Elara walked out of the washroom with carefully measured steps, her pulse still racing beneath her calm exterior. The encounter with Lysandra had been too close—too risky. Had she lingered a moment longer, had she not hidden the glass shard fast enough, there would have been no explaining it away. And Lysandra… she was perceptive. Too perceptive.
The moment Elara stepped back into the grand hall, the ceremony was still in full swing. Rows of noble daughters sat in pristine posture, their eyes fixed on the headmistress, who was delivering her final words of welcome. No one seemed to notice her brief absence.
Except one.
Across the vast chamber, a pair of violet eyes found hers.
Lysandra.
She was seated gracefully in the front row, hands folded in her lap, expression unreadable. But the smirk that ghosted across her lips told Elara everything. I saw you.
Elara quickly looked away, taking her seat once more among the other first-years. The ceremony ended soon after, with the headmistress officially welcoming them as students of Saint Agatha's Academy. A polite round of applause followed before the noble girls began to rise, forming neat lines as they were escorted to their assigned dormitories.
Elara kept her expression serene as she followed the procession through the long, candle-lit corridors. Her thigh still ached from the cuts, the sting a reminder of her carelessness. She had to be more careful. She had barely arrived at the academy, and already she was drawing attention from the wrong kind of people.
She found her dormitory soon enough—a spacious room with elegant furnishings, a grand four-poster bed draped in soft silks, and a large window overlooking the academy gardens. The space was far more extravagant than what she had been used to at the temple, but it was not unwelcomed. More importantly, she had a room to herself. Privacy.
The first thing she did after setting down her belongings was slip into the washroom and unwrap the bandages around her hand. The cuts were not deep, but they were messy—jagged where the mirror shards had torn the flesh unevenly. She ran her fingers over the wounds, pressing lightly until the pain flared fresh and sharp.
A soft sigh escaped her lips. Better.
A knock at the door.
Elara immediately pulled her sleeve down, masking any sign of injury before moving to open the door. Standing outside was a girl with long, strawberry-blonde hair, bright green eyes, and a smile so effortlessly warm it was almost disarming.
"Saintess Elara, right?" the girl chirped. "I'm Seraphina! It's an honor to meet you."
Elara studied her, offering a polite nod. "Likewise."
Seraphina stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, glancing around the room with a cheerful hum. "Wow, they really gave you a nice one, huh? Well, I guess that's to be expected."
Elara tilted her head. "Did you need something?"
Seraphina beamed. "I wanted to introduce myself! We'll be classmates, after all. And…" She leaned in slightly, voice lowering into something more conspiratorial. "I heard you're the one to watch out for. You know, being a Saintess and all."
Elara held her composed smile. "I am simply a student like any other."
Seraphina giggled. "Oh, come on. No need to be so humble." Her eyes flickered with something playful. "But, if we're going to be friends, I suppose I should warn you."
Elara raised an eyebrow. "Warn me?"
Seraphina leaned in even closer, lips curling into a mischievous grin. "You've already caught Lysandra's attention."
A cold weight settled in Elara's stomach. "What do you mean?"
Seraphina flopped onto a nearby chair, swinging one leg over the other. "Lysandra's got an eye for… interesting people. She doesn't bother with just anyone, you know. If she's paying attention to you, it means she finds you entertaining."
Elara kept her expression still, though her fingers twitched beneath the fabric of her sleeve. "That is an odd way to phrase it."
Seraphina chuckled. "Not really. She gets bored easily. So, when someone catches her eye, she plays with them."
Elara frowned slightly. "That sounds… concerning."
Seraphina waved a hand. "Oh, it's not all bad. It's just… once Lysandra sets her sights on you, she doesn't let go easily."
Elara considered this carefully. "I see."
Seraphina grinned. "Well, I suppose you'll find out soon enough." She stood, stretching. "Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. You seem interesting, Saintess."
Elara inclined her head. "I appreciate the visit."
Seraphina winked. "Don't let her eat you alive."
And with that, she was gone.
Elara stood in the silence of her room, her fingers curling into the fabric of her robes. The Academy had already proven itself dangerous, but now… now she had something else to worry about.
Lysandra had noticed her.
And Elara had the sinking feeling that she would not be able to avoid her for long.
That evening, as the lanterns flickered along the Academy halls, Elara found herself wandering. The need had crept upon her again, as insistent as ever. The day had been filled with too much tension, too many eyes upon her. She needed relief.
The Academy was still unfamiliar, but she moved with quiet steps, searching for a secluded place. Somewhere safe. Somewhere she could breathe.
She found herself in the east wing, where few students roamed at night. The corridors were dimly lit, the stone walls cold beneath her fingertips. At the end of the hallway, she spotted an old, abandoned classroom.
Perfect.
She slipped inside, closing the door behind her. The space was dusty, forgotten, but that did not matter. What mattered was the quiet, the solitude. She reached into her robe, fingers brushing against the glass shard she had hidden earlier.
She lifted it to her palm, pressing the edge lightly against her skin.
The first sting sent a shudder through her.
The second cut drew a slow, warm line of crimson.
A breathless sigh.
The tension unwound, her mind clearing as the pain sank into her bones like an anchor. It was grounding, familiar, necessary.
Footsteps.
Elara's body went rigid.
Not again.
The door creaked open, and a silhouette stepped into the dim light.
Lysandra.
Elara barely had time to react before the girl took another step forward, her amethyst eyes gleaming in the dark. A slow, knowing smirk curved her lips as she tilted her head.
"Well," Lysandra murmured, her gaze flickering downward to where Elara had hastily concealed her hand. "Isn't this interesting?"
Elara's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing for an escape.
But Lysandra simply stepped closer, voice dropping into a whisper.
"You really are an interesting one, Saintess."
And this time, there was no mistaking the amusement in her voice.
She knew.