"Your twin brother," Augustin choked.
His voice broke halfway through the sentence. His hand tightened around the back of the chair like he needed something solid to hold onto.
"There were two of you, Althea. You had a brother. A twin."
For a second, I didn't understand the words. I thought my ears were playing tricks on me or perhaps the effects of the drugs were yet to wear off.
"Wha… What are you saying? I don't have a brother," I said, my voice flat. "I would know. There would be pictures. There would be records of it or something."
Augustin shook his head slowly. His eyes looked wild now, like he was watching ghosts crawl out of the walls.
"Someone erased him," he whispered.
A hollow kind of chill that settled right behind my ribs.
"For whatever reason, they wanted him gone. He was wiped out completely. No birth certificate, no hospital logs like he had never even been born. That's why no one speaks of him. He doesn't exist on paper. I… I thought... I thought he died in the car with them. I thought he was at the bottom of the lake too. His name was Adrien."
My stomach dropped.
My thoughts flickered suddenly to Adrien.
Adrien with his endless hoodies and quiet smirks. Adrien who could break into any system on the planet but somehow had no real past of his own. Adrien who dodged every personal question with a joke or a shrug.
Adrien who had never talked about his past.
I only know him as the Beaumont heir. Madame Beaumont's only child. But there's no connection between us. There's no way he's talking about that Adrien…right? Dmitri would have known something.
A thousand thoughts flooded my head. My hands started to tremble.
His voice was fading now, like he'd drifted somewhere far away from the room.
"He—"
He looked up and saw that I was already trembling, my mind somewhere else.
"Isabelle. Isabelle!" he shouted, shaking my shoulders.
"Wh— Adrien… how…" I was already lost in thought.
"You know someone named Adrien, don't you? Don't you?!"
"Answer me, Isabelle! Don't mention him to anyone. You have to hide him from them. Do you understand?"
I shoved him off me.
"I don't know anyone named… Adrien," my voice came out small, almost a mumble.
"Good. That's good."
"But everything started long before the lake," he continued. "Long before the fire."
He stared toward the far corner of the room.
"It started with a girl who only wanted to belong."
The overhead lamp flickered.
For a moment the harsh white light blurred, softening into something warmer. The damp smell of concrete faded. In its place came the scent of fresh grass and leather.
The world shifted.
And suddenly the past came rushing in.
St. Aurelia Academy — 2001
The riding arena smelled like hay, horse sweat, and money.
Elena Duval sat stiffly on the saddle, trying to remember everything the instructor had told her about posture. Her fingers tightened around the reins. A girl from a minor noble family who had more talent than banknotes. Unlike the others, she only had her music and a seat at Seraphina Beaumont's table.
Don't lean forward.
Keep your shoulders straight.
Easy advice when you weren't surrounded by people who had been riding since childhood.
A horse snorted beside her.
"God, you look terrible," one of the girls said.
Elena didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The voice carried that particular tone that came with old money and absolute confidence.
Laughter followed.
Several riders circled her slowly. Their horses were massive, expensive breeds with glossy coats and braided manes.
Elena's mare looked small in comparison.
"Did they teach you to ride at your little conservatory?" another girl asked sweetly. "Or were you too busy playing violin for spare coins?"
More laughter. Elena's cheeks burned. She kept her eyes forward and tried not to react.
Across the arena, Seraphina sat calmly on her own horse.
Seraphina looked effortless in the saddle. Her posture was perfect, her riding boots polished to a mirror shine. Sunlight caught the gold thread of her jacket.
She was beautiful. Untouchable. Seraphina was the kind of girl people built worlds around. A girl from a wealthy and powerful noble family that is very close to the Royals.
And somehow, for reasons Elena still didn't quite understand, Seraphina had decided she liked keeping Elena nearby.
Elena had been grateful at first. A talented violinist from a once-respected but now struggling family didn't exactly walk into St. Aurelia expecting friendship from the richest girl on campus.
But moments like this made the truth clear. Seraphina didn't protect her. She was simply… watching.
"Your boots look secondhand," one of the girls continued. "Vintage poverty chic."
They circled again.
Elena risked a glance toward Seraphina.
Seraphina adjusted the leather strap of her glove and watched the exchange with mild interest, like someone observing a game they'd already seen before. She didn't say a word.
Elena felt a sting in her chest from the silence her "best friend" gave when others were picking on her.
A new voice suddenly cut through the arena.
"That's enough."
Hooves echoed across the dirt. Viktor Volkov rode into the center of the ring.
