Chapter 1
Isla pov
“Time’s up, Miss Isla.”
I didn’t turn. I couldn’t. My shoes were buried deep in the graveyard mud, and if I moved, I felt like the earth would finally pull me under to join her. The rain had been falling for three days—a cold, gray curtain that turned the world into a blur of grief.
“I said I’m not done,” I whispered.
“You’ve been standing over a pile of dirt for two hours.” Corin’s voice was like the stone gargoyles on the Vance estate—heavy, cold, and heartless. “Lady Vance does not like to be kept waiting. Especially by someone who owes her as much as you do.”
I looked down at the nameless wooden cross. My mother’s life had ended in a cough of blood and a stack of unpaid bills. She had signed a paper in her final hours, a "mercy contract" that traded my freedom for her medicine. The medicine hadn't saved her. But the contract was still very much alive.
“I haven’t said goodbye,” I said, my voice cracking.
Corin’s boots crunched in the wet grass. He didn't offer a hand. He grabbed my upper arm with fingers like iron.
“You don’t have a mother anymore,” he hissed, yanking me backward so hard I gasped. “You have a Mistress. Now, move.”
I stumbled, my black dress tearing on a bramble, but he didn't stop. He dragged me toward the black carriage waiting at the gates. As the door slammed shut, I pressed my face to the glass. The rain was already washing away the fresh soil of the grave. Soon, there would be nothing left of her at all.
The Vance Estate rose out of the fog like a jagged tooth. It was a monster of gray stone and sharp towers, perched on a cliff that overlooked the valley. Every window was a dark eye watching me arrive.
Inside, the house felt like a tomb. It was too quiet, too clean, and smelled of lemon oil and old secrets. Corin led me to the grand foyer and left me there. I stood on the polished marble, a muddy, shivering mess.
“Is that it?”
The voice drifted down from the balcony above. I looked up and felt my breath catch.
Sera Vance was beautiful in a way that felt dangerous. Her dark hair was a waterfall of curls, and her silk dress was the color of a fresh bruise. She descended the stairs slowly, her eyes scanning me with a look of pure disgust.
“She’s smaller than I thought,” Sera said, reaching the bottom floor. She began to circle me, like a cat deciding where to bite first. “And she smells like wet dog and failure.”
I gritted my teeth, keeping my eyes on the floor. “My mother just died.”
Sera stopped directly in front of me. She reached out and flicked a piece of mud off my shoulder. “Your mother was a debtor. And you are the payment. Don’t speak to me unless I ask you a question.”
“Sera.”
The new voice was low and sharp. Lady Vance stepped out from the shadows of the library. She didn't have her daughter’s fire; she was made of ice. Her silver hair was pinned so tight it pulled her eyes back.
“The girl has arrived,” Lady Vance said, her gaze moving over me like she was counting coins. “Isla, you know why you are here.”
“To pay back the debt, My Lady,” I whispered.
“Correct. You will sleep in the servant’s attic. You will wake at dawn. You will be my daughter’s shadow. You will clean her room, carry her books, and endure her moods. If you run, the guards will find you. If you break something, you will go hungry.”
Lady Vance stepped closer, her cold fingers lifting my chin.
“You are no longer a person, Isla. You are an investment. Do not make me regret saving you from the gutter.”
The first week was a nightmare of blistered hands and sore muscles. Sera was a cruel master. She made me scrub the same floor three times because she "saw a ghost of a smudge." She made me stand outside her door all night just because she felt lonely, then laughed when I fell asleep standing up.
But the real blow came on Sunday morning.
I was pouring tea in the breakfast room, my hands shaking from exhaustion. Lady Vance was reading a letter, while Sera picked at a plate of expensive fruit.
“Isla,” Lady Vance said without looking up.
“Yes, My Lady?”
“Tomorrow, you will go to the Royal Academy of Carden.”
The teapot slipped, splashing hot water onto the white tablecloth. Sera let out a shriek of outrage, but I couldn't even apologize. My heart was thumping against my ribs.
“The Academy?” I gasped. “But... that’s for the elite. For the Lords and Ladies.”
“Mother, you can’t be serious!” Sera slammed her hand on the table. “She’s a servant! If people find out she’s living in our attic, we’ll be the laughingstock of the kingdom!”
Lady Vance finally looked up. Her eyes were terrifyingly blank. “The Academy requires every noble house to bring a ward this year. It is a test of our ability to ‘civilize’ the lower class. If Isla performs well, our family gains favor with the King. If she fails, she goes to the mines.”
She turned her gaze to me.
“You will go to school. You will wear the uniform. You will pretend to be a human being. And you will make sure Sera looks like a saint for taking you in.”
Sera’s face went from red to a pale, sickly white. She turned to me, her eyes burning with a new kind of hatred.
After Lady Vance left the room, Sera stood up and walked over to me. She was so close I could smell the sweet pear on her breath. She reached out and gripped my hair, pulling my head back until I had to look at her.
“You think this is a gift?” she whispered, her voice trembling with rage. “The Academy is a den of vipers, Isla. They hate outsiders. They will smell the poverty on you like blood in the water.”
She leaned in closer, her smile turning sharp and wicked.
“I’m going to make sure they eat you alive. By the end of the first week, you’ll be begging to go back to that muddy grave with your mother.”
She let go of my hair and walked away, her laughter echoing down the cold marble hall. I stood alone in the sunlight, shivering. The door to my old life was locked, and the door to my new life was a trap.
