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Sol Aureus Club
TW:(view spoiler)
Alianna took a deep breath and smoothed down the front of her gown, hands shaking as she did so. After the wrinkles–if there even had been–were smoothed out, she glanced up at the mirror. Taking a deep breath and staring at her reflection, Alianna aligned the jeweled circlet that arched across her head and nodded once. She could do this. After all, she owed Loren the truth, if they were really going to be together. They loved each other, and Alianna wanted to be better for him.
With that thought squarely in her mind, she picked up a bouquet of flowers and then opened the door to the bathroom, where she had been preening. With a flourish, the lady held out the flowers, the sweet scent of roses drifting to her nose. Across the hall, having been waiting for her to finish up inside, Loren sprang up from a cushioned bench, his eyes wide and glistening.
Oh, but she just wanted to place her hands on his cheeks, lean in, and give him a solid kiss on the lips before running her hands through his always-tousled light brown hair. “Lorie,” she greeted. “These are for you.” She had had them hidden in her large handbag, fresh picked from the Calico estate's garden. She could have given them to him when he picked her up to take her to the club, but she had wanted to refresh herself one more time first, so he could see her at her best. The red of the roses seemed to match the crimson eyeshadow dancing across her blue eyes that she had just put on, and her rich gown and circlet, both studded with rubies.
“Oh, Anna, they’re beautiful,” Loren now whispered, taking hold of the roses, a blush crossing his cheeks. When his eyes opened again, he transferred the roses to his left hand and held out his right. “I'll put them at our dinner table. You really cleared the whole place out?"
“Of course I did. It's our two-year anniversary.” Lord Loren Matthews, of a smaller noble Voxthain house, had nevertheless captured her heart for years before they had been been together. She had been through so much to get him here, his hand tucked safely within hers, and with him, she felt lighter. Exhilarated, on a cloud. So for their anniversary, she had used her wealth and position to attain a private dining room for them. And, fine, some of her brutal attitude mixed with a healthy dosage of batting her lashes in their direction.
Loren’s kind eyes flickered to her, and her stomach pooled with warmth upon that look and the way his eyes sparkled at his smile. “That--wow. That means so much, Anna. You look lovely by the way. Prettier than the roses.”
Her own pale, freckled cheeks flushed while her stomach dropped. This. This was that romance, that adoration and love, people spoke about. Truly, she never wanted this to end. Loren was hers, and she was his. “Aww, darling. Thank you. And you look as handsome as ever.” She moved her hand down to his, and he entwined their fingers, sending Alianna’s skin burning. Lifting their joint hands, she kissed the back of his, smiling at his soft skin. Never as soft as hers, of course, given Alianna had perfect skin, but soft all the same.
Together, they moved towards the gold-inlaid double doors leading into the vast dining room. Loren held the door for her, pushing it open, and she smiled as she stepped through, feeling like a princess from the fairy tales Father had read to her when she was little--she was his little princess, his little flame, and she knew her worth.
Outside the large windows arching around the dining room, Voxthain sprawled, stars glistening in the sky as the city's lights danced beneath them. Alianna had never been one to focus so much on beauty of the outdoors or her city, but with the dimmed lights she requested in the dining room and Voxthain twinkling like fireflies beyond the equestrian fields, she found herself breathless. Romantic, hands down.
"Oh, Anna, this is--wonderful," Loren breathed by her ear, and she eased out her own breath and gripped his hand tighter, her heart rapidly beating against her ribs. It was, well and truly.
But before she could allow herself to relax, her muscles to loosen, she had to get through telling him the truth about....her...first. For about four months now, guilt had been weighing on her, unfamiliar and heavy. It had her ill sometimes, stomach pinched while she tossed and turned in bed. Never before had Alianna felt such an emotion--not when she killed one of her servants as a younger girl. Not when she bullied Hayden at Cogsworks. Not when she taunted Artemisia and Elliot. But with Loren, she had felt it. At first she had been so unnerved. Poison, knives, none of it had ever been an issue for her.
