VEL'KORA ACADEMY

Chapter 3: A Cursed Heart

After the long day of classes, I wasted no time. While other students lingered in the hallways, chatting and making plans, I walked straight to my private dorm. It was one of the few perks of being a duke’s daughter—an entire room to myself, away from the noise and expectations. Even though I was the youngest and always compared to my sisters, this was one thing I had that was truly mine.

The room was as I had left it: neat, untouched. I preferred it that way. No maids, no unnecessary visitors. Just silence.

I set my bag down and immediately began organizing the things I had hastily placed earlier. Clothes folded neatly, books arranged in perfect order, my ice-blue cloak hung by the door. Then, carefully, I reached into my bag and pulled out a small picture frame.

I placed it on my desk, my fingers lingering on the glass. The image inside was old but clear—a woman with long black hair and striking green eyes, the same as mine. My grandmother. My mother’s mother. The only person who had ever truly made me feel loved.

I stared at the photo for a long time.

She was gone now.

Because of me.

I closed my eyes, and the memories came rushing back, sharp and cold like a frozen blade.

I had been young—too young to understand what was happening. One moment, my grandmother was holding me, whispering for me to run. The next, the air was filled with the crackle of magic, the scent of burning earth, and the sight of men in black cloaks surrounding us.

Their eyes glowed with power, their hands raised in unison. A coordinated attack.

I had seen it.

I had felt it.

The green glow of my grandmother’s nature magic surged as she fought them off, roots rising from the ground, thorns piercing through their robes. But there were too many. Their combined spells struck her, blood splattering the ground—her blood.

I had screamed.

And then—

Nothing.

My mind had gone blank.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, covered in blood. But it wasn’t mine. My hands, my clothes, my face—everything was drenched in it.

My grandmother was gone. No body. No sign of her at all.

And the worst part?

My heart had been cursed.

I had felt it the moment I tried to use my magic after that day. The pain was unbearable, like chains tightening around my chest, ready to shatter my ribs if I pushed too hard. My once-limitless ice magic was now restrained, held back by an invisible force. If I tried to use too much of it, the ache became unbearable, a warning that something inside me was broken.

No news broke out about it because of my familys influence.

After that day, my family stopped speaking to me.

Not a single word.

Not my mother. Not my father. Not even my sisters.

They only looked at me with quiet hatred, as if I had been the one to take her away. As if it was my fault.

Maybe it was.

I opened my eyes, shaking off the memory. My chest felt tight, but I forced myself to breathe.

It didn’t matter anymore. The past was frozen in time, unchangeable.

All I could do now was move forward.

I turned away from the picture and sat on my bed, gripping the cold silver chain around my neck—a keepsake my grandmother had given me. The one thing I had left of her.

I would survive Vel’kora Academy. I would grow stronger.

And one day, I would find the truth.

I would find who had taken her from me.

And when I did—

I would make them pay.

A sudden knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts.

Reluctantly, I stood up and opened the door, only to be met with an overly eager face and a flash of purple hair.

“Ava,” I said flatly.

“Ilonyyyy, please let me stay here for a week!” Ava pleaded dramatically, clasping her hands together.

I blinked. “No.”

“But listen! My room is awful! My roommate brought so much stuff, it looks like a storage house! She says it’ll take a week to sort through everything, and in the meantime, she has no space for me. And on top of that, she’s rude and not nice at all!” Ava huffed, crossing her arms. “So please, please let me stay here just for a week? I’ll be super quiet—I promise!”

I stared at her, unimpressed. “No.”

Ava groaned but didn’t give up. “Come on, Ilony! I’m really fun to have around! I can help you with schoolwork! I won’t make a mess! I’ll even—uh—I’ll even tell you some juicy academy gossip!”

Silence.

I continued staring, unmoved.

She sighed and tried again, now listing reasons as if testing what might get a reaction out of me.

“I can help clean your room! I’ll be out of your way! You won’t even know I’m here! Oh, and I can do hair styling! I bet your long black hair would look amazing if I—”

“No.”

Ava pouted, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to analyze me.

She looked around, then, after a moment, suddenly grinned. “Ohhh, I see how it is.”

“I bet you’re the type who likes sweets, aren’t you?”

I stiffened.

Ava’s grin widened like she had just won a battle. “I knew it! You have that kind of quiet, mysterious vibe, but I bet deep down, you love homemade sweets.”

I stayed silent, but she had already sensed my hesitation.

“I can bake,” Ava declared confidently, placing a hand on her hip. “Really well, actually. I can make all sorts of pastries—cakes, cookies, bread, you name it. If you let me stay for just one week, I’ll bake something fresh every single day.”

Something stirred inside me at her words.

It was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. But—

Homemade sweets.

Baked pastries.

Memories flashed in my mind. My grandmother’s gentle hands, carefully kneading dough. The scent of warm bread filling the kitchen. The way she’d always smile as she handed me a freshly baked treat, saying, "Sweets taste best when made with care, Ilony."

I swallowed.

Ava gasped, pointing at me. “You’re thinking about it! I knew it!”

I clicked my tongue in irritation and turned away. “Fine. Just one week.”

“YESSS!” Ava cheered, practically shoving her way inside.

I already regretted this.

But if it meant warm, homemade pastries, maybe… just maybe… it wouldn’t be so bad.

Ava wasted no time making herself at home. The moment I reluctantly agreed, she practically flew inside, dropping her bag near the corner and stretching like she had just conquered the world.

I sighed. “Rules.”

She turned to me, blinking. “Huh?”

I crossed my arms, my voice flat. “If you’re staying. Rules.”

Ava straightened, nodding eagerly. “Alright, hit me with them.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t touch my things.”

“Of course.”

“No loud talking.”

“Got it.”

“No unnecessary conversation.”

Ava opened her mouth, then paused, looking like she physically had to restrain herself. “…Okay.”

I continued. “No inviting people over. No moving furniture. No mess. No distractions. No asking me personal questions. And—” I met her gaze, my voice cooling like frost. “—if you’re lying about baking, leave now.”

Ava raised her hands defensively. “Whoa, whoa, I swear on my future as a legendary baker! You’ll have the best pastries of your life!”

I stared at her for a long moment, then finally nodded.

She sighed in relief, flopping onto the small couch in the corner. “Gosh, you’re strict. I feel like I just signed a contract with a demon.”

I ignored her and returned to my desk. There was silence for a few seconds before Ava sat up again, tilting her head.

“…You know, that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk.”

I paused but didn’t react.

She grinned. “You do know how to use words after all.”

I shot her a cold glance. “Go to sleep.”

Ava just laughed, lying back on the couch.

I’ll get my peace back in a week.

And in the meantime—

Freshly baked sweets every day.

It was a fair trade.