LilaThe package was small—no larger than a folded napkin—but it gleamed like treasure in Emma’s hands.We sat in the lounge, the windows cracked to let in the early light. Morning wind carried the scent of fresh lemon blossoms from the courtyard, soft and sharp all at once. My tea sat cooling on th
LilaIt was like Emma had become a ghost. I searched for her everywhere but after an hour it was clear she wasn’t in any of the usual places, or any unusual ones either.So I settled into the archives to do a little light brooding and maybe learn a little more before the next trial, whatever it woul
I sat on one of the low, cushioned benches by the wall, arms wrapped around my knees, fingers absently tracing the embroidery on my gown. The moisture in the air clung to my skin, kissed my throat and collarbone, but couldn’t soften the burn sitting in my chest.The ranking hadn’t changed everything
LilaThe candle on my nightstand had burned down to a stub, its flame trembling like it, too, wasn’t sure whether it should keep going.I lay on my side, fully dressed atop the blankets, my hair still damp from rinsing off the bathhouse steam. The air in my room had cooled, but heat still clung to m
LilaThe candle had burned down to a puddle, flickering low enough that shadows danced along the walls of my room, stretching long and uncertain.Unable to sleep, I sat cross-legged on the floor, the marble cool against my legs even through the thin fabric of my nightdress. The original letter reste
Now, sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, catching on the edges of the candle wax I hadn’t cleaned up and the corner of parchment still poking out from beneath my pillow. I shoved it back under to hide it from myself.I dressed slowly, my hands a little clumsy as I pulled on a soft, neutral
LilaWhen my boyfriend Noah’s lips brushed against mine, he murmured my stepsister’s name.“Elena…” he moaned into my mouth.The name hit me like a slap, and I instantly pulled away.“You said Elena,” I whispered, each syllable cutting through my heart like a blade.Noah’s eyes widened in horror. He
LilaI followed Alpha Henry down the long, dimly lit corridor toward the meeting room, my stomach twisting into knots. The scent of polished wood and faint cigar smoke lingered in the air, making it hard to breathe. But that could have been my nerves. Just as we reached the heavy oak doors, he turn
Now, sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, catching on the edges of the candle wax I hadn’t cleaned up and the corner of parchment still poking out from beneath my pillow. I shoved it back under to hide it from myself.I dressed slowly, my hands a little clumsy as I pulled on a soft, neutral
LilaThe candle had burned down to a puddle, flickering low enough that shadows danced along the walls of my room, stretching long and uncertain.Unable to sleep, I sat cross-legged on the floor, the marble cool against my legs even through the thin fabric of my nightdress. The original letter reste
LilaThe candle on my nightstand had burned down to a stub, its flame trembling like it, too, wasn’t sure whether it should keep going.I lay on my side, fully dressed atop the blankets, my hair still damp from rinsing off the bathhouse steam. The air in my room had cooled, but heat still clung to m
I sat on one of the low, cushioned benches by the wall, arms wrapped around my knees, fingers absently tracing the embroidery on my gown. The moisture in the air clung to my skin, kissed my throat and collarbone, but couldn’t soften the burn sitting in my chest.The ranking hadn’t changed everything
LilaIt was like Emma had become a ghost. I searched for her everywhere but after an hour it was clear she wasn’t in any of the usual places, or any unusual ones either.So I settled into the archives to do a little light brooding and maybe learn a little more before the next trial, whatever it woul
LilaThe package was small—no larger than a folded napkin—but it gleamed like treasure in Emma’s hands.We sat in the lounge, the windows cracked to let in the early light. Morning wind carried the scent of fresh lemon blossoms from the courtyard, soft and sharp all at once. My tea sat cooling on th
DamonThe garden party was a performance. And I was its unwilling centerpiece.Music hummed from the far end of the garden—just loud enough to distract, not so loud it could mask the real conversations happening in whispers behind jeweled fans.I stood beside the advisory circle, a cluster of nobles
LilaThe gardens had never looked more curated.Even the air felt arranged—light, perfumed with blooming roses and honeysuckle, touched with just enough breeze to stir the silk banners strung between marble columns. Golden sunlight filtered through carefully trimmed topiaries and glittered against p
LilaThe trial room smelled like butter and cinnamon—warm, rich, deceptively comforting.Long tables stretched across the marble floor, already dusted with flour. Each station bore a small placard with a candidate’s name and a challenge directive: Create a dessert that reflects your roots.I stared