Shadows in the Library

Daniella’s P.O.V

Thursday, 12.25

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Daniella Seraphina Arison pressed her palms against the cold marble walls of the Arison estate, willing herself not to turn back. She had only been home for a single day, and already the suffocating weight of her family’s favoritism pressed against her chest like a vice. Laughter drifted from the grand hall, soft music spilling into the corridors where golden chandeliers cast dazzling light. It was her sister’s laughter that rang the loudest, of course.

Always her sister.

Lila Rose Arison, the jewel of the duke’s household, glided through the world as though it had been sculpted for her alone. Beloved by the nobility, praised by tutors, adored by servants—her presence filled every room until Daniella’s own existence seemed to shrink into nothingness.

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Daniella drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders and slipped into the one place that still belonged to her. The library.

The moment the heavy doors shut behind her, muffling the sounds of the party, she exhaled. The scent of parchment and ink wrapped around her like an old friend. Endless shelves of tomes loomed above her, filled with spells and theories, histories of forgotten kings, grimoires brimming with half-buried secrets. Here, in these shadows, she had carved out a piece of herself—one her sister had never managed to steal.

She climbed the familiar spiral stair to the second floor, where the light dimmed and dust collected undisturbed. She traced her finger along the spines of worn books, whispering the titles under her breath. Arcane Principles of Illusory Constructs. The Four Founders of the Imperial Academy. Blood Runes and the Binding of Spirits.

Her chest eased as she opened a volume and began to read. Hours slipped away unnoticed.

Until voices shattered the silence.

Daniella froze. The library was supposed to be deserted during the festivities. She pressed the book shut and ducked between shelves, heart pounding.

“…you needn’t worry, Mother,” Lila’s voice carried, sweet and melodic as always, though beneath the practiced gentleness lay steel. “I’ll make certain Daniella disgraces herself before the academy board. Once she’s expelled, she’ll be nothing more than a shadow in our house—easily cast aside.”

The duchess’s voice followed, clipped and cold. “See that you do. Your father is preparing the final arrangements for your betrothal to the crown prince. We cannot afford any embarrassment—not from your sister.”

For a heartbeat, the world stilled. Daniella pressed herself against the shelf, the rough wood biting into her palms. Her sister… her mother… plotting against her, as though she were nothing more than an obstacle to be erased.

Her throat burned. How many times had she endured their neglect? How many years had she smiled through the sting of indifference, pretending that her efforts mattered? She had studied, struggled, clawed for even a fragment of recognition, and yet here was the truth: she had never been a daughter to them, only a liability.

The weight inside her chest shifted—shattered.

Fine. If that was the role they had written for her, she would not resist it. Let them call her disgrace, failure, villain. Let them cast her into shadow. She would take that darkness into herself and sharpen it until it cut them all.

Slowly, Daniella straightened from her hiding place. The whispers of the library seemed to stir around her, the air charged with a faint hum of magic. Her reflection in the tall window caught her eye—her dark hair falling across her face, her gaze no longer meek but sharpened, aflame.

Never again would she beg for their acknowledgment. Never again would she wait for scraps of affection.

If they wanted a villain, she would give them one.

And when the time came, the house of Arison would fall with her laughter echoing in its ruins.

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