THE WEIGHT OF FEAR

Naya danced with effortless grace, never once stepping on the gentleman's toes and for that, he was quietly pleased. She was breath-taking, almost otherworldly; there was an air of mystery clinging to her like perfume. The onlookers could only stare in awe. Together, they looked like a match made in heaven.

 "It's wonderful dancing with you... you don't know how long I've waited for this day," Sophie's partner said, his face alight with joy. But Sophie didn't even look at him. Rage trembled through her limbs. In her mind, she pictured herself storming across the ballroom, grabbing Naya by the hair, tearing it out strand by strand, and clawing at that perfect face until it was unrecognizable.

"Excuse me, my lord. I need to visit the powder room," she said coldly.

To leave your partner mid-dance was as insulting as rejecting their hand before the first step. Lord Ren stood there, stunned and wronged. All he wanted was to dance with her—to simply share a moment of her time.

As the music faded and the dancers offered parting bows, Ren stepped away. A passing butler offered him a tray of wine; he took two glasses without a word and downed one in a single gulp.

"Brother!" Lord Elza called out, hurrying over with a glass of wine in hand. "Calm down... there are still plenty of pretty girls around."

"How about I take that one?" Ren said, pointing at the caramel-skinned girl. Elza's face darkened instantly. Seeing this, Ren downed another drink.

"Come on, brother, I was joking," Elza laughed, already tipsy. Being someone else's shadow was exhausting.

"You asked me to help you with that Sophie girl, and I did. The rest is your game now."

Sophie, who had just joined them, froze as she overheard the words. Her already fragile heart shattered. So the letter… was just a ploy? He'd only invited her to help his friend?

"Ha! If it isn't Lady Sophie herself," came a mocking voice from behind.

It was the group of girls she had once looked down on.

"There's a reason rules exist," said a tall, striking blonde, inspecting her perfectly manicured nails. "Don't mix yourself with dirt, or you'll end up dirty."

"You invited that peasant and oh dear, she snatched him right from under your nose. I hope you've learned your lesson."

Sophie's face turned pale. Her chest tightened; she felt like she might burst from shame and fury. The girls walked off, smug and satisfied.

Who was laughing now?

Meanwhile, Naya wandered through the grand mansion, soaking in its beauty. To her, raised in an orphanage, it was a treasure trove. She trailed her fingers along the textured walls—not just touching them, but reading them.

With her eyes closed, she felt everything: the sadness, the agony, and most of all... the fear.

Laughter echoed behind her like knives. Sophie couldn't breathe. Her heels clicked frantically against the polished ballroom floor as she darted past dancers, gowns, and judgmental eyes. Her chest was tight, heart pounding like a war drum. She didn't know where she was going only that she had to escape.

But the floor caught her. With a cry, she slipped, crashing down onto the marble. Her face smacked the ground, her hands scraping across the cold, unforgiving surface. The music stopped. Gasps filled the room.

Sophie didn't move.

Blood mixed with tears as she pushed herself up, trembling. Her lip was split. Her dress was torn at the hem. And every pair of eyes in the room were glued to her some in shock, others in cruel delight.

"Sophie…" Lord Ren stepped forward, eyes wide with concern, reaching for her.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, shoving his hand away. Her voice cracked, heavy with hurt.

She ran again, past the crowd, out through the ballroom doors, not stopping until she reached the fountain just outside the mansion. The water glimmered under the moonlight. It should have been beautiful, but all Sophie could feel was shame... and fear.

She sank down by the fountain, hugging herself, her sobs quiet but broken. Her fear clung to her like a second skin, invisible yet heavy. It pulsed from her body in waves.

Naya had followed though not with her feet. From within the mansion, eyes closed and hand pressed to the wall, Naya felt it

. The overwhelming fear, It was intoxicating. So raw, so bitter. So delicious. A hunger stirred inside her.

Like smoke through cracks, Naya's presence slithered to Sophie, slipping into her mind, her veins, her trembling bones. Sophie blinked, confused, her vision blurring not from tears, but from something deeper. She heard a whisper. Soft, Seductive, Inside her head.

"You're so tired, aren't you? Let me carry it for you..."Sophie's body slumped forward, her breathing slowed and just like that, the fear was gone. Replaced by silence.

Naya smiled faintly inside the mansion, her eyes opening glowing faintly for a second as if she'd just swallowed a piece of someone's soul.

Naya's breath hitched.

Suddenly, her vision shifted. The mansion blurred around her, replaced by flickering images Sophie's fear, raw and unfiltered.

She saw…

A little girl sitting alone at a birthday party, her dress perfect, her smile forced. Everyone surrounded another girl instead. A teenage Sophie, staring into a mirror, applying makeup with shaking hands. "You'll never be enough," a mother's voice echoed behind her.

Sophie, reading a love letter with wide eyes only to hear laughter moments later as she realized it was a cruel joke. Her wedding day ruined, the man she thought loved her dancing with someone else, whispering sweet lies to another.

And then tonight Naya saw it through her eyes. The mocking girls, the stumble, the blood. Lord Ren's hand reaching out not out of love, but pity.

The images faded, Naya opened her eyes. Her breathing was shallow, her heart racing. Such fear... so deep it was almost sacred.

A smile crept to her lips.