For the next three years, she smiled.
She curtsied. She complimented.
She obeyed.
Victoria became what she never thought she would, a lackey.
The shadow Selene Ravencroft's, the precious daughter of Duke Magnus Ravencroft and the future fiancée of Crown Prince Aldric Vancaster. The girl who had everything, beauty, power, status, love.
And Victoria?
She was the girl who stood behind her, fixing her dress hems and pretending to laugh at every joke.
She brushed Selene's hair. Helped her try on dresses. Played with her when summoned. Applauded her when praised.
It was disgusting.
She hated every second of it.
All her life, she'd believed she was meant to be adored. Meant to be served.
Not to be the servant.
But she endured it, hiding her sneers behind tight smiles and false affection. She curtsied deeper than the others, clung to Selene's arm more desperately than anyone else.
Because despite everything… she got things out of it.
Selene gave her gifts.
Clothes. Toys. Makeup. Jewelry. Perfumes imported from the Empire. Delicate shoes. Dolls hand-stitched by noble artisans. All things Victoria's family couldn't afford.
More importantly, her father, despite failing miserably in all his other business attempts, finally secured a partnership with Duke Magnus.
It elevated their status and opened many doors for her family.
But it still wasn't enough. Never enough.
Victoria didn't want hand-me-down affection or borrowed influence.
She didn't want to cling to Selene.
She wanted to be her.
She wanted to have her life. Her blood. Her parents. Her fiancé. Her world.
And so the hatred festered.
Every smile she gave Selene added another crack to the dam holding it back.
To make matters worse, her fake devotion made her even more despised by Adeline, Lysandra, Marcia, Ophelia, Junie, and half the other noble brats who attended their social gatherings.
They called her a snake, lapdog and a leech.
Victoria ignored them but their words hurt.
Still, she endured. Because being close to Selene meant access.
But whenever she visited the Ravencroft mansion, whether for a playdate or a sleepover, her envy took over.
If Selene owned something beautiful, Victoria either stole it or destroyed it.
Dresses that shimmered like starlight? She'd "accidentally" spill ink on them.
A porcelain ballerina that danced when wound up? She snapped off the legs when no one was looking.
If she couldn't have it, no one could.
And Selene? The sweet idiot never noticed. Or she forgave her, chalking up Victoria's behavior to clumsiness or childish mischief.
But there was one incident Victoria remembered with special humiliation.
The day she made a complete fool of herself.
She'd overheard a maid whispering about Duchess Evangeline Ravencroft—how she'd once been a commoner who caught the Duke's eye.
A mere farmer's daughter to a priestess and now a duchess.
That story stuck with Victoria.
It gave her hope.
If she could marry Damian, the only son of Duke Magnus then she too could rise above it all.
Become a duchess and live life in splendor.
She clung to the idea obsessively.
One day, when Selene hosted a spring garden party, Victoria cornered Damian near the greenhouse. She wore her best dress. Put on her sweetest smile and confessed.
She told him she'd dreamed of him. That she'd make a fine wife. That their families were close now.
But he looked her dead in the eye and said flatly:
"I already have a fiancée. And even if I didn't, I wouldn't like someone like you."
His words hit harder than the slap Adeline had given her.
And in a fit of rage and embarrassment, Victoria snapped.
She did something so vile, so disgraceful—she didn't even want to remember it clearly. She only remembered shouting, and throwing something, and Selene crying as glass shattered against the marble.
That was the final straw.
Duke Magnus banned her from setting foot in their estate again.
Her father had been furious.
He'd screamed at her for hours. Saying that she almost ruined everything. Threatened to send her away to a convent if she didn't behave.
Since then, she hadn't been back inside the Ravencroft mansion.
But she longed for it.
Every time she saw Selene at a gathering, laughing like nothing had happened, her heart twisted.
She wanted back in.
She wanted to be inside those grand walls again. To eat from golden plates. To touch silk sheets. To walk beside Selene… if only so she could one day replace her.
That desire, that sickness, had never left.
It only grew.
Like a seed watered with envy.
But now…
Now everything had changed.
Selene, perfect, sweet Selene, had woken up as a Dark Priestess.
A cursed child.
The moment Victoria heard the news, she danced with glee.
Did not even attempt to hide it.
Because she knew what happened to cursed children.
She'd seen it. Heard the stories. Smiled secretly behind closed doors when lesser nobles talked of them being left out in the woods… beaten… hunted down like animals.
They were less than human.
Others were murdered by their own families.
And if that was not enough, Victoria had seen firsthand how her parents had reacted towards her sister, Miranda after she awoke as a Puppeteer.
They could barely look at her.
So surely, surely, the Duke and Duchess would reject Selene in the same way.
The very thought sent Victoria's heart racing.
She could already picture it.
Selene, poor pathetic Selene, thin and pale from hunger, in tattered hand-me-downs, her hair wild and matted. Dirt smudges on her skin. Sunken eyes. Barely a whisper of a voice.
Helpless. Alone. Pathetic.
Just the way Victoria liked her.
A wicked smile spread across her lips as she held tight to the image in her mind.
This was it. Her moment.
Now she could be the one looking down.
Now it would be Selene's turn to fawn over her, crawl at her feet, cater to her whims like some flea-bitten hound.
Victoria's shoulders shook with the silent laughter surging in her breast.
She could taunt Selene to her face.
Tease her magic. Break her things. Take from under her nose and watch her squirm in silence, her mouth gagged and unable to reply.
At last—at last—she would win.
And if she played her cards correctly… perhaps… just perhaps… she would become Duke Magnus's goddaughter.
Yes.
All she had to do was act pitiful, the loyal servant who never left Selene's side, and then ease into the part of the surrogate daughter the Ravencrofts so clearly needed now.
She'd inherit Selene's bedroom, her dresses, her jewels, her status.
Her life.
And then, oh then, she would catch Selene's eye and smile, just to have the heartbreak gaze back at her.
Victoria practically skipped down the hallway.
This was going to be delicious.
She flung open the door with an evil grin spreading across her face, ready to fling out a snide hello like—
"Well, well, how the mighty have fallen—"
But then she froze.
The words caught in her throat.
Her grin died.
For in front of her… wasn't the dirty, broken, sobbing Selene she'd expected.
No.
In fact it was the exact opposite.
Her blue hair, which was so long, was cleaner and shinier than it had ever been.
Her red eyes were quiet, cold even and more piercing than Victoria had ever witnessed.
She was wearing a very nice dress, cute shoes and was dressed up in fancy accessories. She even seemed to have put on a little weight in the few months which made her cuter.
She looked like a princess.
Serene, dainty, delicate.
The room around her was still. She looked at Selene and Selene gazed back at her.
Her eyes sliced through Victoria like a shadowlight sword.
To herself, Victoria wondered, What was going on?