(Liana's POV)
The air at Regal Heights felt different the next morning—sharper, heavier. But Liana had grown used to the weight of whispers. If anything, she wore them like armor now.
"Everyone's still talking about your little showdown with Xavier," Bianca said, looping her arm through Liana's as they walked to class. Her voice was light, but there was something strange behind her eyes.
Liana gave a small smile. "I didn't do it to be dramatic. I just needed him to know I'm not afraid."
"Of course. And you were amazing," Bianca said, squeezing her hand. "But… maybe tone it down a bit? You know how powerful the Vipers are. It could get worse."
Liana blinked. "You think I shouldn't have said anything?"
"No! I mean—ugh, forget it. You were right." Bianca laughed, but her eyes didn't.
Later that afternoon, the Art Club met to prepare for the upcoming Talent Festival. Liana's name was already being whispered among the favorites. Her latest sketch—a haunting blend of fire and roses—had caught the attention of the art director.
As Liana worked quietly on her canvas, Bianca hovered behind her, watching.
"She's too good," someone muttered from the back of the room.
Bianca turned, lips pressed in a faint smirk. "She's naturally talented. But sometimes, pressure cracks even the best of us."
The words were soft, almost like a joke, but they landed wrong. No one questioned it.
That evening, as Liana left the studio, Bianca stayed behind—just a little longer. Long enough to "accidentally" knock over one of Liana's carefully arranged paint sets, staining her unfinished piece. She apologized the next day, of course. Over and over.
"I swear, it was an accident," Bianca said, eyes wide, hand over her heart.
Liana believed her. She had no reason not to. Yet, for the first time, a tiny shadow of doubt formed at the edge of something she thought was safe.