Celeste's POV
"Seraphina Ashford has been my partner in this research."
Dorian's words echoed through the ballroom, and my heart stopped beating.
Partner? What did he mean, partner?
I stood frozen against the wall, the empty champagne tray still clutched in my trembling hands. On stage, Dorian held my stepsister's hand under the starlight streaming through the Observatory's glass dome.
"Working with her these past months has been incredible," Dorian continued, his voice warm and genuine—the same voice he used when he whispered promises to me in secret. "She's brilliant, dedicated, and beautiful."
No. This couldn't be happening.
"Which is why—" Dorian dropped to one knee.
The tray slipped from my fingers and crashed to the floor.
Nobody noticed. Everyone was watching the stage, gasping and cheering as Dorian pulled out a ring box. A massive diamond caught the light from the aligned stars above.
"Seraphina, will you marry me?"
My stepsister covered her mouth with both hands, tears streaming down her perfect face. "Yes! Oh, Dorian, yes!"
He slid the ring onto her finger—a ring I'd seen before. In his office. Hidden in his desk drawer. The ring he told me was for "someone special" when the time was right.
I thought he meant me.
They kissed, and the crowd exploded with applause. Ladies dabbed their eyes with handkerchiefs. Men clapped Dorian on the back when he stood. The Master of Ceremonies was laughing and congratulating them.
My legs wouldn't move. I couldn't breathe. The room spun around me.
This was supposed to be OUR night. Dorian promised. He said after his presentation, after he showed everyone the star maps we created together, he'd announce our engagement. He'd finally tell the world I was more than just a servant, more than the Ashford family's embarrassment.
He lied.
"But wait!" Dorian held up his hands, and the crowd quieted. His smile was still in place, but when his eyes swept across the ballroom and found me, something cold flashed in them. "There's one more announcement I need to make tonight."
My stomach twisted.
"Many of you know Celeste Ashford." He gestured toward me, and hundreds of heads turned. Hundreds of eyes locked onto me like I was suddenly visible for the first time all night. "Seraphina's stepsister works in my research office. She... helps with basic tasks. Filing. Cleaning. That sort of thing."
Whispers rippled through the crowd. I saw people's faces change—pity mixing with confusion.
"Recently, I discovered something disturbing." Dorian's voice turned serious. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick folder. "Celeste has been stealing my research. Copying my notes. Forging documents to make it look like the work was hers."
The whispers turned into shocked gasps.
"No," I whispered, but my voice was too quiet. Nobody heard me.
"I have proof right here." Dorian held up the folder, showing pages covered in handwriting—MY handwriting. "These are her forgeries. She's been claiming credit for star maps and calculations that took me years to develop."
My throat closed. Those weren't forgeries. Those were MY original notes. MY calculations. MY star maps that I'd spent three years creating, working late into the night while everyone else slept.
"That's not true!" I finally found my voice. "Those are mine! I made those maps!"
But my voice was drowned out by the crowd's murmurs.
Seraphina stepped forward on the stage, fresh tears running down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Celeste." Her voice wobbled with fake emotion. "I tried to help you. I really did. But you were always so jealous. So obsessed with taking credit for things that weren't yours."
"I'm not lying!" I pushed through the crowd toward the stage. People moved away from me like I was diseased. "Dorian, tell them the truth! You KNOW I created those maps!"
Dorian's face was cold. Distant. Like he was looking at a stranger. "Celeste, please. You're making a scene. I understand you're upset, but the evidence is clear."
"Evidence?" I laughed, but it came out choked. "Those documents have my NAME on them!"
"Yes," Dorian said calmly. "Your name. Written by you. On MY research. That's called theft, Celeste."
The Director of the Royal Academy climbed onto the stage. He took the folder from Dorian and flipped through the pages, his expression growing darker with each one.
"These are serious accusations," the Director said.
"I have more proof." Dorian pulled out additional papers. "Letters where Celeste discusses selling research secrets to rival institutions. Records showing she accessed my private files without permission."