But maybe because, she realized later, Loren was the only person she truly respected and loved. Quiet, kind, and full of joy, Lord Matthews had set her on fire since she was only fourteen, despite not being from the wealthiest noble house in the city. His effervescent energy had her captivated, her breaths shallow and pulse smattering whenever he had looked at her. He inspired her, had somehow had Alianna acting out less, believing she could be better. That she wanted to be better.
And that, and her love for him, had her doing it, finally: telling him the dark truth she had once not cared about one whit. It was funny, she knew now, what adoration could do. Nevertheless, her plan sat like a rock in her gut. Did she really want to risk this? Yes, I do, she hissed to herself in her mind. Love meant forgiveness, Mother had said before, and if Loren loved her, he’d forgive her.
"It's brilliant," she agreed quietly, trying to expel the shaking from her voice as she led him to a table by the window, overlooking the equestrian fields. He adored the horses here, and while Alianna found them to be smelly creatures, she respected Loren's like of them, and had to admit she had fun when he had her racing through the fields behind him on a horse.
With a small chuckle that warmed Alianna’s cold heart, Loren pulled out her chair. “My lady.”
And the man knew his place, too. As he should. Thanking him anyway, she settled into the chair, her glistening red dress swishing against the floor as she moved as Loren sat down across from her and set the roses in a vase. A few fresh-cut pink roses already sat on the table courtesy of the club itself, in a delicate vase, next to a flickering candle, and the red popped next to them as he placed them there. She watched him, taking in his soft movements, his nice hair, the way he meticulously and gently worked on setting up the flowers.
When he finished, she held out her arms, and Loren was happy to oblige, taking her hands in his and beaming at her. At their places sat the finest dishes and menus, though Alianna had told their server to give them a moment before he served them. Loren leaned over, and Alianna met him, pressing her lips to his. They kissed deeply across the table as her stomach pooled; everything in her wanted him closer. Wanted him. But the reminder of the truth that hung between them–the truth about Shauna Vanguard–cut the kiss short.
Anxiety buzzed, a hive of bees within her, as she tapped one ruby heel against the soft carpet, dress shifting against her leg. Alianna placed her hand between their lips when they stopped for breath, and Loren paused. “Anna?”
She took a deep breath and slowly lowered her hand. “I need to talk to you before we order, Lorie.”
His brows furrowed with worry, but he nodded, sitting back in his seat and taking a breath. “Of course. Anything.”
Good Luminos. The way his eyes stared into hers–so trusting and open and kind–part of her had an urge to scoff at his utter stupidity. You never trusted people. Ever. It was foolish to place so much faith in another person, even as she sometimes, so desperately, wanted to. Ironic she was choosing in this moment to nevertheless do that very thing. But what if those blue eyes wouldn’t trust her anymore, those lips not kiss her? Though, surely, he’d just take a few days to process it, right? At worse, he’d appreciate her honesty. Falling trap to her own trust could be her downfall.
Alianna ran her hands down his arms, admiring his slight muscle, before averting her eyes to his chest, wishing she could run her hands down that, too. But she waited, holding in the urge, and looked back up at his soulful blue eyes.
“You–you know I love you, right?”
“I do. And I love you.” He reached out, gently cupping her chin, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. So tender and sweet she nearly melted, her lips parting slightly as she clenched the white tablecloth between one of her hands.
Loren was someone she truly loved. He made being an open, respectful person seem possible and like the best option. The noble knew her rough edges, but he was always so encouraging. Plus, Alianna had been trying. She hadn’t tripped Hayden once for the past five months–that was a start, right? Or even said anything snide, but good Lux it was hard when the girl was a walking target and unfit for noble life. Still, Loren had grounded her, and each day she spent in his presence was a day she healed a little.
