Ayla's POV
I couldn't sleep that night.
Not because I didn't want to. After my chaotic first day at Solaria, I would've killed for rest. But there was a chandelier the size of a UFO glaring down at me like it had a personal grudge.
And the worst part?
My master wanted it on.
According to Her Royal Highness, she "likes to see who she's living with."
And who am I, a scholarship girl, to argue with royalty?
So I lay there on the fancy couch, my temporary exile zone, wrapped in my thin blanket, staring up at that glowing monster.
I counted the sparkles. Two hundred and thirty-six of them.
Of course I knew, because I counted them over and over while that magnificent wall clock ticked proudly like it was showing off.
At some point, exhaustion won.
I must have dozed off because my eyes were forced open by a loud sound that sliced through my daze. A bell. Loud, metallic, sharp.
For a second, I thought I was dead and heaven had an alarm system. Then I realized it was the school's wake-up bell.
I jolted upright so fast I nearly fell off the couch.
I pulled my blanket away and froze. This wasn't my blanket. It was thick, soft, neatly tucked around me. Definitely not the cheap one I had last night.
"That… wasn't mine," I muttered, frowning. The chandelier above me was off too.
"Did I do that? When?"
I blinked. Once. Twice.
"Did I sleepwalk? Could it be that I stood up in the middle of the night, went into her room, scolded her, and yanked her blanket away from her?"
I tapped my head quickly. "No, no way."
"Or did the Queen of Cruelty actually take pity on me and cover me with a thicker blanket?"
My mouth hung open. Even my brain didn't want to believe that.
"No, that's not possible," I said, brushing it off with a wave of my hand. "She'd rather see me burn under that chandelier or freeze under this cold. I definitely sleepwalked. Yes, that's it. No wonder Mum always complained about my bad sleeping habits."
The bell rang again, louder this time, like it could wake the dead.
I sprang into motion, fixing the couch, brushing imaginary dust off it like I was erasing evidence of my existence.
From downstairs, I could hear muffled chaos. Hairdryers, chatter, and the bark of dorm monitors doing inspections. But up here, on Elena's private penthouse floor, it was eerily silent. No knocks. No prefects yelling about bed corners. Just stillness.
"Perfect," I muttered. "Even authority fears this floor."
I rushed into the bathroom and started my three-minute morning miracle. My sharp mouth wasn't my only talent. I had another one: getting ready in minutes and still looking as good as someone who took an hour.
To most, it was panic. To me, it was precision.
Teeth brushed.
Uniform on.
Hair mostly okay.
Ponytail? Never again. Not breaking the queen's rule twice.
I was halfway through tying my tie when I realized I hadn't seen her this morning.
"Could it be she's already left? Wow, so she's not only evil but also punctual," I muttered.
But before I could finish that thought, I heard a faint sound.
"Is there anyone else living here with us?" I whispered, turning—and froze.
Elena was on a mat in the corner of the sitting room, doing yoga.
At six in the morning.
I glanced at the clock again. 6:15.
"Maybe the bell rang early. That's why she isn't getting ready for school," I muttered. "Because who does yoga at this time when everyone else is running around like their grades depend on it?"
At 6:15 a.m., while I was halfway between panic and caffeine withdrawal, she was stretching like a calm goddess who didn't need to rush for anything. Her uniform jacket lay folded neatly nearby, her long hair tied in a perfect bun that somehow made her look both royal and terrifying.
Of course she wasn't rushed. She was Elena Morgan, the overpampered granddaughter of Solaria's founder. The girl whose last name was literally carved into the front gate.
"Good morning," I whispered, because silence felt heavier than her presence.
No answer. Not even a glance.
Not that I expected one. Honestly, it was better if she didn't.
I grabbed my bag and made a quiet escape.
By the time I got downstairs, it was already 6:25.
Everywhere was alive. Perfume clouds, glossy shoes, laughter that sounded too expensive for this hour. Everyone looked like they'd been awake since 4 a.m. just to sparkle.
Meanwhile, I made my way to the cafeteria, still trying to remember if I brushed my hair or just threatened it.
The cafeteria was already packed.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, smaller cousins of the monster one in Elena's dorm. The tables gleamed with gold trim, the chairs velvet. Even the buffet looked like it was auditioning for a royal banquet.
I held my tray tight and moved forward, pretending I belonged here.
The scent of baked bread and coffee filled the air, along with the weight of eyes.
Conversations faded as I passed. Whispers replaced them—soft, sharp, slicing.
Is she really staying in the queen's dorm?
Look at her dark circles. She must've seen the younger brother of hell in Elena's hands.
Serves her right for talking back.
I pretended not to hear.
Then someone laughed.
"Eeeh, look who's here."
