Prologue

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Sylviana Vale

15 Years Earlier

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The door of the limousine opens, and a rush of noise fills my ears-people talking, shouting, cameras clicking so fast it sounds like rain. I blink at the sudden brightness, but I remember what Lyra had ingrained in my head that morning. Don't blink. Hold your head high, like a princess.

I take a deep breath and then step out. My shoes click on the ground, and my dress swirls around my legs like it's alive. It's dark red, deeper than any apple I've ever seen, and I feel... important. Like I belong here, even though I've never been anywhere like this before. I can feel all the eyes on me.

But the lights. They're everywhere, flashing so fast it's like the stars fell down just to look at me. My heart starts to thump, and for a second I forget how to breathe.

People are shouting, their voices all mixed together. "Who is she?" "Did Vale get another one?" They've never seen me before, and I don't know what to do, so I freeze. My fingers reach up on their own, looking for my sister. Where is she? And then I feel her hand-cool and soft-and I hold on tight. I look up at her, and there she is, just like always. Her hair shines like snow under the sun, so white it almost hurts to look at. She looks calm, like the lights and noise don't bother her at all. I wish I could be like her.

I straighten my back, just like Lyra told me. You're important, she had cooed. They're all here to see you. So I try. I hold my head high, even though I want to look at the ground. We're here for the gala. Everyone's inside, waiting for us-the kind of people Lyra says are important, the kind who wear fancy dresses and give long speeches.

But my hair starts to feel tight, like someone is pulling it, and I can feel my heart racing. The ribbons used to style it are so pretty, but they tug on my head like they want to fly away. I can't help it; my eyes start to water a little, and I can't think straight.

"Dorie," I whine, squeezing her hand harder. "Can we go home to Elisyum now?" The words spill out before I can stop them, and my voice feels small against all the shouting. "I don't like it here."

I glance around, and everything feels too much-the bright lights, the eyes, the noise. It's all swirling together like a storm. I want to hide, to go back to Elisyum and forget this loud, strange world for just a little while.

Dorie bends down to my height and wipes a strand of loose hair from my face, her glossy lips turning downward at my complaint. "You have to be a good girl for Lyra," she whispers, her words barely audible over the commotion. "If you don't behave..."

The thought of being a bad girl immediately twists my stomach into knots.

The ringing. The screaming. The blood.

I shake my head, trying to push away the scary thoughts. Pain is a weakness. "But Dorie," I plead, my voice shaking, "Can't we just go?"

She doesn't answer right away. Instead, her gaze drifts to the huge glass doors of the manor ahead. They stand tall and grand, but not as big as Elysium. Five figures are waiting there, four kids and one woman -my siblings with Lyra.

I squint, trying to make them out through the bright lights. Orion stands proudly at the front, showing off his navy suit. Just behind him, Ameris, her freshly curled hair already coming undone, is trying to pull a funny face at the cameras. Gideon, in his slightly rumpled outfit, is mimicking her, sticking out his tongue and pulling his ears. And then there's Soren, clutching Lyra's dress tightly, hiding behind her like a shadow.

At the sight of Lyra, I stiffen.

She stands tall and imposing in a stunning gown, the fabric shimmering under the lights. A fur boa wraps around her shoulders, adding to her regal presence. Her graying hair is tied up in an elaborate style, but it's her hawk-like eyes that truly frighten me. They're sharp and piercing, locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart race.

Then, she offers us a slow, unsettling smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

Her gaze draws us in, and wordlessly, we walk the rest of the way to the giant doors. With each step, I can feel my heart pounding, echoing the noise around us. When we finally reach the entrance, Lyra beckons us over, her voice cutting through the commotion.

"Callidora, Sylviana," she calls, her tone sickeningly sweet.

I hesitate, but Dorie nudges me forward. Lyra pats Dorie on the head, and I watch as her expression softens for just a moment. But then, without warning, she bends down and scoops me up into her arms.

Her embrace is surprisingly warm and I feel a rush of confusion. I can't quite relax; I'm unsure if I should be happy or scared. The familiar scent of lavender envelops me, making me want to throw up.

Lyra leans in close, her breath tickling my ear as she whispers something I can't quite hear over the chaos. "You must behave, my vixen. They're watching." The words send a chill down my spine, and I cling tighter to her, feeling both comforted and trapped in her embrace.

The cameras continue to flash brighter than ever, each burst feeling like a thousand tiny stars exploding in my face. I lean closer into Lyra, deciding that she's much better than the scary lights. Her arms wrap around me like a fortress, blocking out the noise and the chaos, if only for a moment.

"Smile for them, dear," she says, her voice smooth yet sharp as she digs her nails into my arm. I cringe slightly at the action. I think I'm supposed to look happy.

Lyra straightens up, looking out at the crowd with a beaming smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Everyone, meet my new daughter, Sylviana Vale. Isn't she a gem?"

A chorus of camera clicks responds, and I can hear a few murmurs of admiration, but it feels fake, like a mask.

"She's a little shy, but we'll bring her out of her shell!" Lyra continues, laughter bubbling in her voice. "Just look at her beautiful green eyes!"

I shift uncomfortably, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. I'm not a gem. I'm just pretending, like everyone else.

Lyra looks down at me, and I catch a glint of something in her eyes. "You love it here, don't you, Sylviana?" Her voice takes on an edge, almost challenging, as if she's daring me to disagree.

I hesitate, then nod slightly, knowing that saying anything else might earn me a trip to The Crypt. This place is scary, and I just want to go home.

"See?" she says with a laugh, turning back to the cameras. "She's already fitting in! Everyone, let's hear it for Sylviana!"

The crowd claps, and I force a smile, wishing the lights would dim and the noise would fade away.

"Everyone, get in position for a picture!" She commands, her voice shrill above the rest. The moment she speaks, my sibling's playing stops, and they snap into place with rehearsed precision.

Lyra continues to hold me close, her grip firm and possessive as she surveys us. As my siblings arrange themselves, their expressions instantly shift to a uniform seriousness.

"Say cheese!" a camera person shouts, and we all flash white smiles, each one identical in its forcedness. Lyra's smile is dazzling yet cold, her hawk-like eyes glinting with satisfaction as she gazes out at the crowd.

"Look at them-absolutely perfect!" the same voice calls out, the praise rolling over us like a wave.

My dress is too tight. I can't breathe.

The world blurs around me-the bright lights, the clicking sounds, the murmurs of admiration. All I want is to fade into the background, but Lyra's grip remains unyielding at my side, anchoring me in this moment of manufactured perfection.

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