And healing, being better, meant no secrets between them. His kiss proved he’d love her no matter what. She took a deep breath, and offered him a small smile, leg bouncing still. Nerves. Ugh. Almost as unfamiliar as guilt, she wanted to tear her skin off. Rip it off. Get it over with.
“Well, I…I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this, but uh…I, um, was originally not going to tell you but I respect you, Loren,” she began, tapping a polished red finger on his shoulder. Alianna did not, absolutely did not, respect a lot of people. But her boyfriend was one of the few she did, even more than her father. “And it's ur anniversary, so as another gift, I wanted to. It's about Shauna Vanguard. Um.” She saw his eyes darken, muscles tensing, expression long and even more soulful and heavy, at the name alone.
Something ugly and green that had not kickstarted in years swelled like a sudden stab wound, and she grit her teeth against it and plunged on. Even behind that curtain of emerald was her dark guilt. “Her death was not an accident. It was me. I…I was jealous of her and I wanted you. So I killed her and made it look like an accident.”
There. Done. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest, allowing her to breathe easier for the first time in about a week. But it being out there, as Loren said nothing, a new one sunk into her skin like a dangerous serum, threatening to explode her at any second. She held her breath and realized her gaze had fallen to her lap during her confession. When she dragged her sight up to Loren, his eyes were wide in shock and horror while his hand shook.
“Wh-what–I–Alianna–you–killed–” Loren’s voice trembled like an earthquake, words unable to even properly exit his mouth. He scrambled back, chair scraping against the ground, as if stung by a rattlesnake, eyes almost wild as he stared at her, rounding the chair. His knuckles turned bone-white as he gripped the back of it, lips gaping.
She swallowed hard. Okay, well, shock was to be expected. “Loren, I had no choice. She was with you and I wanted you for myself.” ”If you want something, you take it." Words her father had always told her. She was the heir to the vast Calico fortune, one of the wealthiest, if not the wealthiest, person in Voxthain. Of course she got what she wanted, that was what she was born to do, to attain. This included having whatever boy she wanted…and Shauna had been a commoner, anyway. Loren's one mistake in his life had been dating a woman whose blood was dirt.
Who had truly mourned her?
“You had no choice?!” Tears glittered in Loren’s precious baby blues as he shook his head, breathing hard, vice rising into a shrill tone, like an egg on the cusp of cracking, ice about to break. “No, no, no, Alianna, why–you–you haven’t changed at all, I can't believe I thought--good gracious, you’re so much worse than you used to be–but you never had been innocent–oh gosh–why you–you tricked me–everything you said to me. It was a lie."
She stood up so fast her gown ripped, catching on the sharp end of the table, but for once that was not the first thing on her mind. I’m losing him– Raw panic clawed at her throat, constricting the breath in her lungs. “Lorie, you don’t understand! Please, just–just think about it, calm down! I have been raised to take whatever I want, to do anything to get whatever I want. And--”
“To get anything? To do anything? I am not a thing, Alianna, I am a person! And so was Shauna! She was a human being and her family was devastated. I was devastated! I thought–I always knew you were a piece of work, but I had hope for you. You’d been doing better and now–” The tears rolled down his cheeks, and Loren buried his head in trembling hands. “Alianna, you’re a murderer,” he mumbled, and when he looked up at her, his eyes had gone red, red as the blood Alianna's hands had been coated in, red as the gown cloaking every inch of her, the shimmering drops of ruby in her hair. Devastation crashed over Loren's features. “You toyed with me. Like I was nothing. You claim to love me but you killed the woman I loved before you. You’re a monster.”
Monster. Murderer. Her breaths became shallower, pulse racing viciously in her head. She’d heard it in the Cogsworks halls–a stuck-up brat. She’d heard it among servants at home–a monster. A little devil, Hayden had sneered more than once. She’d once overheard a group of servants in her estate; they’d all been shitting on her, saying how they’d rather serve anyone in her family but her.
