The sunlight filtering through the courtyard's canopy felt warmer today, but it did little to settle the unease twisting inside me. Leonara and I walked in near silence, the weight of the upcoming competition pressing heavily on my mind. My thoughts drifted between the responsibilities of the Monte Riego name and the whispered expectations that clung to me like shadows. I could still hear the echoes of the assembly in my head—the announcement of the contest, the eyes on me, the weight of my family's legacy.
And then, a shift in the air. A presence swept across the courtyard—cool, calculated, and unsettling.
Leonara's voice trailed off, and I glanced up to see her face stiffen, her eyes flickering toward the entrance of the courtyard. A small group of students entered, their voices a chorus of laughter and whispers, but at the center of them stood Lianne War Thornstone.
Her entrance was impossible to ignore. She moved like the world belonged to her, her footsteps so silent it was as though the very ground softened beneath them. Lianne's appearance always struck a stark contrast to the warm sunlit courtyard. Her skin, pale as moonlight, seemed to glow, untouched by the sun's rays. Her long, straight, jet-black hair shimmered like liquid obsidian, cascading down her back without a single strand out of place. Every movement she made caused her hair to ripple with a fluidity that looked almost otherworldly, catching the light in a way that made it shine unnaturally.
Lianne's sharp, angular features were framed perfectly by the curtain of black hair, emphasizing the porcelain-like quality of her skin. She was striking in the way that statues are—cold, flawless, and distant. Dressed in a sleek, fitted dark red blouse that accentuated the sharp lines of her collarbones, paired with a high-waisted black skirt, she exuded an air of sophistication that bordered on regal. A simple silver pendant rested against her chest, reflecting the light like a small, deliberate spark in her otherwise shadowed presence.
Her eyes—cold, gray, and unblinking—locked onto mine, and the smirk that spread across her face was enough to send a chill down my spine. It wasn't the smile of a friend, but the smile of someone who enjoyed watching you unravel.
"Seraphine Monte Riego," Lianne's voice rang through the courtyard, smooth and soft, but with an edge that cut through the chatter around us. The group behind her fell silent, their attention focused on the tension now hanging between us.
"Lianne War Thornstone." I responded with the same cool precision, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. Her name echoed in the space between us, heavy with generations of rivalry and resentment. The Thornstones and Monte Riegos had been on opposite ends of Pleasant Hills' power structures for as long as I could remember, but our paths had rarely crossed so directly.
She glided forward, each step deliberate, her long hair swaying behind her like a dark veil. The other students parted for her as if they were moving away from a storm. Her presence commanded the space, a gravitational pull that left no one unaffected.
"I heard about the competition," she said, her voice deceptively soft, like velvet concealing a blade. "Quite the responsibility, don't you think? Carrying your family's name on your shoulders like that." Her eyes gleamed with something dangerous, something she wasn't quite saying.
I stood straighter, refusing to let her words shake me. "Responsibility is something we Monte Riegos handle well." My voice was measured, controlled, but I could feel the underlying tension stretching taut between us.
Leonara, standing beside me, shifted uncomfortably. Her gaze flicked between us, sensing the confrontation brewing. But I kept my focus on Lianne, reading the challenge in her eyes. This wasn't just about the competition—it was about our families, about history, about power.
Lianne's smile widened, a smile that never reached her eyes. "Is that so? I suppose we'll find out soon enough." She stepped closer, her presence suffocating, as if the air around her had grown colder. "After all, we're both in the competition."
I blinked. Her words hit me like ice water. I hadn't expected this—hadn't prepared for her to be one of the competitors. I kept my face neutral, though I could feel the sudden shift in the room, the realization that this contest was no longer just a test of skill and intellect. It was a battle between legacies.
"Really?" I responded, masking my surprise with the same calm exterior I always wore. "I wasn't aware that the competition required you to announce yourself before it's even begun."
Her gray eyes flashed, and for a brief moment, I saw something darker, something more dangerous lurking beneath the surface. "Oh, I just thought it was important to set expectations early. After all, it's not every day we get to show the Monte Riegos that there's more to Pleasant Hills than their legacy."
My jaw tightened, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. "Well, we'll see how well you live up to those expectations," I said coolly, stepping forward just enough to close the distance between us. The space between us felt electric, the tension crackling in the air. "But I do hope you understand—this competition isn't about family pride. It's about leadership, intellect, strategy. Things not easily bought."
Lianne's expression darkened for just a fraction of a second before she tilted her head, amusement glittering in her eyes. "We'll see about that," she said softly, her voice dripping with something almost sinister. "I have a feeling the competition will reveal more than you expect, Seraphine."
Her words hung in the air like a threat, and with one final glance, she turned on her heel, her impossibly straight black hair sweeping behind her like a curtain of shadow. The group that had followed her trailed after her, their voices muted now, as though they too had felt the weight of her words.
Leonara exhaled beside me, her voice tight. "That was... tense."
I nodded, my gaze still locked on Lianne's retreating figure. "The Thornstones never miss an opportunity to make a statement."
But even as I tried to push the encounter from my mind, I couldn't shake the feeling that Lianne knew more about my family—about our shared history—than she was letting on. There was something in her eyes, something unsettling, as though she held a secret I wasn't ready to uncover.