The Monster of Their Midst

Lila’s P.O.V.

Saturday, 12.27

⸻

It began with envy.

The banquet had ended, but its echoes lingered. Whispers of Daniella’s spell still coiled through the estate like smoke through rafters. Servants bowed deeper, guests sent letters requesting her presence, and even her father regarded her with new weight in his gaze.

For Lila Rose Arison, it was intolerable.

She had built her life upon perfection. She was the jewel of the Arisons, the sun no shadow could obscure. And yet, in the span of a single evening, her younger sister had stolen the breath of every noble in attendance. Daniella, who had been born to linger behind her. Daniella, who had never once been chosen. Daniella, who had dared to shine.

No. Lila would not allow it.

So when Daniella was summoned to demonstrate her spellwork once more in the great hall, Lila insisted she too be given the chance.

“I’ve observed it carefully,” she told her parents, her tone honeyed as always. “Surely, if my sister can wield such magic, I can do the same. I only wish to prove that House Arison’s brilliance shines equally through both daughters.”

The duchess smiled, reassured. “Yes, of course. Show them, my dear.”

Daniella said nothing. She simply watched, arms folded, as her sister stepped forward.

⸻

The circle began to form beneath Lila’s hand, lines of light carving themselves in the air. She had Daniella’s motions memorized, the runes etched into her mind. And at first, the spell seemed to respond, threads of violet flickering in patterns she had imitated.

But ancient magic was not a song to be copied by ear. It was a storm that demanded submission.

Lila’s hand trembled. The runes faltered.

The circle warped.

“What—?” she gasped as the spell lurched violently out of control. A torrent of unstable energy ripped free, tearing across the hall in jagged arcs of light. Servants screamed as the floor cracked beneath their feet, chandeliers swayed, and the scent of burning ozone filled the air.

“Lila!” the duke barked, leaping forward.

But before the magic could consume the hall, Daniella stepped in. With a flick of her wrist, her own circle blazed to life. Where Lila’s had faltered, hers surged — steady, precise, absolute. She seized the wild energy, bent it into form, and collapsed it into nothing more than a breath of wind.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Lila stood frozen, her face pale, her perfect composure shattered. Her hands shook visibly, the false calm of her smile slipping into a grimace.

And then the duchess’s voice rang out, sharp as a whip.

“Lila Rose Arison!”

The hall recoiled. For as long as Daniella could remember, her mother’s tone toward Lila had been soft, indulgent, forgiving. But now it cracked with fury.

“How dare you attempt something so reckless! You endangered this family’s reputation — endangered our lives! Do you have any idea what could have happened if Daniella had not intervened?”

Lila flinched as if struck. “I—I only wished to show that I—”

“You wished to prove yourself, and instead you have humiliated us.” The duchess’s gaze cut like glass. “I will not tolerate such folly again. Do you understand me?”

For the first time, Lila lowered her head in silence.

Daniella watched, a curious calm settling over her. She had imagined this moment for years — her sister faltering, her mother’s adoration faltering with her — and yet now that it had come, she felt no triumph. Only inevitability.

This was the moment Lila realized the truth: she could not win. Daniella had stepped beyond her reach, and no amount of charm or imitation could pull her back down.

The monster they had ignored had grown teeth.

And the family that had caged her could no longer close the door.

⸻

Daniella’s P.O.V

Friday, 1.2

The rest of the holiday passed in uneasy silence. Lila kept to her chambers, her laughter absent from the halls. The duchess threw herself into correspondence, desperate to patch the cracks. And the duke spoke more with Daniella than he ever had in her entire childhood, though his questions always circled back to the same thing: her magic, its origin, its potential.

When at last the day came for Daniella to return to the Imperial Academy, no one tried to stop her.

The carriage ride was quiet. Her family did not gather to see her off; only the steward stood by the gates, bowing stiffly as the horses began their steady trot down the snow-dusted road. Daniella leaned back against the seat, her eyes half-closed.

For once, she did not feel the sting of leaving home.

⸻

At the academy gates, the winter wind greeted her with a rush of familiar scents: parchment, pine smoke, the faint tang of iron from the training grounds. And standing there, bundled in a thick cloak with her hair escaping its pins, was Vivian.

The moment she saw Daniella step from the carriage, her face lit with relief.

“Dani!” She hurried forward, pulling her into a fierce embrace. “You have no idea how dull it’s been without you. I thought I’d go mad if I had to spend another week listening to Clara brag about her family’s estate.”

Daniella let out a soft laugh, surprised at how easily it escaped her. The weight of her family’s halls, the stifling air of comparison and dismissal — it all seemed to fall away at Vivian’s warmth.

“Vivian,” she murmured, returning the embrace. “It’s good to be back.”

Vivian pulled back, studying her closely. “You look different. Stronger, somehow.”

Daniella only smiled.

If Vivian knew what had happened during the break — if she knew the monster House Arison had awakened — perhaps she would understand.

But for now, Daniella was content to let the truth unfold in its own time.

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