Well.
Maybe they were right.
“I wanted you so I took you,” she spat, beginning to pace, anger clenching inside her chest. How dare he? How dare he not understand she had done this for them, that she loved and wanted him, that Shauna never would have been good enough, never accepted among Voxthain's upper crest? How did he not see she had faced her fears and respected him enough to finally give him this truth? “And–and maybe it was a bad idea but…I told you now. Because I respect you and need you to know!” It was a desperate beg; Alianna was no soldier, but she could tell she was fighting a losing battle as his eyes clouded and darkened.
“Are you even sorry?”
Alianna opened her mouth. Yes. Yes I am. No. Absolutely not. A butterfly's wings, fluttering a million miles a minute. Finally, she shrugged, her chest constricting and her eyes stinging. “I don’t know,” she whispered, but rushed around the table towards him. “But I-I-I love you, Loren, and–”
“No,” he hissed, pointing at her, backing up as she halted, feeling like he’d punched her in the stomach. “Do not take another step over here. We’re done, Alianna. You’re insane if you think I can still love and be with you after what I know. You’re crazy. Deranged. A little prick just like everyone says you are.”
Her jaw dropped. Rage began to pound like a churning storm within her, heartbeat echoing in her temples. The flame from a vanilla-scented candle on the table began to flicker and grow, sporadically. Losing control. Heating up. Steam began to hiss and sizzle from her hands. “How dare you–”
“I have to go.” Loren looked as if he may vomit, face streaked with tears, light reflecting off them as he moved to the doors.
“Go?!” She choked, blinking rapidly. “Go where–what–” No, no, no… But in the pit of her stomach, she knew. “Please, Loren. Don’t tell anyone.” My father? Mother? The options flew through her head. Aunt Esmeralda would be on her side, right? And Father, he--he wouldn't believe Loren. She jutted her chin out, lips pressed together. She had him wrapped around her fingers. Nobody in her family would believe her capable of murder, except maybe Artemisia and Alex, but nobody would believe Artemisia. She was a child. And Alex, well, he was no saint, so honestly, would he care? She was untouchable. At Cogsworks, she had the reputation of an angel, and Loren would be branded as crazy.
Okay, reputation as an angel among the staff, and some students, but she knew, with a sickening jolt in her stomach, not everyone believed that. People knew she was capable of being vile. That she wasvile, and one woman had been looking into the suspicion she had murdered Shauna since it happened. Oh no. No, no, no-- "Where?" She demanded, her voice coming out shaking and breathy, and immediately she sneered at her own weakness. Her own fears, cold in her stomach. "Don't. Don't tell."
Lored snorted. It was a cruel snort, mean, one that had her flinch even in the heat of her growing rage…and beneath that, her welling fear. Fear that made her hands shake as he grasped the door. “Are you for real? I have to tell who I have to tell. The police. The militia, so you can rot behind bars.”
The truth of it snapped her from her wild emotions.
Rot behind bars. In a facility controlled by her family. She would rather die.
“No,” she rasped. “Anyone–but–them–”
“Alianna this is not a fucking game! I have a moral duty to tell the militia that you murdered someone on Cogsworks property, lady or not.” Hate mixed with grief in his eyes, his words choking over one another.
She stared. Yes, he did have that duty. But…but….this would mean it was over. Her life. Her goals. Her dreams. Her freedom. Alianna was born to be a councillor, a famous, prosperous Voxthain lady, Father said. Not born to be locked up for the rest of her life. At the taunting mercy of her. Oh, it sent shudders down her spine, because she could see it, the cold, victorious smirk on Sergeant Hayden's face as she slipped meals through the bars of Alianna's cell--no. Luminos, no. She sneered.
There was one way out of this. Just one, that had crossed her mind now. But was the price of her freedom one she was willing to pay? A devastating, horrible price. A bloody price. Her heart felt as if someone had shattered it with a knife as her breath caught. Blown it into millions of tiny pieces. She’d thought she’d done the right thing, telling Loren. But it had wrecked her relationship in a way her selfish, overconfident mind hadn’t even considered.
