Shifting fates

Chapter Two: Home sweet home?

The moment Lucian and I step through the doors of the house, I know I’ve walked straight into my personal nightmare.

The place is buzzing. Not with the usual pre-ceremony energy, but with a specific kind of chaos. Women—mothers, daughters, even a few elders—are gathered in a wide circle, all focused on a single figure at the center like a pack of wolves doting on their queen.

Ellie.

She sits on a cushioned stool, draped in soft silks, her long black hair woven into intricate braids that glisten under the glow of lantern light. Delicate white flowers are being threaded into her hair while a few younger girls admire her like she’s some celestial being descended from the moon itself.

Two women paint gold filigree patterns on her arms, their hands working with the precision of artisans crafting a masterpiece. Another woman cinches a sheer peach-colored sash around her waist, adjusting it carefully as if Ellie isn’t already flawless.

It’s like a scene out of a fairy tale.

And me? I’m the soot-covered gremlin crashing the royal ball.

Lucian, walking beside me, takes one look at my face and elbows me. "Don’t say it."

I raise my eyebrows innocently. "Say what?"

"Whatever it is you are thinking."

I nod solemnly. "I was definitely thinking that this looks like the preparation scene in some tragic historical drama. You know, before the princess is sacrificed to an evil warlord to secure an alliance."

Lucian coughs, trying to suppress a laugh.

Unfortunately, my moment of entertainment is cut short by a voice sharp enough to slice through steel.

"Raine Alexandra Thornfield."

Oh, hell.

My mother storms toward me, her heels clicking against the wooden floor with the kind of precision that makes me instinctively straighten up. She’s not yelling. She never yells. But the disapproval rolls off her like a heatwave, burning in its intensity.

I glance down at myself.

Okay. Yeah. I might be a little bit of a mess.

Dirt stains streak my leggings. My tank top is damp with sweat from the run back. There’s probably at least one twig stuck in my hair.

But, in my defense, I was outside running… in the wood. So, you know…

Mum looks me up and down like I’m a stray dog that somehow wandered into her pristine home. "What have you been doing?" she hisses under her breath, though I know she’s loud enough for the other women to hear.

Before I can answer, Lucian steps in casually. "Relax, Mum. It’s nothing a shower won’t fix."

Mum exhales sharply through her nose. She wants to argue, I can see it, but with an audience watching, she only presses her lips into a thin line.

"Go. Clean yourself up." She eyes me like she’s considering setting me on fire for good measure. "And for once, try to wear something presentable."

Ellie, who could almost be my mirror image except for her long, black hair, gives me a tiny smirk from her throne of admiration. We’re identical, sure, but the contrast is stark. She’s flawless, polished, and adored, while I’m… well, not.

I flash her a bright, sarcastic grin before heading upstairs to shower.

Once I’m in the bathroom, the water hits me like a cold slap to the face, but I don’t care. I don’t even notice the chill as I stand there, letting the water run over my skin, trying to wash away the tension.

The cold, at least, keeps my mind from spiraling. It's easier to focus on the rhythm of the water, the sound of the droplets hitting the tiles, than on the chaos waiting downstairs.

After a few minutes, I finally step out, wrapping myself in a towel. The mirror’s fogged up, but I don't bother clearing it. I’m not interested in seeing what I look like, especially not in this house.

But the second I step back into my room, I see the neatly folded clothes on the bed. Mum must’ve left them there, probably out of some misguided attempt to avoid a scene in front of the others.

A tight, fitted black dress. Of course.

It’s always the same with her. Always the same expectations.

Sighing, I slip it on, feeling the fabric hug my body. The dress is beautiful—too beautiful for me. I don't belong in it, not with the thoughts swirling around my head. The magic in the air feels heavy, like it's suffocating me, and Ellie’s triumphant aura downstairs isn’t helping.

When I return to the gathering, it’s worse than I expected.

The women are still fawning over Ellie. Some of them glance at me as I enter, but their eyes quickly flick back to Ellie, as if I’m just a shadow in the room. The energy is all focused on her, like she’s the sun and everyone else is a mere planet orbiting around her.

I stand there for a moment, trying to take it all in, trying to pretend I’m fine.

But I’m not fine.

And Ellie, sitting there with that smug little smile, knows it.