My vision blurred. "Those are fake! I never—"
"ENOUGH!"
The voice cut through the ballroom like a knife.
Stepmother—Lady Margaret Ashford—stood from her seat in the front row. She looked magnificent in her black and gold gown, every inch the powerful noblewoman. And she looked at me with pure disgust.
"The Ashford family disowns you, Celeste." Her words rang through the silent ballroom. "You are no daughter of this house. You have brought nothing but shame to our name."
The floor tilted under my feet.
"Mother, please—"
"Do NOT call me that." Her eyes were ice. "I took you in when your father begged me to. I gave you a home, food, education. And this is how you repay us? By stealing? By lying? By trying to ruin your sister's happiness?"
"I didn't do anything!" Tears streamed down my face. "Seraphina, please, tell them—"
My stepsister looked at me with such convincing sadness. "I wish I could help you, Celeste. But I can't lie for you anymore. I'm sorry."
The Director of the Royal Academy stepped to the edge of the stage. "Celeste Ashford, your credentials from the Starkeeper Academy are hereby revoked. You are banned from all astronomical societies, research facilities, and academic institutions."
The words hit me like physical blows.
Everything. They were taking everything.
"Security," Stepmother said coldly. "Remove her. Immediately."
Two large guards appeared on either side of me. Their hands clamped around my arms like iron.
"No, wait—" I struggled, but they were too strong. "Please, just listen! I can prove those documents are fake! Give me a chance to—"
"You've had enough chances," Stepmother said. "Take her out through the back. I don't want her ruining the rest of the evening."
The guards dragged me through the crowd. Everyone stared. Some looked disgusted. Others looked pitiful. None of them helped.
I caught glimpses of faces I knew—people whose research I'd assisted with, whose calculations I'd checked, whose late-night work sessions I'd brought tea and food to.
Not one of them spoke up for me.
As the guards hauled me past the stage, I locked eyes with Dorian one final time.
He smiled.
Not the gentle smile he wore when he kissed me. Not the warm smile he gave me when we worked together late at night.
This smile was sharp. Victorious. Cruel.
He leaned down, speaking just loud enough for me to hear over the crowd: "You were useful while it lasted, Celeste. But let's be honest—you were always meant to be stepped on, not lifted up."
Something inside me shattered.
The guards shoved me through a side door into a back hallway. My feet stumbled on the smooth floor. We burst through the rear exit, and they threw me into the alley behind the Observatory.
I hit the cobblestones hard. Pain shot through my palms and knees. Rain poured down from the dark sky, soaking through the borrowed gown I'd been so excited to wear tonight.
Behind me, the door slammed shut.
Inside, I heard the orchestra start playing again. The party continued. They were already forgetting I existed.
I curled up on the cold wet stones and sobbed.
Three years of work. Three years of hoping. Three years of believing that if I just tried hard enough, worked hard enough, gave enough—someone would finally see my worth.
And it was all a lie.
Dorian never loved me. He used me.
Seraphina never cared about me. She wanted me destroyed.
Stepmother never saw me as family. I was just a burden she finally found an excuse to discard.
I pressed my forehead against the wet stone and wished I could disappear.
Then I heard footsteps splashing through puddles.
I looked up, thinking maybe—stupidly, desperately hoping—that someone had come to tell me this was all a terrible mistake.
Instead, three figures in dark cloaks emerged from the shadows at the end of the alley. They moved wrong, like their joints bent in places they shouldn't. Rain rolled off their cloaks unnaturally.
The middle figure stepped closer, and I saw his eyes.
Red. Glowing red in the darkness.
"Celeste Ashford?" His voice sounded like grinding gravel.
I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding. "Who are you?"
The figure smiled, revealing teeth that were too sharp, too many.
"We're here to finish what should have been done twenty years ago," he said. "Before you become a problem our master can't control."
The three figures spread out, blocking both ends of the alley.
I was trapped.
And somewhere above us, the seven stars of the Celestial Convergence finally aligned.