For a moment, it felt to Alianna as if the world stopped, and all she could think about was Loren–their first kiss and the way it had set her on fire; her strong desire to always be a better person when he was around; the way he smiled encouragingly, his blue eyes bright and glistening; his surprising her with a homemade cake and flowers for her birthday for the past two years; his dances with her at the Calico and Delacroix balls; the way she’d even sacrificed so much time and energy for him. She’d wanted to. But now–now he’d tell the Haydens and they'd arrest her, and Alianna would spent her life stuck, away from the world and her goals and desires. And Loren would move on and find someone else, some other woman, and neither one of these would sit well at all.
Well, everyone who called Alianna Athena Calico a monster was right.
But all monsters have some heart, right? A little light in the darkness? Or perhaps that was the last shred of goodness remaining, until it was snuffed out in an irredeemable action. An action such as the one Alianna was about to make.
“Loren, I–I’m sorry,” she choked, and lunged for him. She wasn’t a trained soldier, had no idea how to wield a sword or gun. But a knife? Being lithe and quick on her toes? Now that the lady was an expert in, and before Loren could make a move, Alianna had taken his own knife from its sheath at his waist, holding the handle wrapped in one of the silk napkins from the table, which she’d grabbed to dab at her eyes with. “But I can’t have you ruining my life.”
And with that, eyes blurred and cheeks stained, heart in two and part of her mind–the sliver of morality Loren had unlocked within her–screaming at her to stop, Alianna stabbed the knife through her boyfriend’s chest, right where she knew the heart to be. Poison could have been cleaner, she knew, but she did not have that time. Loren now choked, staggering backwards, and slammed into a wall.
Blood, bright and crimson--eerily scarlet like the roses she had brought him in this dark--gushed from the wound, and Alianna shoved the knife in further. Healers could probably fix the wound if they found him in time, with their magic, so Alianna had to make sure he was dead before that. He started to cough, horror, shock, hate, and grief all pooled together in a expression of utter pain on his face as blood dripped from his lips and rolled down his chin.
Blood was a lovely color, Alianna believed. Red was, in fact, her favorite.
But not on Loren.
“Alianna–” He choked, reaching a stained hand out to her.
“Loren,” she whispered, and sank to shaking knees, taking her with him, stomach heaving as her blue eyes took in what she’d done–killed the only man she’d ever truly loved, someone who adored her and who had had such high hopes for her. “I’m sorry you thought I could be someone I never was,” she whispered, but she hadn’t expected the grief, the guilt, to hit her this hard, and seconds later, as life faded from those eyes she loved so much, she broke down into more tears than she’d ever cried in her life.
Loren had been part of her world.
But he’d been about to take away the rest of it.
The part she’d been born for.
In the end, there had really been no choice at all. Or one choice, and she had taken an irredeemable path. She had to get out of here before the server came, figure out next steps. But for now, Alianna could only weep, surrounded by a romantic dinner, blood, and a dead boyfriend she had though she loved so much.
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The world spun as Alianna stared at the papers, hands shaking. Her plan, her future, her world had been perfect. She knew the exact way it would all come together: with herself in a seat of Voxthain's power, and one day, the head of the Calico house and its sprawling fortune. She would be the most powerful woman--no, the most powerful person--in the city. She had learned Councillor Katarina Hayden had decided to step down to better be able to run the militia and be with her family. Voxthain had been a buzz of activity since her announcement, murmuring about who would be her replacement of the people who had signed up to run.
