Elara’s POV

The piano room was cold, but sweat clung to my palms. My fingers hovered over the keys, shaking. Mikhail’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade.

“Again.”

I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood. My wrists ached, my back screamed. I had been playing for hours, stumbling, failing, falling short. Every mistake earned another sharp order. Every wrong note felt like proof that maybe I didn’t belong here at all.

“Do you even listen to yourself?” he snapped, pacing behind me. His shadow loomed over the keys. “Sloppy. Weak. Try again.”

“I’ve been trying,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

“Then try harder.”

My vision blurred. I blinked fast, refusing to let the tears fall. I hated him. I hated how his words burned, how he pushed me until I wanted to break. And yet, deep inside, I knew he was making me stronger. He was forcing me past the walls I had built around myself.

I lifted my hands again, the sound of the keys filling the air. This time, my body moved on instinct, not fear. I let go. I let the anger fuel me. The music poured out like fire. Harsh, raw, alive.

The last note hung in the air. Silence followed.

When I turned, Mikhail wasn’t sneering. His eyes softened, just for a second. I saw something behind the ice — pain, regret, maybe even pride. His hand twitched like he wanted to touch me, but he pulled back, jaw tight.

“Better,” he muttered, turning away. “Don’t make me regret wasting my time.”

The door slammed. I sat frozen at the piano, my heart hammering. For that one moment, I’d seen the real Mikhail. And it terrified me more than his cruelty.

By the next morning, the academy was buzzing again. Gossip Girl had struck.

“Sleeping your way into the competition? Elara Winters plays more than just piano.”

Laughter followed me through every hall. Eyes lingered, mouths whispered. My name was on everyone’s lips, twisted and poisoned.

Pearl was the first to find me. She slid her arm through mine, her smile too wide.

“You know how people are,” she said lightly. “Don’t take it so seriously.”

But her eyes glittered, and I realized she was enjoying it.

I pulled away. My chest burned hotter than the laughter. She didn’t believe me. Maybe she never had.

By lunch, the whispers turned into shoves. My tray was knocked from my hands, food splattering across the floor. “Oops,” one girl laughed, walking away. My throat closed. I wanted to scream, to cry, to run.

I almost gave up that day. Almost packed my bags, ready to leave Winterfell behind. But Noah found me first.

“Elara.” His hand closed around mine, warm, steady. “Don’t quit. You’ve come too far.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” I choked out. “Everyone thinks—”

“Let them think.” His voice was sharp, but not cruel. His thumb lingered against my skin, sending shivers up my arm. His eyes burned with something too personal, too close.

“You can win this,” he whispered. “We’ll make sure of it.”

We. Not you. Not I. We.

It made my chest ache.

Later that evening, Damien stormed into the board meeting, standing beside Noah. For once, they fought together. Their voices filled the room, demanding proof, tearing apart the accusations.

“She has done nothing wrong,” Noah said firmly. “This is nothing but slander.”

Damien’s voice was colder. “If this academy throws away talent because of gossip, then maybe Winterfell doesn’t deserve to win at all.”

The board fell silent. For the first time, I wasn’t the one standing alone.

But when the meeting ended, I caught the way Noah and Damien looked at each other. Not like enemies. Not like rivals. Something else. Something secret.

When I tried to thank them, Noah only smiled, brushing my hand again like it was nothing. Damien, on the other hand, leaned close, his voice low.

“Don’t make me clean up after your mess again.”

I froze. His words felt less like protection and more like a warning.

That night in literature class, Lucien’s voice cut through my thoughts. Calm, sharp, dangerous.

“The truth is rarely kind, Elara. Be careful who you trust.”

The words silenced the room. Everyone turned toward me. My cheeks burned, my throat tight.

“What are you talking about?” I forced out.

But Lucien only smiled faintly, his eyes unreadable. “You’ll see.”

When class ended, he brushed past me in the hallway, his breath warm against my ear.

“Secrets spread faster than lies,” he murmured. Then he was gone, leaving me cold.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay staring at the ceiling, my chest heavy. The academy felt like a cage, every corner whispering lies and secrets. I was the bird trapped inside, wings breaking.

The ping of another Gossip Girl post lit up my phone.

I didn’t open it.

But I knew it was about me. It was always about me.

The next morning, the whispers were louder than ever. Phones flashed. People laughed openly now, no longer bothering to hide it.

When I finally opened my phone, my stomach dropped.

“BREAKING: Elara Winters caught sneaking into Professor Lucien’s quarters last night. Evidence coming soon.”

I felt the world tilt. My hands shook so badly I almost dropped the phone. I hadn’t even been near Lucien’s quarters. But the way everyone stared… the way they smiled like they already believed it…

At the end of the hallway, Lucien appeared. His dark eyes met mine, unreadable. For one terrible second, I thought he’d speak up, deny it, defend me.

Instead, he turned and walked away.

My chest hollowed. My knees almost buckled.

Behind me, someone whispered loud enough for the entire hall to hear.

“She’s going to be expelled.”