Seraphina Voss stirred in her bed as the first rays of light from Auralis's morning sun crept through the thin curtains of her small bedroom window.
The light was soft, almost hesitant, as if it knew the day ahead would be anything but gentle.
She lay there for a moment, her body still heavy with sleep, her long red hair splayed across the pillow like a river of crimson silk.
Her hair was vibrant, the kind that caught the light and seemed to glow, with loose waves that fell past her shoulders when she stood.
It was one of the features that made her stand out, though she often wished it didn't.
People noticed her hair first, then her big blue eyes—wide and expressive, framed by long lashes, always seeming to hold a mix of curiosity and hidden depth.
Right now, those eyes were closed, her lids fluttering slightly as she fought the pull of wakefulness.
She shifted under the thin blanket, her skin brushing against the rough fabric.
The blanket was old, patched in places, a remnant from her childhood before everything changed.
Seraphina's figure was slender yet curvy, with soft curves that gave her a feminine grace she didn't always feel comfortable with.
She was wearing a simple white nightgown, the material soft but worn, clinging slightly to her body as she moved.
Her neck was adorned with a delicate silver necklace, a thin chain with a small pendant that rested just above her collarbone—a gift from her late mother, something she never took off.
It was cool against her skin, a constant reminder of warmer times.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, the blue irises adjusting to the light.
The room came into focus: walls covered in faded wallpaper with a pattern of tiny flowers, a wooden desk cluttered with notebooks and pens, and a single chair tucked under it.
The air smelled faintly of dust and lavender from a sachet she kept in her drawer.
Seraphina sat up, her movements deliberate and unhurried, the bed creaking softly under her weight.
She swung her legs over the side, her bare feet touching the cold wooden floor.
The chill sent a shiver up her legs, making her toes curl instinctively. She rubbed her arms, feeling goosebumps rise on her fair skin.
Standing up, she stretched her arms above her head, her back arching slightly as she let out a quiet yawn.
Her hair fell forward, brushing her face, and she tucked a strand behind her ear with a gentle flick of her finger.
The ear was small and pierced with a simple silver earring that matched her necklace.
She walked to the desk, her steps light and quiet, not wanting to disturb the house yet.
Her hand reached out, fingers grazing the stack of notebooks.
They were her treasures, filled with stories she had written—tales of strong women who conquered the world of movies and music, creating stars and weaving dreams into reality.
Writing was her passion, her escape from the reality of this house.
A distant sound from downstairs—a door closing with a thud—made her pause.
Her heart gave a small jump, a familiar unease settling in her stomach.
It was Cornelius, her stepfather, starting his day.
Seraphina took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling slowly. She moved to her closet, opening the door with a creak.
Inside hung a few outfits, nothing fancy. She selected a white blouse and black pants and laid them on the bed.
Slipping out of her nightgown, she felt the cool air on her skin, causing another shiver.
She pulled on the blouse, buttoning it with careful fingers, the fabric hugging her chest and waist.
The pants followed, fitting snugly around her hips and legs. She slipped her feet into soft slippers, the padding worn thin.
Looking in the small mirror on the wall, Seraphina brushed her red hair, the brush pulling through the waves smoothly.
Her big blue eyes stared back, a hint of sadness in them that she tried to ignore.
She looked cute, perhaps even sexy in a subtle way, with her full lips and high cheekbones.
But she felt ordinary, overlooked. With a sigh, she turned away, her shoulders slumping slightly.
The hallway was dim as she stepped out, the wooden floor cool under her slippers.
She walked down the stairs, her hand sliding along the bannister for balance.
Each step was slow, her weight shifting from one foot to the other, the wood creaking softly.
At the bottom, she paused, listening to the voices in the kitchen: Cornelius's low rumble, Drusilla's sharp replies, and the occasional giggle from Mirabel or Claudia.
Seraphina's stomach tightened, a knot forming. She squared her shoulders, lifting her chin, and walked in.
The kitchen was brighter, sunlight pouring through large windows.
The table was set with breakfast—toast, eggs, fresh fruit—but no place for her.
Cornelius sat at the head, his grey hair neat, his suit crisp.
His face was stern, eyes narrowed as he read a holographic newspaper projected from his device.
Drusilla stood by the sink, her dark hair pinned up, her dress fitted and elegant.
She turned, her eyes locking on Seraphina with disapproval.
Mirabel and Claudia sat eating, Mirabel with her blonde hair styled perfectly, Claudia with her ponytail swinging as she chewed.
"Good morning," Seraphina said softly, her voice steady but quiet.
She moved to the counter, reaching for a plate. Her hand hovered, fingers curling slightly.
Cornelius looked up, his brows furrowing. He set his device down with a click, the sound sharp in the room. "Sit, Seraphina. We have to talk."
Seraphina's heart skipped a beat.
She pulled out a chair, the legs scraping against the tile.
She sat down, her back straight, hands in her lap.
Her fingers intertwined, twisting nervously.
The knot in her stomach grew, a cold feeling spreading through her chest.
Drusilla walked over, her heels clicking with each step.
She stopped beside Cornelius, her arms crossed, fingers tapping her elbow. "It's time, girl. You're an adult now. We can't keep carrying you."
Seraphina's big blue eyes widened, a flash of fear in them. She felt her breath catch, her chest tightening.
"What do you mean?" Her voice was small, her lips parting slightly.
Cornelius leaned forward, his elbows on the table, hands clasped.
His knuckles whitened. "You're too soft, Seraphina. Always locked in your room, writing those pointless stories."
"Mirabel and Claudia are out there, hustling in the industry, making connections. They're going to be big. You? You're useless to us."