Alianna had known, in her head, it would be her. Her family had always had a seat on the Council until her father had stepped down after his sister's death had become too much for him to handle a few years ago. In that gap, there had been no Calico in that seat of power, and now, Alianna planned to change that. After all, what better way could she make a splashy comeback than replacing a disgusting Hayden of all people? But she had been up against a few other people, and most, she hadn't been all that concerned about. A few random people from Voxthain's citizenry, and then--her stomach had lurched, looking at the people who had been running. Her. Caledonia Hayden, the people's favorite noble, the woman Alianna had always wanted to kill and put down, whose very face had her wanting to take her polished nails and slam them into her eyes.
Admittedly, her anxiety had spiked when she had seen that, but truly--Alianna was prettier, she was a true noble, she belonged in power, in Council. Wasn't she a shoo-in?
Apparently not. It wasn't like too many people had known about the subtle, small ways she had tried to smear Hayden's campaign. Had they? Every single adult Alianna crossed had always been given one of her winning smiles, her sugary, sweet grins with her eyes sparkling. Cogsworks professors adored her, especially her science and evocation teacher. Her parents were in the palm of her hand. Aunt Esmeralda was her biggest fan, always cheering her on. Now, even Alianna could admit she didn't exactly play nice with people who didn't deserve it--commoners, citizenry, people like both Haydens siblings who polluted noble bloodlines--but really, who would actually know about that enough to not elect her?
Apparently, a lot of people.
Staring down at the paper now, she felt her life shatter before her. Council had no set term. You would stay as long as you were doing well, as long as you were not pressured out, or as long as you didn't retire if that was the case. Alianna would never see a day on Council. But this had been what she had wanted, since she was a child. To be able to twist people she worked with to push her own family's agenda forward. To manipulate them with all the skills she effortlessly had gained over the years--cunning, patience, just the right amount of false respect until she was able to stab them in the back. Except Lorelei Delacroix and Lucien Wyver, as much as she turned her nose up at the Ellington-Wyvers after their miserable decision to pull a Hayden and adopt a commoner. Regardless, this spot was supposed to be hers.
A red sheen began to crawl its way across Alianna's eyes, her chest going tight as her heart pounded against her ribs at twice its speed. Burning heat flared in her gut, getting hotter with each passing second until her rage was flaring, boiling. The one name in the papers--and okay, even Alianna knew the Seavey papers were manipulative, just like that family--but that name couldn't be a lie. She knew exactly who had won that election.
Caledonia Hayden.
She had never been taunted so damn much.
And Alianna had never wanted to watch her choke on her own blood so badly before. With a scream, she crushed the paper between her hands, her blood-red, sharpened nails puncturing it, right between the asshole's name. How dare she, how dare they?
Alianna Calico was the princess. She was the wealthiest, the prettiest, the most powerful heir, as far as she was concerned, anyway. She had a pure noble bloodline--her father's forays with a servant were absolutely disgusting, and Artemisia would never amount of half of what Alianna, Isley, Aiden, and even Alex did--whereas Hayden was born in the slums of a different continent. She wasn't even from Voxthain, and yet, she had won that election.
Rigged. It had to be rigged. There was no way in hell someone would choose that cold-hearted bitch over Alianna. What had happened, was this nepotism? Had Katarina Hayden been so popular everyone just wanted her fake daughter in a seat of power? Over Alianna? Alianna was noble, poised from birth to take this position, to take power. And she had been beaten by a foreign orphan. This had to be wrong, this had to be. Voxthain was slipping, city of poise and elegance had chosen the crass militia brat over her. Rigged, cheated, something must have happened, she demanded a recount.
Alianna slid down against the doorframe of the entryway in the estate, breaths shallow as her head pounded, a rushing of water seeming to roar within her mind. She hit the cold ground with a thud, but for once couldn't begin to think of the dirt now clinging to her red silken dressing gown. The Calicos had long subscribed to getting the paper every day, and she had woken up early this morning to attain the news.
