The hotel suite was too white.
Not the peaceful kind of white. The expensive kind. Glass everywhere. Marble everywhere. Light pouring in through the whole room from floor to the ceiling and the windows like it had something to prove. It made the room looked so spotless,very unreal, like nobody had ever truly lived in it at all.
Seraphine Vale sat so quietly on a cream spotless fur chair that must probably worth more than most people's yearly salary. The robe was wrapped around her body like it belonged there , it fitted her so perfectly. Like it had always been waiting for her. A towel sat on her head up high , twisted very carelessly, the way she liked it. She held her wine glass so loosely, not in a rush to drink.
She took a small slow sip.
Then another.
She didn't even realize she was smiling until the warmth spread through her whole chest. The quietness . The control. No voices. No commands at all . No fear hiding behind her ribs. It was so calm. Too calm, maybe. But she didn't push the whole thought away. She let herself to enjoy it.
A knock came in .
So Sharp and Clean but Uninvited.
"Come in," she said with her voice so steady, softer than she felt.
Marcus Hale , her manager stepped inside the room like he always did measured, precisely and unreadable. A sleek leather case rested in his right hands . He didn't tried looking around the room. He never did at all .
"Everything is already ready," he said. "The car is waiting. The flight is confirmed. You'll arrive just before the party begins."
Seraphine nodded quietly and her eyes drifted over to the room instead of meeting at his. The glass. The wine , faint scent of jasmine flower lingering in the air. Every detail mattered. It always had.
"Good," she said.
This was a stage. She knew that. She had built it herself. And tonight—
Tonight was the first act.
The maids arrived quietly, almost like shadows. One carried a tray. Another held a long box. Shoes. Jewelry. Makeup. Dresses were folded so neatly it was almost already so intimidating. They laid everything out across the marble floor with careful hands, like pieces on a big chessboard.
No mistakes were allowed.
She didn't speak while they were working . She let them undress her, redress her, adjust things that didn't really need adjustments at all . The towel was removed, her hair spilling so free, dark waves cascading down to her back Someone brushed it in moderation. Someone else fixed the part. A silk red dress slid over to her skin, cool at first, then so warm and Simple. Dangerous in its simplicity.
Makeup followed Light and Sharp. Enough to draw attention from all angles . Not enough to give anything away.
When they were done the room felt so different. Quieter but Heavier.
She stood before the big long mirror and studied her reflection a little longer than necessary.
Seraphine Vale.
Not any girl Not a memory. Not someone who begged or was being broked or disappeared.
She barely recognized the person staring back at her on the mirror —and that pleased her.
Outside, the car waited so patiently.
The city blurred past her the tinted windows as she settled into the back seat. Neon lights streaked across the car glass then it vanishes. The hum of the engine filled the whole silence, She counted the seconds between streetlights without realizing why.
The airport came and went in a very smooth haze. Private but terminals. Polite nods. No questions at all . The plane lifted into the sky so quietly almost gently. Seraphine watched the world shrink beneath under her clouds drifting past like a veil.
For a moment just one memories tried to surface.
Hands. Voices. A name that died and no longer belonged to her.
She shut the door on it.
Not this night.
Hours later, the familiar skyline appeared beneath her Home or something close to it. The plane landed so smoothly. A black car was already waiting, engine running, door opening before she sould even reached to it.
She stepped inside without no hesitation.
The estate loomed so ahead, glowing under a very soft golden lights Music drifted through the whole air heavy Laughter Glasses clinking. Celebration. She stepped out of the big black car with her red dress swaying slightly as she walked in beautifully. Conversations faltered. Heads turned around . Whispers following her like a ripple through waters.
Some faces showed recognition.
Most didn't at all.
A hand reached out to her . A greeting ,Polite and Formal. She smiled just enough to pass as graciousness. Marcus guided her toward the VIP section her presence leaving a subtle tension behind her.
The gift opening just began.
Boxes were collected around for the celebrant and an Applaused followed. Then a very small carefully wrapped box was opened first it was Seraphine's gift , she was so delighted.
Music spilled into the room.
Soft but very Delicate and Familiar.
A ballet melody.
Elowen frozed on the stage.
Just for a second Barely unoticeable. Her fingers brushed through the box, her smile faltered before she forced a very laugh. Polite and Perfect but Fake.
That music been played from that gift had belonged to someone once.
Someone who was gone already .
Seraphine lifted her glass and took a slow and steady sip, her lips curving slightly to a smirk Not a smile. Something really sharper.
I'm here.
The music continued. Conversations resumed after the whole gift opening. Champagne flowed. But the air had changed and She felt it and loved it . She leaned back watching and listening, memorizing every reactions being made.
The night was so long.
And this
This was just only the beginning.