CHAPTER 10 — Navira's POV
"Dinner, Drama, and Subtle Dominance."
Dinner should be simple. Food, conversation, polite laughter.
Instead, it's a battlefield.
I descend the stairs first, deliberately calm, letting the echo of my footsteps do some of the work.
Agnes sits stiffly at the table, napkin in hand, face pale as if she just realized she might actually be losing this war.
Vivienne fusses over her, dabbing at the tiny scratches she tried to make dramatic on her forehead.
Victor mutters under his breath, still in disbelief.
Alden sits beside me, quietly smirking, trying not to laugh.
Alastair sits on the opposite side of the table, jaw tight, scanning the room like he's calculating probabilities of chaos per minute.
Agnes glares at me across the table, all sour princess energy.
She opens her mouth to speak but stops — probably realizing anything she says can be used against her.
Good.
Vivienne hovers nervously. "Navira, are you hungry?"
I smile innocently. "Yes, Mom."
The way I say it, soft and sweet, the word 'Mom' practically glows.
I catch Agnes flinch. Jackpot.
"Of course you are," Vivienne says, setting a plate in front of me.
I nod politely.
"Thank you, Mom."
Victor grunts. "Sit. Eat."
He still hasn't processed what just happened.
Agnes tries again, this time in a whisper.
"You think you're clever, don't you?"
I tilt my head. Innocent. "I don't think, Agnes. I am."
Her jaw clicks audibly.
Alden snickers quietly.
Vivienne's hand trembles on the silverware.
Alastair's expression darkens; he's suspicious, I can tell.
The meal begins in tense silence.
I take small, deliberate bites, letting my hands rest on the table like I belong here — because I do.
Agnes pokes at her food.
I pretend not to notice, though I can feel her hate radiating. Delicious.
Halfway through, Vivienne whispers, "Navira, darling, would you like some dessert after? I think you earned it."
I beam, soft and sweet, like an angel.
"Yes, Mom. Thank you."
Agnes huffs loudly.
Her cronies follow her lead, sniffing and shifting uneasily in their chairs.
I smile slightly, letting the tiny gestures sink in. Every twitch counts. Every look a pawn on the board.
After dinner, Alden steps outside for a moment.
I follow, knowing he wants to talk privately.
Once we're alone, he leans casually against the railing.
"You're insane," he says, voice low.
I smirk. "Insanely prepared."
"No, like… you handled Agnes today. And the family. And the recording. I… I didn't think anyone could—"
"Break the illusion of the perfect princess?" I finish for him. "Relax. I didn't. I just… set the stage."
He laughs softly. "You're… something else, Navira. Just… don't push too far. Even for you."
I shrug. Innocent. "Why? It's not like anyone actually listens. They just… watch."
He shakes his head, smiling faintly. "Good point."
Meanwhile, inside, Vivienne is lingering near the table, eyeing me in a way that is… almost approving.
A subtle nod here, a careful smile there.
She's warming up. I notice. I like.
Alastair, however… he's suspicious.
Every glance, every small movement I make, he notes.
He's trying to figure out my strategy. But he doesn't know:
I already know his strategy.
He's playing against the final boss.
Agnes, meanwhile, sits in quiet misery.
Restricted from dramatic gestures, her fake tears mostly gone, realizing no one — not Mom, not Dad, not even her brothers — will defend her like before.
I lean back in my chair, soft smile, hands folded.
They see an innocent girl.
They do not see the mind racing, the plans forming, the chessboard on which every family member is a piece.
Vivienne, hesitant, says, "Navira… would you like me to show you your room? Maybe some dessert there?"
"Yes, Mom," I reply softly, the words like silk and steel.
I can see Agnes grit her teeth.
Alden smirks quietly.
Alastair scowls.
The night is mine.
Every subtle glance, every small gesture, every quiet movement — all pieces on the board.
And Agnes?
She's already thinking of the next move.
But I've already anticipated it.
Because that's how this game works.
I smile softly to myself.
"Power," I whisper under my breath.
"Success. Money. Fame. The whole damn board."
And just like that, dinner ends.
I have won the first real battle of the night.
Tomorrow… school, politics, and the rest of this family's illusions await.
But one thing is certain: I am untouchable.