Elara's POV,
I'm on the upper balcony when they arrive.
I hear the heels clicking on marble and smell the perfume drifting upward. Their voices are so loud. I take a sip of my champagne, and sneer. Seraphina.
And Lucien's mother. I know she was going to arrive that morning because I'd heard the servants talking. It irks me that Lucien didn't deem it fit to inform me.
Speaking of things irking me, Lucen and I haven't spoken for more than a while. It irritates me almost as much as noticing even does.
I can't help it. The rooms are quieter when he's not there. Recently, I've found myself looking in any room I enter for him.
I lean against the balustrade, laptop forgotten beside me, and look down like the queen I am.
The mistress of this mansion.
Celene Kòrvac enters first.
She doesn't look up immediately; she clearly never does. Women like her expect the world to tilt its head for them, not the other way around. Seraphina follows, dressed in something yellow and expensive, already wearing that fake martyr smile.
I don't move, just keep sipping from my champagne cup.
Celene finally glances up. Her eyes pin me, and they narrow, assessing me.
"So," she says, voice carrying easily. "That's her."
My eyes drop dangerously low, and I tilt my head. Seraphina whispers something to her, and her face turns ugly. "She looks… smaller than I imagined."
I smile.
"I'm sorry." My voice comes out light and deceptively sweet. "I can't hear from up here. Mind speaking up?"
"You insolent child." Celene snaps, "Is that how you were taught to greet your elders?"
I grin, spreading my arms.
"Welcome," I say pleasantly. "I would offer tea, but I wasn't informed I'd be hosting visitors today."
Seraphina scoffs, and Celene's lips thin.
"How irresponsible," Celene says coolly. "Lucien truly has interesting taste. The lady of the home should always be aware of when she has visitors."
"Funny," I reply. "But I believe the said visitors should wait outside before being invited in."
Seraphina steps forward, tilting her head. "You should show more respect. This is Lucien's mother."
I look at her with cold eyes. Then back at Celene.
"Oh, I know who she is."
Celene smiles at that. "Then you should know your place."
Something old coils in my chest. Know my place? I straighten.
"My place," I say softly, "is where I'm standing. My place is here. Where's yours?"
The air tightens.
Celene gestures toward Seraphina without looking at her. "She lacks breeding. No surprise. You can tell by the way she speaks."
Seraphina hums in agreement. "I heard she has quite a past. It's no wonder she could snag Lucien with a child. I'm a hundred percent sure he isn't even Lucien's. I haven't seen the boy."
Ah. How I wish Asher weren't Lucien's.
Celene frowns, "Where's the boy?"
I drop the glass on the table beside me. "You mean my son?"
"Show me this child you ensnared my son with!" She snaps, and my face turns ugly. I glance at the side table near the wall. There's a crystal pitcher of water waiting for the right moment.
Celene continues, "How dare you?! Lucien will tire of you. Men always do when novelty wears thin. Asher, however—"
I move before she finishes the sentence.
I take the pitcher and pour it down on them. The water spills over Seraphina first. Her hair darkens, her makeup runs, and her scream pierces the hall.
Then I tilt my wrist and let the rest cascade onto Celene's silk blouse. It soaks in, heavy and humiliating.
The silence afterwards is satisfying. I set the empty pitcher down carefully.
"Since you know so much about what the lady of a home should do," I say calmly. "You should also know, as a lady, she won't tolerate any sort of insult to her family."
Celene's eyes widen, and she snarls.
"You will regret this," she says.
I tilt my head, calm. "Try me."
She suddenly storms upstairs, eyes feral and mad. "You insolent woman! Just who do you think you are talking to?!"
She reaches up to where I am standing, and I fold my arms. "I know who you are. The right question should be, do you know who I am?"
She gasps and grits her teeth. Seraphina yells from below. "Elara, you are so disrespectful!"
I sneer down at her. "Oh, do shut up. This is between family!"
"I would never be your family!" Celene stomps her feet. "Never!"
I pout, "That's hurtful."
"Hurtful?" She fists her palm. "Hurtful is what you've done to my son, trapping him in a relationship—"
"If only you knew," I mutter, rolling my eyes.
"He doesn't want you!" She continues. "You wouldn't last. I promise you! I would make sure you leave!"
"But you forget," I tilt my head, taking a step closer to her. She steps back. "You're the guest here. If someone should leave, it should be you."
Her face turns red, and she raises her hand. "You stupid—"
I catch her wrist mid-air, holding it firmly. "Hit me, and I promise you'll remember this day for the rest of your short life."
She snatches her hand from mine and stumbles back. Her eyes flash, venom spilling. "You think you belong here, don't you? Short blonde hair, cheap clothes, a whore trying to play mother!"
I let a slow smirk creep across my face.
"I suggest you choose your next word very wisely." I drawl out, voice smooth. "Say the wrong thing, and you'd find out just how carefully I can break an old lady's bones."
Her eyes flash, anger and fear wrestling for dominance. "Break? You think I'm afraid of…"
I step closer, letting the quiet hum of tension stretch between us. "Afraid? Oh, you'll be afraid… not of me, not exactly. Don't do something that forces him to choose between you and me."
Her jaw tightens. I can smell her certainty cracking, and her carefully built walls trembling.
"I wonder," I whisper, letting each word brush her like a knife, "how much you'll regret speaking before you touch me. How long it will take for the house, the servants… even your own thoughts, to turn against you when you realise… control is no longer yours."
Her hands twitch, lips pressed tight. I smile wider.
"Go on, try me," I whisper, my voice is playful now. "I dare you."
I see the hesitation flicker in her eyes. This woman might've once been a queen of venom. But she's met her mirror. And it isn't pretty.
"Look closely, Celene… see who really controls this house."