No. The whole city would know that Alianna had lost out to the Hayden bitch. Bile stung the back of her throat, and she jerked her head up to stare to her left, back at the foyer. Nobody. She squeezed her eyes shut and placed a hand over her eyes, a knot of tension squeezing her muscles. Nobody could see her, she had to hide, to get up and move before someone could look at her with pity, could offer their condolences. Surely, though, Father would fight this, right? He had connections, he had power, he had once been a Councillor himself--
And had stepped down when he could no longer focus on anything except his spiced wines and women. Bitterness erupted in Alianna's chest, her lips curling into a sneer. He had disgraced himself, as far as she saw it, and what good would his fighting for her even do? How could she possibly hold her head up high after this, go anywhere without people watching her in sympathy, in pity, how was she expected to go on, back to Cogsworks, and have to see Hayden?
Dread churned with the rage bubbling within her, and she leaned her head back against the doorframe, the soft morning light cutting above the treeline in the distance. The breeze lifted the ends of her hair, and she stared, her breaths still stilted as her hand shook, paper crumbled within it. She--
"Alianna?"
A lurch jolted through her, and she bolted upright, turning to face the foyer. At the foot of the polished stairs, her father stood, one jeweled hand gripping the bannister, his brows pinched, dressing robe on. He didn't look good, and she fought a disgusted sneer at how hungover he probably was.
"What are you doing up so early?" He asked, taking a step towards her.
The edges of the paper pressed against her skin poking it, and Alianna swallowed hard. No, no, no-- This was not supposed to happen, she was not supposed to see anyone until she figured out how to fix this, because everyone would know Lady Alianna Calico had not made Council. She would come across as weak, as vulnerable, and this meant Voxthain would fall further than it already had.
"Go away, Father," she ground out, her cheeks flushing. The Calicos, the wealthiest and one of the most powerful families in Voxthain, and she was failing, she was...hurt. It should have been me. I was the one who was set to win this. Not some dirty orphan. Me.
Father paused, a few feet from her now. "Allie, I don't--what happened?"
He had been a Councillor, and it was humiliating that she would never follow in his footsteps, gain this ability to change Voxthain, support her family name, and get what she believed she was owed from birth. Rage crackled, spitting like a bonfire within her, and she took a breath and stepped towards her father, slamming the crushed paper into his chest.
"Someone rigged the election, or cheated," she ground out as her father stumbled back and grasped at the paper, pulling it from her hand and opening it with a frown.
She couldn't bare to watch him open it and read her failures, broadcast for the whole fucking city to see. To make her, Lady Alianna Calico, heiress, a laughingstock. A failure. A tingle trickled down Alianna's spine, and she gritted her teeth before storming off, her freckles popping against her now-ruddy cheeks, the color flushing up her neck and into her ears.
Someone was going to pay. Voxthain's people, thinking they could elect some nobody to Council, some hardass who had no shred of diplomacy in her body, someone who had weaseled her way into nobility when she was fit for nothing except begging for scarps at Alianna's ruby-slippered feet. Sickness spread within her as she turned and ran from the room, pounding up the twisting staircase, hands trembling.
You will pay. If it's the last thing I do.
"Allie. Allie!" Father's voice echoed through the foyer, bouncing off the gilded staircase and gold-inlaid chandeliers, but Alianna didn't stop, the cool air she had let in chilling her skin and sending the hair on her arms standing up on edge. It didn't take the edge off the heat inside her, however, fingers curled into fists as hatred and rage danced a dangerous tango inside her, blood burning as she stalked up the stairs and towards her room.
When she slipped into her rooms, she slammed her door, the echo reverberating down the hallway. Her breaths choked, that gurgling hate and humiliation loosing in a feral scream. Fire burst along the tips of her fingers, and she swept a golden pitcher of water from where it stood by her door, sending it crashing to the ground and shattering. Water spilled everywhere, sloshing against her wall and soaking into her feet through the silk of her slippers. Toes wet, she shuddered, kicking her shoes off, and then turned and aimed at the water-covered floor.