My heart sank before I even turned.
Three girls. Elena's circle. The orbiters.
Perfect hair, perfect nails, perfectly cruel.
Their leader, Vivienne, stepped up with a smirk sharp enough to cut glass.
"Oh look, charity just walked in without her sponsor," she announced loud enough for everyone to hear.
Laughter rolled through the tables.
I kept walking. Or tried to.
Vivienne and her two shadows stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
"Why so quiet?" she teased. "Yesterday you had a tongue. Talked back to Elena, didn't you? What happened? Did she teach you how to behave already?"
More laughter.
My chest tightened, but I said nothing. Not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't afford another problem.
Vivienne sighed dramatically. "Fine, maybe you just need breakfast to loosen up."
She picked up her glass of juice so bright it looked like it was made from gold.
"Here. My mum brought this from Paris. Since you can't afford this kind of luxury, let me share."
Before I could move, she tipped the glass, pouring it right into my food.
The cafeteria gasped. Some girls giggled. Some looked away.
I stared at my ruined meal. My stomach knotted, but I forced a small polite smile.
"It's fine," I whispered. "You can have it yourself. I wasn't that hungry anyway."
Vivienne leaned closer. "Oh no, I insist. Didn't they teach you not to waste food?"
I tried to slip past her, but her shadows blocked me.
"If you won't eat my drink, maybe you can wear it," she said, grabbing the tray and raising it to dump it on me.
Then a hand caught her wrist.
"Enough."
The girl's voice was calm, but it hit like thunder.
Every head turned.
A girl stood beside Vivienne. Tall, graceful, uniform flawless. I hadn't seen her before. Her eyes were sharp, unreadable, but calm in a way that made everyone pause.
She took the tray from Vivienne and set it down, unbothered.
Vivienne glared. "What, you're defending her now?"
"Enough, Vivienne," the girl repeated in the same calm tone.
"Oooh, aren't you the quiet student again?" Vivienne scoffed. "The one who never talks or interferes? Don't tell me you fell for her charity face."
The cafeteria laughed.
Vivienne freed her hand and sneered. "Oooh, lest I forget, you weren't here yesterday, so you don't know. She's a lowlife from Lima, Ohio. Ask her."
The girl's voice dropped, cold and steady. "Maybe if you studied half as hard as you stir up trouble, your name wouldn't always be at the bottom of the results list."
Gasps rippled through the cafeteria.
Vivienne's face twisted. "At least I'm not the school's ghost. You're just the cold, silent freak of Solaria!"
She grabbed the tray again and swung it toward me, but the girl moved first. Quick. Controlled.
She blocked her, knocked the tray aside. It crashed to the marble floor, splattering what was left of my breakfast.
A deadly silence followed.
Vivienne stumbled back, eyes wide. "Oooh, perfect of you, Lima girl. You got the school's silent ghost to speak for you. Seems you're rewriting Solaria's history."
The girl didn't raise her voice or look angry. She just said coldly,
"Maybe focus less on other people's meals and more on your father's company that keeps losing worth every day before it collapses completely."
Gasps again. Murmurs rose.
Vivienne's jaw locked, but she said nothing. Probably too embarrassed to speak.
The girl turned, took my hand gently, and tried to pull me away. And I let her.
Her hand was warm, steady, sure. For a second, I actually felt safe and smiled.
Maybe she was one of those rare good people everyone swore didn't exist in Solaria.
An angel who accidentally got admitted here.
The only kind soul in this gold-plated jungle.
Whispers rose behind us like a tide.
Some gasped, some murmured, others just stared.
For a moment, it felt like one of those dramas where the cold CEO saves the delivery girl he secretly loves from the scheming villainess.
Never in my life did I think I'd get my own version of that.
I held onto her hand tightly and smiled as everyone murmured behind us.
We were halfway to the door when I noticed it. The shift.
The cafeteria, loud a second ago, started to fall quiet.
First the laughter died, then the whispers.
Even I felt goosebumps rise on my arms.
One by one, heads turned toward the entrance.
I frowned and thought, "Who's ruining my drama moment?"
Then I saw her.
Elena Morgan.
Standing at the doorway like she owned oxygen itself.
Light hit her just right. Long dark hair, uniform blazer perfectly buttoned except for the top, polished shoes clicking against the marble as she marched toward me. Her face unreadable, but her eyes red enough to make my stomach twist and my skin prickle.
She kept walking, slow, heels echoing with every step.
The quiet was so heavy I could hear my own heartbeat.
Her eyes found mine.
Then dropped to the hand holding mine.
Then back to me.
My chest tightened. I didn't even know why, but it felt like I'd just been caught doing something I shouldn't.
And the closer she got, the faster my heart started to race.