Her thumb dug into the welt rising on Nysa's cheek. "That slap? The first interesting thing you've done in years. Too bad it just proved what everyone thinks—
The door flew open.
"Enough!" Lina stood in the doorway, her face pale. "Kaeli, stop—just stop!" She rushed forward, wedging herself between them.
Kaeli scoffed, but she didn't push past her sister. Nysa stayed on the ground, her cheek burning, her breath coming too fast.
Lina turned to her, voice low. "Go. Now."
Nysa didn't need to be told twice.
---
After tossing and turning through a sleepless night, morning crept in like an unwanted guest. Nysa dragged herself out of bed with heavy limbs, her cheek still throbbing where Kaeli's slap had landed. She prodded the tender skin—hot to the touch, no doubt flushed an ugly shade of red—and winced.
She changed into her usual work clothes, the coarse fabric scraping against her raw nerves, and gathered her tools for the day at Madame Selene's.
Every movement felt sluggish, as if her body were filled with wet sand. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on her shoulders, but she welcomed it.
She tied her hair back with trembling fingers, catching her own gaze in the tarnished mirror. The girl staring back at her had shadows under her eyes and a bruise blooming on her cheek.
She had barely stepped into the shop when she was greeted with a flurry of excitement.
"Nysa! You're back!"
"Tell us everything!"
"Did you see the Prince?"
"What was it like?"
The shop's apprentices surrounded her like a school of hungry fish, wide-eyed and eager. Normally, she would've been excited to share, but today, their voices grated on her nerves. She wasn't ready to relive the whirlwind of emotions that celebration had brought — not yet.
"I'm really tired," she said with a small forced smile, brushing past them. "Maybe later."
Some looked disappointed, others exchanged confused glances, but none pressed further. She made her way toward the workbenches, hoping for a quiet start to the day. That's when she saw Cara. Her best friend.
Cara's eyes lit up the moment she saw her. She dropped a spool of thread and rushed over with arms wide.
"Nysa!" she squealed, wrapping her in a dramatic hug. "You're finally back! I've been dying to know — how was it? Did you have fun? Oh, please tell me everything!"
Nysa's arms remained stiff at her sides. Her heart thudded. She inhaled sharply, suppressing the sting in her chest. She had rehearsed this moment all morning, and now it was time to put on a show.
"It was amazing," Nysa replied, her voice sugar-sweet. "The palace is even more beautiful than I imagined. There were glowing lights everywhere, and the ceilings… gods, Cara, they stretched so high I thought they'd touch the sky."
Cara blinked. "You… enjoyed it?"
Nysa nodded. "The food was delicious. There were musicians playing soft tunes, and nobles dressed in the finest clothes. And the dance floor? It glittered like stars. I've never seen anything like it."
There was a twitch at the corner of Cara's mouth. "Oh… That's… great."
"Oh, and Lioren introduced me to some guests," Nysa added casually, watching Cara's expression closely. "Everyone was so polite. I'm so glad I went."
Cara's brows furrowed. "Wait… but… your dress… didn't anything happen to it?"
Nysa tilted her head innocently. "The dress? No. Why would anything happen to it?"
There was a pause.
Cara's smile faded. "But you said the hem was loose, remember? That maybe it would tear?"
"Oh right!" Nysa feigned surprise. "Well, nothing happened. It held up just fine. A bit dusty maybe. I was thinking I'd wash it before I return it to you."
Cara's eyes narrowed now, her voice rising. "But… that's impossible."
"Why would something be wrong with it?" Nysa asked, her tone sharper now.
"I don't know—maybe someone messed with it," Cara said defensively, her arms folding across her chest. "Or you sat wrong or something. You're saying the dress stayed perfect all night?"
"Mhm." Nysa's smile was tight now, cold even. "Oh… and one more thing."
She reached into her satchel and pulled out a small, folded slip of paper. Her fingers didn't tremble. Her voice didn't waver.
"I found this at home," she said sweetly. "I noticed the handwriting and thought I should return it to you."
Cara took the note absentmindedly, unfolding it as if it were some random grocery list. But the moment her eyes scanned the words — her own words — her skin paled. Her breath caught. The color drained from her face faster than water down a drain.
By now, a few workers nearby had taken notice. They paused in their tasks, looking over with curious eyes as the tension between the two girls began to rise like a brewing storm.
Cara clutched the note, shaking her head. "This isn't—this was never meant to—"
Nysa didn't blink. "You wrote it."
"I—it was just a joke," Cara stammered. "Kaeli and I—we didn't mean anything by it. It was stupid—"
Nysa stepped forward, her eyes locking with Cara's. "You stole my money. You gave me a ruined dress. You laughed behind my back. That's not a joke."
The memory burned in Nysa's chest—how she had come to Cara in tears, confessing that her cousin had stolen her savings. She hadn't even said which cousin it was, but Cara had immediately guessed Kaeli. At the time, Nysa had been too upset to question it. Now, the realization settled like ice in her veins.
Some of the apprentices exchanged shocked glances. One of them leaned closer, whispering, "What's happening?"
Nysa's hands clenched at her sides, her earlier fire dimming under the weight of so many eyes on her. She hated this—hated confrontation, hated being the center of attention. But she couldn't stay silent anymore.
"She planned it," she said, her voice quieter now, but no less sharp. "With Kaeli. Cara knew how hard I worked to save up for the celebration, and she took it all away from me.
.
.