Isadora, once a Count's daughter, now had to prostitute herself just to keep the roof from falling and to feed the man who drank away every single coin. Her hands, once soft from holding fans at garden parties, were now blistered from cleaning streets. Her eyes lost their shine, her back always hunched from exhaustion. Everything she dreamed about, the love, the romance, the sweet little house with flowers and sunlight, it was all fake. A made-up illusion she forced herself to believe in.
And just when she thought things couldn't get worse, she found out she was pregnant.
With Seraphina.
Panic hit her like a wave. How could she raise a child in a place like this? With a man like him? She didn't want her daughter to wake up hungry every day. To hear her father shouting. To see her mother cry behind closed doors. Isadora was terrified that Seraphina would suffer the same way she did, or worse.
So she made a decision. A drastic one.
Every night, she watched her husband drink himself into a stupor at the same exact time. She memorized everything, how long he'd stay awake, when he'd pass out cold. Then one day, she covered her face with a scarf, traveled to the next town over, and bought poison from a shady herbalist. Just one small bottle.
That night, while he was laughing at nothing with a drink in hand, she poured it into his liquor. He never saw it coming. He died right there, slumped over the table with a bottle still in his grip. And she staged the whole thing to look like alcohol poisoning. No one questioned it. Just another drunkard who pushed his luck too far.
She cried at the funeral. Not for him. For everything she had lost, and everything she was about to gain.
With nowhere to go and Seraphina still just a baby in her arms, she wandered until she found herself working as a maid at House Ravelle. She kept her head low and did her work quietly, but every second she was scrubbing floors, she was thinking. Planning. Watching.
She was tired of being powerless. Tired of love stories that ended in pain. One day, she looked at herself in the mirror and made another decision. She was never going to live like that again.
Marquess Edric Ravelle was a man with too much wealth and too little soul. His wife had been dead for two years. He was greedy, gluttonous, and easy to fool, and that made him the perfect target.
Isadora used her beauty like a weapon. She made him believe he saved her. Told him a carefully twisted version of her story, how she'd fallen from grace, how she had nothing, how she needed someone to protect her. He loved it. Ate it up. It made him feel powerful.
She seduced him. Played him like a puppet. And soon, she wasn't just the maid anymore; she was the Marchioness of the Ravelle household.
From that moment on, everything changed.
But there was one problem: Liora Ravelle. The first Marchioness's only daughter. The rightful heir to everything. Smart, elegant, and too much like her late mother. Isadora hated that.
To her, Liora was nothing but an obstacle standing in the way of Seraphina.
And so, slowly, she started tearing her down. Taking her dresses, her place at the table, her jewelry, her books, bit by bit, everything that was Liora's became Seraphina's. She turned the staff against her, making her feel like an outsider in her own home.
All while wearing a smile.
Seraphina never asked for any of it. She was just a girl who grew up with nothing, no toys, no friends, no safe home. When her mother suddenly became a noblewoman and dressed her in silk and jewels, she didn't know how to act. But deep down, she didn't care about any of it.
All she really wanted... was a sister.
She saw Liora as her real sister. She wanted to braid her hair. Walk in the garden with her. Share secrets and laugh over silly things. She tried, again and again, to get close.
But Liora always pushed her away. And how could she not? Every time she turned around, something else was taken from her and handed to Seraphina. And worst of all, Isadora made sure to hurt her, slap her, insult her, break her down.
Seraphina saw it all. But she was scared. Scared to stand up to the mother who gave her everything. Scared to lose it all. And even though her heart broke every time Liora cried or walked away from her, she stayed silent.
She pretended. She played the role. In front of her mother, she acted like she hated Liora, too. But secretly, in small ways, no one noticed, she protected her. Took the blame for things. Covered up her mistakes. Hid her tears.
No one ever noticed. Not even Liora.
Now they both grew up. Liora is two years older than Seraphina, and she's 18 now. Her coming-of-age ceremony preparations had already started.
All coming-of-age ceremonies were usually held in Auremere Palace, a huge palace under the royal family's authority. Built with shining white marble, tall pillars, and giant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, it was the kind of place only nobles could enter. Everything about it screamed luxury and power. It was also the perfect place to introduce noble daughters to the rest of high society.
And for Edric Ravelle, this was the time to show off his daughter to the world as a potential bride. A marriage candidate from the Ravelle family could get him more status, more power, exactly what he always wanted.
Liora had long blonde hair and soft brown eyes. She didn't wear anything flashy or try to look fancy. But even then, there was something really beautiful about her. Her face looked calm and peaceful, like someone who didn't need to try hard to stand out. Just looking at her made people turn their heads, even if they didn't understand why.
And maybe that's why some people hated her without even knowing it.