“Aria.” There’s that tone, the one she learned from Mom. Equal parts disappointment and command. When did my baby sister become so good at wielding guilt?
“Here.” She presses a warm, faintly glowing pastry into my hand, exactly like I used to do for her when these events became too much. “Focus on something else besides plotting everyone’s social demise.”
I let it melt on my tongue, tasting wealth and privilege and everything I pretend to loathe.
“Father always said your defiance would be your downfall,” Luna murmurs, watching as I drain another glass of star-bright champagne. “Mother called it your finest quality.”
The words land too deep. Maybe because they’re both true. Or maybe because Luna can quote them so easily now. And suddenly, I wonder if she’s finally become the daughter they always wanted, while I’ve become the lesson they warned her about.
My gaze moves before I can stop it, sweeping across the ballroom, brushing over perfect postures and curated smiles. These events used to be our playground, Dom and I making private games of other people’s pretensions. Six years of stolen moments and shared secrets, his fingers laced through mine as we’d count Ruby’s former students desperately dodging her notice, or bet on which Vale-enhanced socialite would crack first under the strain of their latest magical facelift. He knew exactly how to make me laugh, and turned soul-numbing obligation into delicious conspiracy.
“Looking for someone?” Luna’s knowing smirk makes me want to dump my drink over her pristine dress.
“Don’t start.”
Her grin only widens. “Oh, please. Your eyes haven’t stopped scanning this room since the second we arrived. And we both know there’s only one person who could make you this . . .” she gestures pointedly at my rigid posture, “wound up.”
“I’m not looking for him.”
The lie scrapes out, brittle and unconvincing. My traitorous gaze flicks through the ballroom again, hunting for a flash of copper hair and smirk that once made everything bearable. Without Dom beside me, whispering wicked observations and plotting elaborate escapes, it’s like wearing armor with the chest plate ripped away. And the worst part? I did this to myself. Pushed away the one person who never tried to make me better than I am. God, when did I become so pathetically dependent on him?
Luna rolls her eyes, like she’s already won. “You forget how well I know you, my dear sister.”
“Aria, darling!”
Vivienne Darkmoor approaches, all midnight-blue silk and polished grace. The fabric pools around her ankles, while the blood-rubies at her throat pulse in time with some unseen rhythm, as if even her jewels refuse to be inanimate under her command.
My stomach twists, unwelcome memories stirring at the edges of my mind. Summer nights on our terrace, my parents deep in discussion with Alexander while Vivienne sat beside me, teaching me how to gut a conversation without spilling a drop of blood.
“We’ve been quite lost without your particular charm.” Her ice-blue gaze drags over me. Then, with a lazy flick of her lashes, she turns to my sister. “And dear Luna. Alexander tells me you’ve been spending quite a bit of time in the lab lately. Such admirable focus. Almost . . .obsessive, one might say.”
Luna beams with pride. “Mrs. Darkmoor, your husband’s guidance has been invaluable. I only hope to honor my parents’ legacy through my work.” She touches Vivienne’s arm with delicate familiarity. “And thank you again for the lovely tea last week.”
Something flashes in Vivienne’s eyes but her smile never wavers. “Yes, well, Alexander does enjoy mentoring promising young talents.” Her gaze catches on Luna’s throat, where a thin silver chain disappears beneath her collar.
She lingers there just a beat too long, and something like amusement curls at the corners of her perfect mouth. Luna’s fingers drift up reflexively, brushing the chain before falling away, too fast. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Vivienne was trying not to laugh.
“Walk with me, Aria.” Vivienne’s fingers wrap around my arm, a gesture that seems maternal to anyone watching, but holds the bite of a serpent’s warning. “Let’s show everyone there are no hard feelings about your absence.” Her gaze slices toward Luna. “I’m sure you can find Alexander if you need anything, dear. He always seems to know exactly where you are these days.”
I let Vivienne guide me away, puzzling over the ice in her tone. Maybe she’s just having a bad evening? After all, this isLunawe’re talking about. She probably brings Vivienne flowers and asks about her charity work. Who could possibly dislike that?
“You’ve been missed,” she says, steering me toward a quiet alcove lined in enchanted ivy. “Though I insisted everyone give you proper time to grieve.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
“Of course, darling. Alexander was quite firm about it. No one was to pressure you.” She studies me with serene detachment. “The penthouse has been comfortable, I trust?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“These gatherings have been dreadfully dull without your wit.” Her fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “You must join me for tea this week, just us women. Like we used to.”
“I’m not sure—”
“Alexander still speaks of how impressed he was, watching you work your way up from filing clerk. Refusing to use the Ellis name.” Her smile curves. “Such determination.”
I shift uncomfortably under her praise. “Being born into something isn’t the same as deserving it.”
Vivienne just hums in response. “Though watching dear Luna try so hard to fill your shoes . . .” She sighs delicately. “It would be such a shame to let your sister’s enthusiasm overshadow your rightful place.”
