WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK CHAPTER 7

Lily squared her shoulders and moved to the wardrobe to begin preparing for dinner. For now, she would play the role Vandaulf demanded of her. But as the sun began to set over the Carlston estate, she reminded herself of one undeniable truth: the night belonged to Ina.

Lily stood before the grand mirror in her opulent yet coldly impersonal room. Her reflection was that of a demure bride—flawless, composed, and perfectly groomed. But as she gazed at her own eyes, she could feel Ina stirring within her, a quiet yet insistent force.

Ina’s voice, low and taunting, echoed in her mind.

"Lily, Lily," Ina whispered, her voice full of defiance. "Don't let him belittle you. Don't let him make you feel small. You don't belong beneath him—you belong above him. Let me handle it when the night comes."

 Lively's hands squeezed the edges of the dressing table, her knuckles whitening. She shakes a little as she tries to push away the voice through her head. Her lips spoke, and this time, softly, she mouthed.

"Behave, Ina," she said, her tone stern but laced with desperation. "Don't put me in a dangerous position."

"Dangerous?" Ina’s laugh was low, almost mocking. "The only danger here is letting him crush you beneath his heel. You heard him—‘obedient,’ ‘sweet,’ ‘compliant.’ He wants a doll, not a woman. Is that what you want to be, Lily? A hollow, smiling doll for him to parade around?"

Lily closed her eyes tightly, her breathing shallow as she tried to steady herself. "I don’t want to fight him, Ina," she whispered. "You don’t understand. He has power—real power. If we step out of line, it won’t just be me who suffers."

"And if you keep cowering, you’ll lose yourself entirely," Ina shot back, her voice sharper now. "Do you think this ends with obedience? No. He’ll take and take until there’s nothing left of you. Is that what you want?"

And then Lily saw her eyes flare open, catching her own startled reflection in its gaze. There were moments when for a moment only it was her face that regarded her,just her face or Ina's, fierce with unyielding rage.

 But it was gone in an instant, leaving only her familiar, fragile features.

"I have to be careful," Lily said firmly, as though addressing her reflection. "You don’t know what it’s like, Ina. You’ve never had to navigate this world. You only see rebellion, but there’s a price for that. A price I can’t afford to pay."

"And there’s a price for silence, too, Lily," Ina said, softer now, almost coaxing. "You know it. You’ve felt it. You can’t keep suppressing me forever. I am you. And I will not disappear."

Lily turned away from the mirror, her hands trembling as she clasped them together. "Not now," she said, more to herself than to Ina. "I’ll figure out how to survive this, but not now. Please, just let me get through tonight."

She had said nothing at all, yet Lily could almost feel her remaining there, some shadow in the corners of her own brain. The atmosphere of the place was oppressive-something was heavy now-and she stirred to prepare herself for dinner, knowing that she was right; but she also knew the game.

As the clock ticked closer to eight, Lily straightened her spine, smoothing down her dress. Her expression was serene, her demeanor flawless once more. She had a role to play, and for now, that role required silence.

But deep inside, Ina waited, her fire smoldering, ready to rise when the night came.

The night descended upon the Carlston mansion like a velvet curtain, draping the halls in an eerie silence. The ornate chandelier in Lily's room flickered as it cast long, twisted shadows, but it was no longer Lily who stood before the mirror. The meek, obedient bride had gone, replaced by something far darker. Ina emerged, her sharp gaze seizing control as her fingers traced the hem of her evening dress, her face now an unreadable mask of power.

A soft knock on the door broke her train of thought, and Ina's voice came through—low and filled with quiet intensity.

"Miss Lily," the maid's polite voice echoed through the heavy wood. "Dinner is ready. Please go to the dining hall. Madam Helen and Mr. Vandaulf are waiting for you."

The mention of their names did nothing to stir the once-timid Lily. Instead, Ina felt the corners of her lips curl into a sly, knowing smile. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She was done being the obedient doll, the picture of meekness.

With a deep breath, she calmed her thoughts, making sure her reflection betrayed nothing of the power now simmering beneath the surface. She straightened herself, smoothing the fabric of her dress, and opened the door.

The maid curtsied slightly and stepped aside to let Ina pass. The weight of the mansion seemed heavier now, colder. Every footfall echoed off marble floors as she descended the stairway, all movement measured and deliberate. None of them - this house or these people - had any inkling of what was coming.

As she entered the dining hall, the energy shifted. The soft murmur of conversation died instantly. Helen Carlston, ever the epitome of poised authority, sat at the head of the long, elaborately set table. Her sharp eyes flicked over Ina, assessing, judging with a single sweep. The look on her face was cold, calculating.

Vandaulf, as ever, sat at Helen's right, his presence demanding even the act of swishing red wine in a glass. His gaze met with Ina's this time, but there was nothing warm within the smile he stretched for her. It was a smirk—hungry and laughing.

'Lily,' Helen said coolly and measured. 'You are late.

Ina's lips curved upward into a knowing smile, and her eyes met Helen's. "My apologies, Madam Helen," she said coolly, no longer meek but confident. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Helen said with a sharp nod, motioning for her to sit.

Ina slid into the chair across from Vandaulf with an easy grace, her eyes never leaving his. He looked back at her, trying to find in her some evidence of the cringing, servile Lily he'd seen before, but there was nothing there.

The servants moved swiftly, placing elegantly prepared dishes in front of them, but the air was thick with unspoken tension. The room felt small under the weight of the expectations that both Helen and Vandaulf imposed on her.

Vandaulf leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed, studying her like an unspoken challenge. “So,” he began, his voice smooth but laced with mock politeness, “you’re adjusting well, I trust? This house. it’s not too overwhelming for you, is it?”

Ina’s lips curved upward in a subtle smile. “It’s beautiful,” she replied, her voice cool and controlled. “Thank you for accommodating me.”

Vandaulf chuckled low, the sound full of condescension. He set his wine glass down with deliberate precision, his voice dropping, as if to ensure only she could hear. "Accommodating you?" He leaned in, his eyes never leaving hers. "Let's not pretend this is about you, Lily. You're here because you belong to me. This mansion, this life. it exists for my convenience. Not for your comfort."