Even at seventeen, Viktor looked like he'd been built out of concrete. Broad shoulders, thick arms, a face that rarely smiled. The other riders slowed immediately. Viktor looked at them with open irritation.
"Find something else to do," he said.
One girl rolled her eyes. "Relax, Viktor. We're just—"
"Leave her alone."
His tone made the rest of the sentence disappear.
The girls exchanged annoyed looks but guided their horses away. Viktor turned toward Elena. For a moment she thought he might say something kind. Instead, he nodded toward her horse.
"She rides under my protection," he said flatly. "So watch what you do."
Elena felt the words like a slap.
"I'm not under your protection, Volkov," Elena shot back.
"I can handle myself without your help."
"Darling, there's no such thing as "handle myself" around here. Especially for people like you. I have everything under control so quit talking back and let me handle th—"
"She's not an object," a voice interrupted him.
The quiet voice came from the edge of the arena.
Arthur Valois leaned against the wooden fence.
He had transferred to St. Aurelia the year before and rarely spoke to anyone. His family owned half the land surrounding the academy. When Arthur entered a room, people noticed even if he never raised his voice.
Seraphina was his cousin, distant enough that no one would blink at the idea of them getting married.
He stepped forward slowly.
Viktor frowned. "Stay out of this."
Arthur ignored him.
Instead, he approached Elena's horse and rested a steady hand on the bridle.
"You're doing fine," he told her. His tone was calm and firm, perfectly normal. Elena blinked in surprise. Arthur finally glanced toward Seraphina. His cousin.
"And you," he said quietly. "Watching this happen to someone you call a friend?"
Seraphina raised an eyebrow.
"They're just teasing her," she said lightly. "Don't be dramatic."
Arthur's expression hardened.
"It stops being a joke when you're the only one laughing."
The arena went silent. Arthur turned back to Elena.
"Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here." He offered his hand to help her down.
She hesitated.
"Uh… Really?"
He shrugged.
"I'd rather listen to you play violin than watch these idiots pretend they can ride."
The corners of Elena's mouth lifted despite herself. She dismounted. And just like that, something shifted.
The Months That Followed
After that day, Elena and Arthur were rarely seen apart. They studied together in the library. Arthur sat through her violin practice, pretending to read while she played.
Sometimes they simply walked the grounds behind the academy where the trees blocked out the rest of the world.
Arthur never treated her like an outsider. He never mentioned his money or status. He acted like a regular person. He just… liked being around her.
For Elena, that feeling was dangerously new.
For Seraphina, it was something else entirely.
Something colder.
One Year Later
The Valois estate study smelled like cigars and old paper. Inside, voices argued quietly. The elders had gathered to discuss "family matters."
The doors opened. Arthur stepped inside first. Seraphina already stood near the window, elegant as ever. Viktor leaned against a bookshelf with his arms folded. Several older men sat around the large table.
Arthur's grandfather spoke first.
"It's settled then," the old man said calmly. "The Beaumont-Valois union proceeds as planned."
Seraphina's lips curved slightly.
"You and Seraphina will marry," the patriarch continued. "It keeps the bloodline secure and protects the family seals."
Arthur pushed his chair back.
"No."
The word landed like a gunshot. Silence swallowed the room. Arthur looked at Seraphina. Then at the elders.
"I'm marrying Elena Duval."
Several voices erupted at once. Arthur raised a hand.
"I don't care about the seals," he said. "Or the alliances."
His voice remained steady.
"I'd rather lose my inheritance and live in a shack than spend my life in a loveless arrangement."
Seraphina finally spoke.
"You'd throw everything away for a girl whose family has nothing to their name except violins?"
Her tone was quiet and dangerously calm.
"When you transferred here, you never talked to her. You barely even noticed her. You only started speaking to her a year ago. And now you're willing to throw away the family tradition for that?"
"This was decided years ago, from the moment we were born. And now you're here talking about love."
"Please, don't make me laugh. What do you know about love anyway—"
"Everything you don't!" Arthur shot back.
"Yes, I'll say it again. I'd rather lose the title and status."
Arthur didn't hesitate. Seraphina's expression didn't change. Not even slightly.
Arthur stood.
"I'm done here."
He walked out of the study. Behind him, the room erupted into angry shouting. Arthur didn't look back. He never saw the expression on Seraphina's face. Never saw the silent glance she exchanged with Viktor Volkov across the table.
He thought love would be enough. He didn't realize that moment had just started a war. A war that would end five years later in a dark lake.
And leave two children fighting for the truth their parents died trying to protect.