Seraphina Hesperia De Gaspariz.
That was the name they used to whisper with disdain, the villainess in Vivienne and Atticus's story.
The woman painted as cruel, arrogant, and heartless.
But behind that name, there was me. A girl who was never given the chance to simply be loved.
My father, Nolan who never really cared about me, just stands there and watches me struggle. He sees me fight through everything alone, yet he never reaches out.
Not once did he try to ease the pain I carried. Not once did he look at me as someone worth holding onto. I was his daughter only in name, never in his heart. And somehow, that truth hurts more than anything he ever said.
And my mother was someone I never even got the chance to see, not even once. Do I hate her? No. I never could. I just wanted her by my side, even for a moment.
They say she was once a successful noble, until her parents threw her out and ruined her life the moment they learned she was pregnant with me.
In the end, she left me at birth and left me to my father who never onced cared.
There were days when I'd cry quietly in my room, clutching my swollen palms, whispering to myself that one day I'd be enough.
My stepmother was worse. She smiled in front of others, all sweetness and silk, but when the doors closed, her hands were sharp and her words sharper.
She called me cursed, unloved, unwanted and I believed her.
No one ever knew the bruises beneath my sleeves or the quiet sobs muffled by pillows at night.
And then my sister, Ophelia Novaria De Gaspariz. Beautiful, radiant and shimmers.
She hated me, I could see it in her eyes, in the way her smile vanished whenever I entered the room.
Yet still.. I loved her. Because no matter how much pain she caused, she was still my sister. And love, even when broken, doesn't fade easily.
The man I loved, my fiancé, Atticus, the crown prince of Eldryn. Once, he looked at me as if I was his entire world.
He would smile faintly whenever our eyes met, his voice soft whenever he called my name.
But love doesn't always survive silence.
He drifted away, slowly, painfully, until one day, his gaze turned cold. And I had no one to blame but myself.
I wasn't ready to open my heart, how could I, when all my life I was taught that love meant pain?
The trauma of my childhood clung to me like a shadow.
My inner child that frightened little girl still hiding in the corner of a cold room, never stopped crying.
And no matter how much I tried to be strong, she haunted every decision I made.
Vivienne, my beloved friend, my companion and Atticus's beloved. She was everything I wasn't - Gentle, adored, angelic, a light that drew everyone near.
While I.. Was the villainess in her story.
People looked at me and saw cruelty, arrogance, jealousy.
They saw only what they wanted to see.
Was it because she shines brighter than anyone else's? Because she was the angel, and I was the devil who stood beside her?
In the end, my story ended as all villainess tales do, I killed Vivienne out of jealousy?
I was executed by the very hand of my beloved brother. Accused of betraying my kingdom, of selling Eldryn's secrets and poisoning Lady Vivienne.
I killed her because jealousy took over me. Everyone looked at her, never at me. Even the one I loved gave their heart to her without hesitation.
One by one, the people I cared about were pulled into her light. I felt small, unseen, and forgotten. And in that moment, jealousy became the only thing I listened to.
And the world was cruel to me. Even my brother whom I velieved that was my protector and my light, turned his back when I needed him most.
In that final moment, as the blade hovered above me, I wondered…
"Was I truly the villain they made me to be?
Or just a broken girl who no one ever tried to understand?"
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