As we made our way through the winding path toward the academy, I could feel their footsteps falling into rhythm with mine. Soft laughter curled through the breeze like music, light and melodic and completely different from the silence that once filled my days.
It was terrifying.
It was perfect.
Lillian's hand brushed against mine every so often—not holding, not clinging, just present. Like she didn't need to make a show of claiming me, because she already understood something deeper: she didn't need to grip what would come back to her willingly.
Claire bounced beside me, practically vibrating with ideas. "Okay, okay, hear me out—what if your dress was made of actual blooming petals? Like, enchanted to shift colors depending on your mood!"
Camille raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "So you want her to glow like a seasonal emotion chart?"
Claire beamed. "Exactly!"
"I think Sera might combust," Tessa said quietly, the corner of her mouth twitching just slightly—her version of a smirk.
"I'd help her pick something more… grounded," Camille offered, tilting her head, her platinum hair catching the light. "Elegant. Subtle. Something that makes you look like the main character of every room you walk into."
I groaned softly, already feeling the heat rise in my face. "It's just a school event…"
"It's the Spring Formal," Diana corrected, appearing at my other side as if summoned by embarrassment. "There's nothing just about it. Everyone will be there. It's practically the academy's answer to a royal ball."
"Oh, fantastic," I muttered.
Diana smiled at me, amused. "Don't worry. You'll have your entourage to fend off the undesirables."
"She means us," Claire stage-whispered with a grin.
"Obviously," Diana replied smoothly.
We reached the front steps of the academy just as the first bell rang, signaling the start of morning classes. A few students already loitered nearby, their gazes briefly flicking to our group—some curious, some amused, a few… uncertain. The heroine and the supposed villainess, walking side by side. Surrounded by the most powerful and adored girls in school. It probably looked like something from a storybook.
But it wasn't.It was real.It was mine.
As the others began filing into the main building, Lillian lingered behind with me on the steps, our classmates dispersing into the halls.
She glanced over at me, her soft green eyes catching the morning light. "Are you alright?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Just… taking it in."
A pause.
"I know it's still scary," she said gently. "Letting people close."
"It is," I admitted, turning toward her. "But I don't think I want to keep running from it."
Lillian stepped closer, her voice lowering. "Then don't."
She brushed her fingers across my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. It was such a simple gesture, but it held so much. Her gaze never wavered.
"You don't have to choose everything right away," she said. "But if you're going to keep choosing us… we'll keep being here."
Her words settled into my chest like sunlight through stained glass—gentle, but impossible to ignore.
"I'm glad you asked me," I said softly. "To the formal."
Her smile was soft and brilliant. "I meant every word."
I looked away, heat blooming in my cheeks again. "You always say things that make me feel like my heart's going to fall out of my chest."
"That's because you're always holding it too tightly," she whispered, and then—before I could react—she leaned in and pressed the lightest kiss to my temple.
It wasn't possessive. It wasn't dramatic. It was warm. And slow. And patient.
It said: I'm not asking for all of you. Just what you can give.
And gods, I wanted to give her everything.
But I also knew—somewhere in my gut—that the others were waiting too. Waiting to love me in their own ways. Not demanding, not rushing. Just… waiting.
The moment we stepped inside, the sounds of academy life wrapped around us again—footsteps echoing down marble halls, chatter spilling from classrooms, the distant hum of magic flickering in the air like it had a heartbeat of its own. But even with all that noise, there was something different about the way it felt now.
Not chaotic.Not suffocating.
Grounded. Centered.
Because I wasn't walking these halls alone anymore.Because I had people.
Lillian gave me a soft smile and a parting squeeze of my hand before disappearing down the corridor toward her first class, her gown fluttering gently behind her like a ripple of light. As she turned a corner, she looked back one last time—just a glance, a quiet reassurance.
Then she was gone.
And I stood there, for a moment, just breathing.
I didn't even notice Camille approaching until her hand brushed my arm.
"Morning classes," she said with mock dread, falling into step beside me. "Do you think Professor Liora would let me skip if I told her I had an existential crisis in the garden at sunrise?"
I laughed softly. "I think she'd hand you a journal and ask you to document it in detail."
"Mmm. Probably," she agreed. "With citations."
As we walked through the halls, we passed a few students who glanced our way with curious eyes—some surprised, some unreadable. I caught the faintest murmur of, Is that Sera Vandren with Winters?
A few months ago, that would've sent a spike of cold panic through my chest. Now, I barely even flinched.
Camille leaned over slightly. "Ignore them."
"I am."
"Good," she said, then tilted her head, eyes glinting. "Or should I kiss you in the middle of the hallway to make them stop staring?"
I gave her a flat look, but my ears burned anyway. "You're not helping."
Her smile widened, but she backed off with a graceful shrug. "Just offering solutions."
"Please don't."
The teasing didn't stop as we approached the classroom. Claire was already inside, halfway up on a desk arguing with one of the third-years about seating arrangements.
