The book sat on Vaelisâ desk, its presence a quiet enigma in her otherwise organized room. She had examined every inch of it, from the slightly worn cover to the crisp pages inside, but there was no sign of who had sent it. No inscription, no hidden notesâjust the weight of its existence pressing against her mind.
The contents werenât just ordinary literature. The novel was eerily familiar, resembling a story she had once read, yet it had deviations that unsettled her. Characters she knew existed, but their roles had shifted. Certain events were out of place. And most importantlyâVaelis herself wasnât mentioned.
She traced a finger over the title.
Who would send this?
Lucien? It was unlikely. He was the type to play mind games, but this was different. Adrian? No, he had no reason to involve himself in such a cryptic manner. Rowan? Possible, but she doubted he was subtle enough for something like this.
A new player, then?
Her fingers curled around the edges of the book. This wasnât just a coincidence. The novelâs deviations meant something. It wasnât an exact mirror of the world she was inâit was shifting.
And she needed to find out why.
The weight of her thoughts lingered even as she entered her music class. Todayâs lesson was different from the usual compositions they had been working on. The professor had introduced a new styleâone she had never attempted before.
âToday, weâll be exploring improvisational musicâcreating melodies from emotions rather than structured notation.â
Vaelis listened intently as the instructor played a haunting melody on the piano. Unlike rigid classical pieces, this was raw, fluid, unpredictable. It was a style that demanded more than just skillâit required understanding oneself.
Her turn came, and as she stepped up, whispers drifted through the classroom. The Grand Showcase had made her name known. Some watched in curiosity, others in quiet resentment, especially after the sponsors had openly shifted interest from Serena to her.
Vaelis let out a slow breath. The room fell silent.
Her fingers pressed against the piano keys, the first note ringing softly through the air. Unlike rehearsed performances, she let herself feelânot just play. Memories surfaced: the sting of betrayal, the weight of isolation, the silent promise of revenge. Her melody was beautiful yet melancholic, filled with the remnants of a life once discarded.
When she stopped, the room remained still.
Her professor nodded in approval. âThatâwas music with soul.â
A strange warmth flickered in Vaelisâ chest. She wasnât just surviving here. She was living.
Later that evening, Vaelis found herself in the campus café, stirring a cup of tea when someone cautiously approached her table.
âUm⦠do you mind if I sit here?â
Vaelis looked up. The girl standing before her had soft brown hair, bright, hopeful eyes, and an uncertain smile. She wasnât someone Vaelis had spoken to before, but she seemed oddly nervous.
Vaelis gestured to the empty seat. âGo ahead.â
The girl sat down, hesitating before speaking. âI⦠I watched your performance today.â She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve before continuing. âIt was beautiful. Iâve never heard something like that before.â
Vaelis remained silent, unsure of where this was going.
âIâI donât want to bother you,â the girl quickly added, her voice quiet but sincere. âI just⦠I admire you. And, um⦠I was wondering if maybe we could be friends?â
Vaelis blinked.
She wasnât used to people approaching her like this. Most people either feared her presence or envied it. But this girlâshe wasnât offering friendship out of admiration for her reputation or power. It was simply because she liked her music.
It was strange.
And yet, not unwelcome.
Vaelis studied her for a moment before speaking. âWhatâs your name?â
The girl smiled, a little shy but hopeful. âAnna.â
Vaelis nodded, a small smirk forming on her lips. âAlright, Anna. Letâs see if you can keep up.â
A true friend.
For the first time in a long while, Vaelis allowed herself to accept it.