The weight of the letter sat heavily in my hands as I made my way back to my room in the mansion, the estate bathed in the soft, golden glow of late afternoon. The marble floors of the Monte Riego mansion gleamed beneath the tall windows, framed by luxurious velvet drapes in deep crimson. Outside, the sprawling gardens stretched out, lush and meticulously maintained, with the fountain in the distance reflecting the dying light of the day.
I passed by the grand hallway, its walls adorned with portraits of my ancestors—each one carrying the same regal features that had been passed down through generations. The mansion, with its ornate chandeliers and gilded mirrors, held centuries of history within its walls, and now it seemed to whisper secrets I hadn't yet uncovered.
Once inside my room, I carefully unfolded the letter again. The delicate script, written by my grandmother, wound its way across the paper, but it was the signature at the bottom that gripped me: Royswald. A chill passed through me as I read the words once more, hinting at a long-standing pact between the Monte Riegos and Royswald's family—a bond that went deeper than loyalty.
"The legacy of the Monte Riegos must remain intact. Trust in Royswald—he knows what is at stake."
I sat down at my intricately carved mahogany desk, the soft glow of a crystal lamp casting a warm light over the room's opulence—silk curtains, handwoven rugs, and a bed draped in satin sheets. The letter weighed on my mind as I slipped it into a hidden drawer. For now, it would remain my secret.
The next morning, the weather had shifted dramatically. A thick fog had settled over Pleasant Hills Academy, the rolling mist wrapping itself around the ancient stone buildings and towering oak trees. The pathways leading up to the school were damp, the smell of wet earth and fresh rain filling the air.
I arrived at the academy's private meeting room, where Leonara sat at the long glass table, reviewing the latest dossiers. Today, she wore a tailored navy blazer from Dior, paired with a gold chain necklace that gleamed against her crisp white blouse. Her fingers moved expertly over her iPad, where she had pulled up the profiles of the other contenders.
"Morning, Sera," she said, glancing up at me. "You're in deep thought again."
I shook my head slightly, offering her a smile. "Just going over everything in my head."
We had work to do. The competition was drawing nearer, and the stakes felt higher than ever. The academy's grand room, with its marble floors and arched windows overlooking the foggy courtyard, exuded an air of formality, but beneath that, there was tension. The final days of preparation were upon us.
Before I could dwell too much on the letter, Professor Orlando entered the room. His tailored charcoal suit was impeccable as always, his cufflinks gleaming under the chandelier's light. He carried several thick, leather-bound folders with him, placing them in front of us as he took a seat at the head of the table.
"Good to see you both," he said, his voice filled with authority. "Let's dive in."
He opened one of the folders, revealing detailed profiles of each contender. "This competition isn't just about intelligence or leadership. It's about understanding the people you're up against—anticipating their every move."
His eyes flickered over to me as he slid a file across the table. "Take Lianne War Thornstone—her family's influence stretches far beyond the academy. But she craves control. If you can shake her confidence, it will weaken her position."
Leonara nodded in agreement, leaning in. "People like Lianne rely on image. We can exploit that."
I studied the dossiers, but my mind kept returning to Kieran. His presence in this competition still felt unsettling. There was something about him that I couldn't quite place—something that made me feel as though we were connected in ways I didn't yet understand.
As the meeting drew to a close, the door opened, and Kieran entered the room. His presence seemed to shift the energy, the soft sound of his boots echoing against the marble as he strode toward us. He wore a dark coat, slightly damp from the lingering mist outside, his eyes fixed on me with that same intensity that made the room feel suddenly smaller.
"Am I interrupting?" His voice was calm, but there was something in it that felt charged, like he was waiting for something to happen.
Professor Orlando gestured for him to join us. "Not at all. We were just discussing strategy."
Kieran took a seat across from me, his gaze never wavering. His usual composed demeanor felt different today—he seemed almost expectant, as if he knew something I didn't. The weight of his attention made my pulse quicken.
As Professor Orlando continued to outline the final steps of preparation, Kieran leaned back in his chair, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "It's going to be interesting," he murmured, his voice low enough for only me to hear. "Seeing how everything plays out."
His words sent a ripple of unease through me, but before I could respond, he stood and left the room, leaving behind an air of mystery that I couldn't shake.
After the meeting, I decided to walk through the academy grounds to clear my mind. The fog had lifted slightly, revealing the perfectly manicured lawns and stone fountains, their water glinting in the pale light of the sun trying to break through the clouds. The pathways, lined with hedges and statues, twisted through the academy like a maze of history and secrets.
As I approached the garden near the old stone archway, I saw Royswald standing at a distance, his back straight, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. His tailored suit, a deep charcoal gray, blended with the ancient stone walls behind him, giving him an air of quiet authority.
"Miss Seraphine," he said softly as I neared, not needing to turn around to sense my presence. "I trust you're preparing well."
I hesitated, the memory of the letter fresh in my mind. "Royswald," I began, my voice quieter than usual. "There's something I need to ask you."
He turned to face me, his eyes calm but watchful. "What is it, Miss Seraphine?"
I glanced around, making sure we were alone before I spoke. "I found a letter—from my grandmother. It mentioned you."
His expression remained neutral, though his eyes darkened slightly. "Your grandmother and I shared many correspondences, as you know. Is there something in particular that concerns you?"
There was an unspoken understanding between us, an agreement that some things were meant to remain hidden for now. "Not yet," I said softly, "but soon."
Royswald inclined his head, his gaze never leaving mine. "When the time comes, Miss Seraphine, you will know what you need to. Trust that."