"Mmm…"
A soft breath of relief escaped my lips as I stretched, my fingertips brushing against the cool, high ceiling. Warm sunlight spilled through the spacious windows, coating the cream-colored walls in a golden glow. I sank into the plush mattress, the Egyptian cotton sheets a sharp, luxurious contrast to the scratchy wool of the orphanage.
St. Aurelia Academy. Even thinking the name felt like an illusion that might snap, sending me back to creaky beds and cold floors. But the scent of lemon wax and expensive lavender was real.
"I can't believe it," I muttered, scanning my room on the top floor of the girls' dormitory. I slapped my cheeks. Slap. "Ow! Okay, still here."
I let out a tiny squeal of excitement, only to catch the judgmental stares of a group of students passing my open door.
"Is that the scholarship girl?" one whispered in a polished accent. "The one Genevieve Beaumont dragged out of the dirt?"
"Sounds like she's having a breakdown already," another snickered.
I flushed, waving sheepishly before locking the door. Great start, Isabelle. You already look like an unhinged squirrel. I leaned against the door, heart racing. I was a red-headed foundling in a palace of gold, and the impostor syndrome was hitting like a tidal wave.
A deep, musical chime vibrated through the building, the assembly bell.
"Holy Grail, I'll be late!"
I sprinted to the closet. My uniform hung in perfect order: a navy-blue blazer with golden trim, a crisp white shirt, and a pleated skirt.
It smelled like money and clouds. I dressed with trembling hands, feeling like I was handling ancient tissue paper. Grabbing my bag and schedule, I dashed out.
Outside, the students strolled casually, wearing headbands that probably cost more than my violin. I felt like the only person on earth in a panic. I approached a group of three girls near a fountain. "Um, excuse me, could you tell me where the…"
They turned in perfect synchronization, shooting me looks of pure disdain.
"Are you lost, or just lacking a mirror?" the girl in the center asked.
"I'm looking for the Cathedral," I stammered.
"Try looking for a tailor first," the second girl giggled. "Your ribbon is crooked. It's embarrassing."
I backed away, muttering an apology. I looked at the school map. It was a beautiful illustration of a literal labyrinth. I walked in circles, glaring at the white spire of the Cathedral in the distance. "I can see it, so why can't I find it?!"
Thump.
A muffled, painful sound stopped me. It came from behind a stone building with narrow windows. I followed the sound into the cold shadows and froze.
Two girls were holding a student down, forcing her to her knees in the dirt. The ringleader, a girl with sharp features and a cruel twist to her lips, was shoving handfuls of dried, dirty leaves into the victim's mouth.
"Eat it," the ringleader hissed. "Since you like scavenging for attention, scavenge for your lunch, you rat."
Hot rage flooded my chest. Before my brain could calculate the danger, I yelled,
"HEY!"
The three girls whipped their heads around.
"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" I snapped, stepping into the light. "Ganging up on someone is pathetic!"
The ringleader burst into laughter. "The stray has a bark. What will you do, charity case? We know who you are. The girl from the orphanage who played a fiddle for the Beaumonts."
The victim looked at me with wide, pleading eyes. I lifted my phone, showing the screen. "I'm calling security. I'm recording this." (I wasn't, but she didn't need to know that.)
The girls stiffened. The ringleader shoved the girl into the dirt, and one of the others delivered a parting kick to her stomach. They marched toward me. The leader, Arabella, poked a branch into my chest, snagging my new blazer.
"You've got guts," she mocked. "Do you have any idea who my father is?"
"I don't care if your father is the King of France," I snapped, batting the branch away. "Don't poke me like a dead animal."
"She's feisty," another snickered. "Like your pet fox, Arabella."
"Don't compare my pedigreed fox to this beggar," Arabella recoiled. "I want to see her cry. Let's see if your eyes turn more silver when you're begging."
As Arabella reached for me, a sharp voice sliced through the air. "HEY!"
A tall girl stood at the end of the alley, her presence instantly commanding the space. Brunette curls framed a face of absolute power.
"Emmeline…" Arabella whispered, her face draining of color.
Emmeline Schuyler.
She looked at the bullies, then lingered on my face, her eyes narrowing as if solving a puzzle. Finally, she looked at the girl on the ground.
"Are you bullying students again, Arabella? I thought the Dean's warning was clear."
"Emmeline, wait! She started it!"
"Do you think I'm an idiot? Go to Student Affairs. Now. Tell them I sent you."
The bullies flinched and trudged away, throwing murderous glares at me. My knees felt like jelly. "Thank you. I didn't think,"
"What are you still doing here?" Emmeline interrupted. Her voice was efficient, not kind. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"The injured girl…"
"I've already signaled the medical team," she said firmly. "Leave."
I clutched my bag. "Wait. Could you tell me how to get to the Cathedral? I'm very lost."
Emmeline raised a brow. "You're the violinist. The one my mother mentioned."
"I suppose so."
"Turn left and walk straight. And Isabelle?" I paused. "Stay out of trouble. This isn't an orphanage. People here don't play by the rules of the church."
She walked away without a backward glance.
"The assembly!!!" I shrieked, breaking into a full sprint. "I can't be late on the first day! I'll be expelled before I even get a textbook!"
I ran past the fountains, past the library, my lungs burning. I finally reached the cathedral, a stunning architectural masterpiece of white stone, stained-glass, and towering arches. It was beautiful, but it felt like a fortress.
I grabbed the heavy brass handle.
Click.
Locked.
"You've got to be kidding me…" I groaned, resting my forehead against the cold wood. I pulled again, desperate. "No… no, no, no, please open… I can't be locked out. Not today."
"Are you trying to get in?"
A soft, masculine voice drifted from behind me. It was melodic, filled with a warmth that I hadn't heard once since entering these gates.
I froze. Slowly, I turned around… and came face-to-face with a boy whose hair shimmered like gold under the morning sun. His eyes were bright, a striking blue-green, and he was looking at me with a mixture of concern and amusement.
He was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.
My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move.
And that moment… that single, quiet moment in the shadow of the cathedral… was how everything truly began.