The Royal Garden was all roses and pretense.
Sunlight filtered through enchanted vines. Tables of white lace and crystal glasses stood beneath golden parasols. Servants in academy uniforms poured tea with military precision.
I arrived five minutes late. Not rude—just noticeable.
Reina smiled as I approached, like a hostess greeting her favorite guest.
"Elira. You came. I'm so glad."
"You invited me. It would've been rude to refuse."
"Oh, don't be so formal. We're friends."
Her eyes said otherwise.
I sat.
Around me, the other girls exchanged glances—Lilliana among them, lips already curled in amusement.
"Have you settled in well?" Reina asked sweetly. "I hope the East Wing hasn't been too… cramped."
"It's peaceful," I replied. "Elyse makes good tea."
There it was. A pause. Just half a second.
They didn't expect me to answer so plainly.
In the old life, I would've deflected or apologized.
Now, I give nothing but surface.
The conversation drifted—schoolwork, noble gossip, who was courting whom.
I listened.
Not a word slipped past me.
"By the way," Reina said, pouring more tea. "You've heard the news, haven't you?"
"Which one?"
"That your sister has been spending quite a bit of time in the royal palace lately. The Queen is very fond of her, I hear. She's even been attending events like this welcome tea."
I smiled.
There it was.
"Yes. Elena is very good at making people like her."
A few girls chuckled, unsure if it was praise or something else.
Reina tilted her head. "She may visit the academy more often now."
"Perhaps today."
"Is that so?"
"I wonder what it's like, growing up beside someone so… perfect."
That earned a laugh from the circle.
I placed my cup down, eyes steady.
"Reina, you seem awfully interested in my sister. Should I be worried you're planning to replace me twice?"
The table went quiet.
Then Reina laughed, bright and effortless.
"Oh, Elira. You've changed."
"I had to."
And then—
"Lady Elena Winterose has arrived."
The servant's voice cut through the garden like a bell.
Everyone turned.
She walked in like a sunbeam.
Soft curls pinned with pearls. A gown of soft gold silk.
Eyes like mine—but warmer. Softer. Sweeter.
Elena.
She smiled at everyone. Then looked at me.
"Sister."