"—no, you can't just switch rows because you 'like the sunlight better.' It's not a window seat, it's an assigned chair!" she declared, arms crossed.
"Morning," I said, stepping in.
She perked up instantly, hopping off the desk and bouncing over. "Sera! Tell him I'm right."
"You're… not wrong," I said diplomatically, earning an exaggerated groan from the upperclassman and a victorious cheer from Claire.
"See?" she said, grabbing my arm. "You're so dependable. What would the academy do without you?"
"Probably explode," Camille muttered, sliding into a seat nearby.
Diana arrived moments later, a perfect picture of elegance with a satchel in one hand and a clipboard in the other. "Sorry I'm late," she said to no one in particular. "Someone had the audacity to block the stairs. I made them cry."
I blinked. "Wait—what?"
She waved a hand. "Metaphorically."
"...I don't believe you."
Tessa slipped in quietly after her, greeting us with a slight nod. She chose the spot nearest the back, her eyes scanning the room like she always did—never missing anything, even when she said nothing at all.
As we settled in, I realized something strange and wonderful had happened.
This room, this place that once felt sharp-edged and unfamiliar… felt like home.
Not because it was easy.Not because everything was perfect.
But because they were here.And they made everything warmer.Easier to carry.
Class began with the soft flick of Professor Liora's wrist, the doors shutting behind her with an almost ceremonial hush. Her presence always felt like moonlight—elegant, cool, and distant. But beneath that ethereal grace was someone who saw everything, even what you tried to hide.
She stood at the front of the room, her long robes catching the light with each movement, and smiled just slightly as she scanned the classroom. Her eyes lingered on me for half a second longer than anyone else's.
"Good morning, everyone," she said, voice smooth as ever. "Let's begin."
I sat straighter, trying not to overthink that glance. But of course, the moment I opened my notes—
"You're fidgeting," Camille whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.
I glanced at her. "I'm not."
"You are," Claire said from the other side, balancing her chin in her palm. "You do that thing with your pen when you're overthinking."
My eyes flicked down to my hand. I was, in fact, twirling the pen so fast it might've become a weapon if left unchecked.
Tessa didn't speak, but she gave me a slow side-eye that said she agreed.
I sighed quietly, dropping the pen and folding my hands on the desk instead.
Across the room, Diana caught my eye and tilted her head, mouthing a silent, smug "Need help?"
I shook my head firmly.
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.
Professor Liora began her lecture, and to her credit, her voice alone was enough to command the room. Today's topic was magic channeling through emotional resonance—how strong emotions could amplify or, in rare cases, disrupt a spell. It wasn't lost on me that more than half of the girls in this classroom had been tangled up in some kind of emotionally chaotic magic within the last two weeks.
Liora's eyes flicked to me again as she said, "Emotions can either deepen your connection with your magic... or drown it entirely. The difference lies in control."
She didn't say my name. She didn't need to.
I felt Diana smirk beside me, felt Lillian's gaze glance over her shoulder from a few rows up, felt Camille shift just slightly in her seat.
I straightened again, jaw set.
Control.
That had been the battle since day one, hadn't it?
Not just magical control. Emotional. Personal. The control to be who I wanted to be, not who the original Sera Vandren had been. Not who the novel wrote her as.
Who I was becoming.
Professor Liora moved on, assigning partner exercises to demonstrate minor resonance manipulations. "You may work with anyone you're comfortable with," she added pointedly.
Half the room turned to look at me.
I let out a slow breath.
Camille, already stretching lazily, looked at me like she'd been waiting. Diana smirked and raised her hand. Claire was halfway to vaulting over a desk. Tessa stood up without a word and started walking over.
Then Lillian turned around, serene and glowing.
And she said, "She's working with me today."
They all froze.
The air shifted.
Diana arched an eyebrow, amused but curious.
Camille paused mid-stretch, hand still in her hair.
Claire blinked, one foot on the chair.
Even Tessa stopped moving, her expression unreadable.
I looked at Lillian. Her expression was calm, her tone polite, but there was a quiet steel in her voice that said this wasn't a request.
It was a statement.
The room didn't argue. No one dared.
Lillian walked over, her skirt whispering against the polished floor, and stood beside my desk, offering her hand with a graceful tilt of her head. "Shall we?"
I hesitated. Just for a moment. But then I slipped my hand into hers.
Her grip was warm. Certain.
Together, we walked to the center of the room, all eyes following us—not with hostility or judgment, but with something quieter. Curiosity. Interest. And just a bit of awe.
Because this wasn't the cold, villainous noble girl they once feared.
And it wasn't the perfect, untouchable heroine either.
It was us.
Two girls, standing side by side.Learning. Growing. Becoming.
When we reached our place in the center, Lillian looked at me and whispered, just low enough so only I could hear:
"You're stronger than you think, Sera. Don't hold back with me."
My breath caught.
Because she didn't mean just the magic.
And for the first time that day, I smiled.
"I won't."