I didn't dream.
Not in the way I used to, where shadows chased me through endless corridors of memory—memories that weren't mine, regrets that belonged to a girl I had replaced.
That night, wrapped in Lillian's quiet presence and the scent of lilacs still hanging in the air, everything stayed still.
Still… and safe.
When I woke, the early morning light was just beginning to filter through the sheer curtains, casting pale gold across the floor and illuminating the faint shimmer in Lillian's hair. She was still asleep beside me, her breathing soft, her hand still tangled gently with mine.
Her fingers twitched a little, like she was dreaming.
I didn't move.
I watched her.
She looked different when she wasn't poised or teasing, when she wasn't playing the elegant, radiant heroine adored by all. Without the armor of performance, Lillian looked… human. Peaceful. Young.
And in that stillness, I allowed myself to feel the full weight of what had changed.
I wasn't just afraid of love anymore.
I was afraid of having it.
Afraid that it would make me forget who I was, or worse—remind me too much of who I used to be. The villainess with power in her eyes and blood on her hands. The original Sera Vandren.
But last night—last night had proven something. That I could choose. That love didn't have to swallow me whole. That it could be something warm, something shared, something earned.
A quiet knock at the door made me flinch.
Lillian stirred but didn't wake.
Carefully, I slipped from her side, padded across the room, and opened the door just a sliver.
It was Claire.
Messy-haired, dressed in oversized pajamas, holding a tray with two mugs of cocoa and a piece of toast she'd already taken a bite out of.
Her violet eyes blinked at me.
Then down to the tray.
Then past me, toward the unmistakable shape of Lillian still curled up in my bed.
Her brows rose—so high I thought they might disappear into her hairline.
"I knew something was going on," she whispered, a grin blooming like wildfire. "You dog."
"Claire—"
She stepped past me before I could stop her, balancing the tray in one hand while poking her head dramatically over the bed.
"Oh my god, she's still sleeping. You cuddled. You defenseless-ly cuddled. Is that a smile on her face? Are you serious?"
Lillian stirred slightly and mumbled, "Claire… too loud…"
Claire squealed and ran back to me, clutching the tray like it was a sacred artifact. "I was going to lecture you about skipping breakfast again, but this is so much better."
I grabbed her arm before she could launch into another theatrical monologue.
"Claire," I hissed. "If you tell anyone—"
"Oh, don't worry," she said cheerfully. "Your secret is totally safe with me."
Then she paused.
Grinned.
"Unless Diana asks."
"Claire—"
"Kidding!" she laughed, passing me a mug. "...Mostly."
I sighed, accepting the cocoa and quietly nudging her toward the door.
She went, but not without winking back at me. "Don't worry, Sera. I get it. You're slowly becoming the protagonist of a tragic fantasy-romance drama. I'm just here to make sure you have snacks and audience commentary."
Then she disappeared down the hall.
I stood there for a moment, cocoa in hand, wondering how someone like that could possibly make me feel seen and ridiculous at the same time.
When I turned back, Lillian was awake now, sitting up, her hair mussed from sleep.
She blinked at me, sleep still clinging to her eyes.
"I had a dream," she murmured.
"Yeah?"
"You kissed me."
I paused, halfway back to the bed. "Did I?"
She nodded, eyes closing again, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips. "It was nice."
I sat beside her and held out the other mug. "Maybe next time, you'll be awake for it."
Her eyes fluttered open, sharp and green, a spark of mischief slipping through her half-lidded gaze.
"Promise?"
I looked at her.
And just smiled.
"Maybe."
Lillian laughed softly, the sound warm and a little sleepy. Her eyes held mine, gentle yet piercing, like they were seeing more of me than I was comfortable showing. But somehow, this morning, it didn't frighten me. Instead, it felt safe—like stepping into sunlight after a long winter.
"You know," she murmured, sipping the cocoa I'd handed her, "Claire's definitely going to tell everyone, despite what she says."
I groaned softly, falling back onto the bed beside her. "I figured."
She reached out with her free hand, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. "Would that be so bad?"
I turned my head slightly to look at her. "You're okay with them knowing?"
Lillian tilted her head thoughtfully. "I'm okay with everyone knowing, honestly. But only if you are."
I stared up at the ceiling, tracing the small imperfections in the paint, buying time. My thoughts swirled—chaotic, uncertain, tinged with fear but also something else. Something fragile and hopeful.
"I think," I said slowly, softly, "I'd like to keep you to myself for just a little longer."
Her eyes widened slightly, a blush rising softly to her cheeks. "You're greedy, Lady Vandren."
I smiled. "Maybe just a bit."
She leaned closer, the mattress dipping slightly beneath her weight, her voice a whisper. "I like it."
I felt my heart stutter, my breath catching in my chest. "You're making this very difficult, you know."
"Making what difficult?" Her gaze was innocent, though the gleam in her eyes was anything but.
"Trying not to kiss you."
Her lips curled slowly, deliberately. "Who said you had to try?"
This time, I didn't hesitate.
I reached up, my fingers tracing lightly along her jaw, pulling her gently toward me. Her breath mingled with mine, sweet and soft like the scent of lilacs still floating in the air between us.
And then our lips touched, gentle and cautious at first—testing, waiting. When neither of us pulled away, I felt her relax, felt her sigh softly against my mouth, felt the tentative tenderness shift into something warmer, deeper.
