick—bold but controlled. I had never liked going overboard, after all.
I adjusted the strap of my leather bag, feeling the weight of my pendant under the scarf, cool against my skin. Its presence was comforting, even if I didn't quite understand why. The events of the past few days still swirled in my mind, fragmented and blurry, but I couldn't afford to let that distract me today.
"Sera, wait up!" Leonara's voice rang through the hallway, breaking the calm. I turned to see her hurrying toward me, her steps light and graceful despite the weight of the oversized bag slung over her shoulder. She was dressed in her usual effortless style—high-waisted black trousers and a fitted white blouse, the sleeves rolled up to reveal a collection of bracelets that jingled softly as she moved. Her chestnut hair, now streaked with that reddish tint, was pulled into a loose bun, a few strands framing her face.
I smiled, though my mind wandered to the strange sense of familiarity Leonara's presence always brought me. There was something about her that felt constant, even when everything else around me seemed to shift and blur.
"You're early," I remarked, smoothing a hand over my dress.
Leonara laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Miracles happen, right? But seriously, I wanted to catch you before the big announcement."
I raised an eyebrow. "Announcement?"
Leonara's eyes flickered with something—hesitation, maybe—but she quickly masked it with a smile. "Yeah, about the school competition. You'll see."
Her tone was casual, but there was an underlying tension in her voice. I studied her for a moment, feeling that same pull of curiosity I had been sensing more often lately. There was something Leonara wasn't telling me—something deeper than the usual school gossip. But before I could press her, the bell rang, sending students flooding into the hallways around us.
We entered the main assembly hall, a grand space with high ceilings and arched windows that flooded the room with natural light. The rich mahogany walls were adorned with portraits of past academy heads, their serious expressions watching over the students as if to remind us of the prestige and responsibility that came with attending Pleasant Hills. Rows of dark wooden benches filled the room, the scent of polished wood and fresh flowers mingling in the air, reminding me of the countless events held here—balls, debates, and ceremonies that had shaped the academy's reputation for decades.
The headmistress, Madame Calloway, stood at the front of the room, her tall figure draped in a sharp, tailored gray suit. Her silver hair was pulled back into a sleek chignon, and her glasses sat perched on the edge of her nose, giving her an air of authority that commanded the room's attention.
"Welcome, students," Madame Calloway began, her voice cutting through the low hum of chatter. "Today, we are announcing the academy's annual Leadership and Legacy Competition, a prestigious contest held every year in honor of Pleasant Hills' founding legacy. As you know, this competition selects only the finest students to represent the academy in various intellectual and leadership challenges. The winner receives a scholarship to any institution of their choosing."
The room grew silent, the weight of her words sinking in. This was no ordinary school contest—this was an opportunity that could define one's future, and I could feel the tension in the air as students glanced at each other, measuring their own chances.
Madame Calloway's eyes scanned the room, and for a brief moment, they locked onto mine. "This year, we have selected our top students based on their academic performance, leadership, and extracurricular involvement."
I sat straighter, my hands resting lightly on my lap, but inside, I could feel the familiar knot of anticipation tightening in my chest.
"Seraphine Monte Riego," she announced, her voice carrying across the room. "You have been chosen as a finalist."
I blinked, struggling to process what I had just heard. Me? Of course, a Monte Riego being selected shouldn't have surprised me. Expectations had been woven into the very fabric of my life since birth. The weight of my family's name was something I had learned to carry with grace, but this… this was different. This wasn't just about living up to expectations; this was about proving something, about stepping into a spotlight I hadn't necessarily sought.
I could feel eyes turning toward me, whispers already beginning to spread like wildfire through the rows of students. Of course she was chosen, they were probably saying. The Monte Riego heir. I had heard those murmurs a thousand times before, but now they felt more like daggers than idle gossip.
I felt Leo's hand gently touch my arm in congratulations, but my focus was on the headmistress. I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgment, but I could feel every pair of eyes in the room on me. It was expected, of course—everyone knew who I was, who my family was. I had always felt the pressure that came with the Monte Riego name, but today, it felt heavier.
"Congratulations, Seraphine," Leonara whispered, leaning in closer. Her voice was sincere, but there was something in her eyes—something that didn't match her words. "You'll do great."
I nodded, though my mind was elsewhere. I hadn't planned on entering this competition, but it seemed like the choice had been made for me. A contest that required strategy, poise, and intellect—it wasn't something I could refuse, especially not with the weight of my family's expectations on my shoulders.
After the assembly, Leonara and I walked through the quiet courtyard, the soft rustling of leaves and the distant sound of birds filling the space between us. The towering oak trees provided shade as we strolled, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The scent of blooming roses filled the air from the nearby garden, where students often gathered to study or chat.
"Are you nervous about the contest?" Leonara asked, her voice light but curious.
"Nervous?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I don't allow myself the luxury of nerves, Leonara."
She laughed, though it sounded a bit forced. "Of course not. You're Seraphine Monte Riego—perfection in human form."
I gave her a sidelong glance, catching a flicker of something behind her smile. There it was again—that feeling that she was holding something back. Her words were playful, but there was an edge to them, almost like she was trying to distract me from asking the real questions.
"Leo," I started, my voice lowering slightly, "is everything alright? You've been… off lately."
Her smile faltered for just a moment, but she quickly recovered. "Off? I'm fine. Just busy with family stuff, you know."
I narrowed my eyes, studying her closely. "Family stuff?"
She shrugged, but her eyes didn't meet mine. "Yeah, you know—businesses to run, meetings, the usual."
I wasn't convinced. There was something more to her story, something she wasn't telling me, and the way she avoided eye contact only confirmed it. Before I could push further, the bell rang, signaling the start of class. We hurried back inside, our shoes tapping lightly against the polished marble floors as we moved through the hallways.
As we entered the classroom, the usual noise of students settling into their seats filled the air, but I couldn't shake the unease curling at the edge of my thoughts. Leonara was already at her desk, pulling out her notebook with the same practiced grace, but I caught the way her fingers fidgeted slightly with the pages—nervous, distracted.
I sat next to her, smoothing my skirt as I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She seemed fine on the surface—laughing at a joke someone cracked from the back of the room, chatting easily with our classmates—but I knew Leonara too well. There was something lurking behind her polished smile, something that didn't fit the image she projected.
As our professor entered the room, the low hum of chatter died down, but the tension between us lingered. I knew Leonara wasn't telling me the full story, and with each passing moment, I became more certain that whatever she was hiding was bigger than just "family business."
We were classmates, friends—yet somehow, I felt as if I barely knew her at all.