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Chapter 53: Not Made for Chandeliers

作者: VANCIA
last update 最終更新日: 2025-05-31 13:31:12

Three days had passed since I’d cornered Ingrid in our dormitory and spilled the truth in fits and stammers, expecting anger and bracing for abandonment. But she hadn’t stormed out. Not then. Not entirely. Since that night, things had grown quieter between us—but not cold. She still curled her legs beneath her on the common room sofa, still stole my hairpins, still rolled her eyes when I refused to add sugar to my tea. But there was a space between us now, soft-edged and unspoken, like the dent left behind when a picture is taken off the wall.

Now, we sat across from one another in the grand dining hall, trays resting between us, our plates half-picked through. The towering windows were trimmed in frost, the light outside painted in that strange hour of gold that felt like both afternoon and early evening. The hearths crackled lazily along the walls, perfuming the room with firewood and just a hint of old stone.

Ingrid’s spoon clinked against her bowl as she leaned forward, eyes brigh
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  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 55: She Wore the Lie Like Tulle

    It was the day of the Moonlit Ball.The sun had not yet disappeared, but its golden light had already begun to thin, casting long, fragile shadows across the dormitory walls. The air outside my window felt unusually still, like the world was holding its breath for something — some ancient ritual reborn beneath silk and silver. Inside, the air carried the scent of jasmine water, pressed rose petals, and the faintest hint of starch clinging to formal wear. A strange calm sat heavy on my shoulders, though it trembled slightly around the edges — like a ripple caught beneath a sheet of glass.I stood before the mirror, still as the moon itself, and stared. And I was staring at a stranger in the mirror.Not a complete stranger—not someone unrecognizable—but a version of myself I’d never seen before. A version that had been hidden somewhere deep beneath woolen sweaters and crumpled parchment, beneath bruised pride and soft-spoken apologies. She stared back at me now through the silvery haze

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  • THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH   Chapter 53: Not Made for Chandeliers

    Three days had passed since I’d cornered Ingrid in our dormitory and spilled the truth in fits and stammers, expecting anger and bracing for abandonment. But she hadn’t stormed out. Not then. Not entirely. Since that night, things had grown quieter between us—but not cold. She still curled her legs beneath her on the common room sofa, still stole my hairpins, still rolled her eyes when I refused to add sugar to my tea. But there was a space between us now, soft-edged and unspoken, like the dent left behind when a picture is taken off the wall.Now, we sat across from one another in the grand dining hall, trays resting between us, our plates half-picked through. The towering windows were trimmed in frost, the light outside painted in that strange hour of gold that felt like both afternoon and early evening. The hearths crackled lazily along the walls, perfuming the room with firewood and just a hint of old stone.Ingrid’s spoon clinked against her bowl as she leaned forward, eyes brigh

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