She tasted like morning, like chocolate and spring air. The warmth spread through me, melting every fear and doubt that lingered in the corners of my mind.
When we broke apart, Lillian's eyes fluttered open, bright and dazed. Her breath came in soft, shallow pants, and she smiled—one of those rare smiles that was entirely genuine, free of the poised elegance she usually wore like armor.
"Worth it?" she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly.
"Definitely," I said softly.
She rested her forehead against mine, eyes closed, just breathing for a moment.
"Good," she said finally. "Because you're stuck with me now."
I laughed, letting it fill the quiet room. "I think I can handle that."
She pulled back slightly, gazing down at me. "Good. Because I wasn't really giving you a choice."
My laughter softened into a quiet, tender smile. "I figured that, too."
We stayed like that for a little longer—quiet, comfortable, just breathing in the calm and the closeness.
Eventually, she stood, smoothing down her nightgown. "We'll be late for class if we don't hurry."
I sat up reluctantly, sighing. "Reality."
"Unfortunately," she said, holding out her hand to help me up. "But the good part is—this is just the beginning."
I took her hand, warmth blooming in my chest again. "I think I can handle that, too."
Her fingers squeezed gently. "Together, then?"
I nodded, sure and steady for once. "Together."
As we walked toward class, the halls seemed different somehow—brighter, warmer. Or maybe that was just Lillian, walking calmly at my side with a smile playing at her lips and a gentle glow in her eyes. Her fingers brushed mine every few steps, not quite holding my hand but reminding me that she could if she wanted to.
When we reached the classroom, the room was already buzzing. Claire looked up the moment we walked in, a knowing grin spreading wide across her face. Diana arched a delicate brow, her emerald eyes glinting mischievously from across the room. Camille glanced up casually from her notes, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a half-smile that said she knew exactly what had happened and wasn't bothered in the slightest.
Tessa, calm as always, met my gaze briefly before nodding slightly in quiet acknowledgment.
I swallowed, feeling my cheeks heat up as we made our way to our seats.
Claire immediately leaned toward me, whispering dramatically, "You're positively glowing, Sera. Anything you want to share with the class?"
"No," I whispered sharply, trying—and failing—to suppress a smile.
"Fine, keep your secrets," Claire sighed dramatically. "But we all know."
Professor Sinclair entered the room then, her presence commanding immediate attention. Her sharp gaze scanned the room, pausing briefly when she spotted me. She adjusted her glasses, cleared her throat, and began the lecture without comment, though I thought I saw the faintest twitch of amusement in the corner of her mouth.
Class passed in a blur of notes and quiet whispers. Every time I glanced up, Lillian's eyes were on me—soft, patient, quietly affectionate. It felt strange to be watched so openly, to have someone look at me without expectation or fear.
Just as the lecture ended, Professor Sinclair raised a hand to stop us before we could leave. "Remember, everyone, the Spring Formal is approaching quickly. Preparations are well underway, and attendance is mandatory."
She looked pointedly around the room, her eyes briefly pausing on me again. "Ensure you're all appropriately attired and prepared."
Claire practically vibrated in her seat. Camille smirked knowingly. Diana stretched elegantly, pretending disinterest, but her gaze lingered on me just long enough to make her point clear.
The moment we stepped out of class, Claire practically tackled me. "Formal preparations! Dress shopping! Colors! Flowers! Do you want roses? Lilies? Something entirely scandalous?"
"Maybe we should let Sera breathe first," Camille said smoothly, placing a calming hand on Claire's shoulder.
Diana drifted toward us, tilting her head elegantly. "Though Claire does make a point. Have you thought about what you'll wear?"
I glanced toward Lillian, who smiled softly, entirely unbothered by the commotion.
"I… haven't thought about it yet," I admitted.
Diana hummed thoughtfully, a smirk curling her lips. "Then perhaps you'll let me offer some guidance?"
Claire gasped dramatically. "Absolutely not! Diana, you'll have her dressed in something outrageously extravagant—"
"And you'll dress her like a flower arrangement," Diana retorted easily.
"Perhaps we should leave the choice to Sera?" Camille interjected, raising an amused brow.
Lillian laughed softly. "Or perhaps she'll trust me to help her decide."
They all paused, eyes flicking toward Lillian and then back to me.
"Actually," I said quietly, gathering their attention again, "I'd like all of you to help."
They blinked, surprised.
Claire's face lit up like a sunrise. "Really?"
Diana arched her brow again, amused but curious. "All of us? You do know you're inviting chaos, darling."
I nodded, smiling shyly. "I think I'm getting used to chaos."
Tessa, who had been silent until now, spoke quietly from behind. "If that's what you want, Sera, then we'll make it work."
Claire pumped her fist victoriously. "You heard her! A collective effort! I'm thinking matching dresses—"
"No," Diana said immediately.
Camille laughed, shaking her head. "Let's avoid traumatizing her."
Lillian's eyes sparkled warmly, leaning closer to whisper softly, just for me. "You're brave, Sera. Very brave."
I smiled back, warmth flooding my chest. "Only because you're all here."
And as we walked forward, laughter filling the halls around us, I realized that bravery wasn't just facing fears.
It was this—embracing the chaos, the uncertainty, and knowing I wasn't alone in any of it.