Burst after burst of hot fire erupted from her hands, with each one a scream as she released as much fury as she could, leaving her marble floor unscathed from the water she knocked over.
My job, that was my position, you bitch. I'm the princess of stories, I'm the most powerful person and I was going to bring Voxthain back on track. That was mine since birth. Each thought punctuated with a burst of fire, drowning out the knocks, the rattling of her doorknob from her father in the hallway.
When sweat beaded her hairline, Alianna stopped, chest heaving, and stared at the mess she had made. Her insides still sparked, and her stalked across the room, sloshing through sizzling, steaming water on the floor, and knocked over her jewelry box with one swipe of her arm. Glistening diamonds, rubies, necklaces, and bracelets tumbled, the box cracking as it landed with a horrific, satisfying crash as she stared, pretending it was Hayden's body she threw off a cliff instead.
If only.
One day, maybe she could.
The thought was the only ray of sunshine in the roaring darkness inside her head, the storm churning within her heart. But she would have to wait, and plot, but how could she do that here, when Voxthain would always now see her as the lady who didn't make Council?
Deep down, maybe Alianna logically knew it was because more than half of the people electing Councillors were just that--the people, not the nobles, and that Alianna, at Cogsworks, indeed had a reputation of being a sadistic bully towards people like that. What was this, some form of deluded payback?
No. It can't be. Nobility are better, we are meant to rule, to guide. To be better. The election was rigged. It was rigged, or Hayden had cheated, or had the benefit of nepotism. That was the only situation that would make sense, and yet. And yet. Alianna refused to go out into Voxthain, into school, into galas or her cousin's manor with failure draped across her shoulders like a fur cape. Especially loss to Hayden of all people. Her jaw tightened. Disgusting excuse of a human being.
Her blue eyes scanned her room, draped in frills, silks, velvets, all deep scarlets, crimsons, and shades of blinding gold, the very lap of luxury and opulence. The world, the city, was hers one day, Father had always said, a smile in her blue eyes. You take it, Allie. You're a force to be reckoned with, my flame. And she would. She would be the whirlwind, coming back to retake her proper place, but she needed time, a real plan, a way to regain the power Hayden had stolen from her, and she couldn't get that here. Not when she would have to face people, her cousins, the sneering pity Aunt Esmeralda and Lorelei Delacroix would dole out, not when every day she'd have to see Hayden and watch her do Alianna's job. She'd gloat, she'd smirk and gods above help her, but she wanted her dead.
Alianna had for awhile now, but this deep-seated thirst for her blood spilling over her hands had never been so sharp before. One day, she vowed, and before she knew what she was doing, she had knelt and grabbed a suitcase from under her bed, placing it atop a chair.
One day, Caledonia would die, either from Alianna's poison, her knives, or her fire. She had never deserved life, and it wasn't like she seemed to enjoy it much anyway. It was the one golden thread keeping Alianna sane as she threw in as much jewelry, tiaras, gemstones, shawls, shoes, and silken dresses as she could fit into two suitcases: that she would come back changed, stronger, with a plan, where she would not have to see her family's disappointment, the world's pity, Hayden's taunting green eyes.
She would come back with revenge on her mind and in her soul, and she would come back, pretending to be so sorry for running that her family would burn the world for her. And then, she'd collect her due.
She'd have her there, on the ground, bleeding out. Choking. Dying.
Transmutation had never been her best form of magic, but she would do what she could now. Sending messages was necessary, so she knew enough to now cast a spell to do so. It would be the last anyone heard from her for awhile, she had decided.
Councillor Hayden--my deepest, sincerest congratulations. Enjoy it while it lasts. You don't deserve this, you common-born foreign bitch. Anyway, my best wishes, as always. Love, Alianna
She smiled, almost laughing as she sent her message, zipping up her last suitcase.
Alianna Calico would return, and she'd return as a wildfire. And she would burn Hayden's world to the ground, and anyone that stood in her way.
