The dead leaves crunched under my feet as I huddled into my coat, wondering who was the madman that decided to situate the Academy of Vienne so high in the mountains. The cold wind struck through layers of woolen fabric, chilling my skin, and I buried my face into my muffler as I hurried into the library.

Once inside, the chill abated, though only slightly. In the hearth, a meager fire battled for its life, sending shadows dancing across ancient bookshelves. Moonlight pooled on the floor and tables, providing dim illumination to read by.

As expected, the library was empty. Most students were asleep by now. I thought back on this time last year, when I had a good reputation with teachers and classmates alike. This time last year, I'd be in the dorms, drinking mugs of frothy hot chocolate with my friends.

No longer. The day Celine Falaise enrolled at the Academy of Vienne, my days of wine and roses came to an end.

The family Falaise was unknown till recently, having attained fortune and influence with uncanny speed. There were rumors of bribery and corruption, and some superstitious souls whispered that they made a pact with demonic forces. When the students of the Academy heard that Celine Falaise applied, everyone expected her rejection. After all, the Academy of Vienne accepted only students from the most elite of families.

Yet, the king secured Celine's acceptance—a privilege no one in the history of the Academy possessed.

Soon after she arrived, my old life began to crumble. People I once counted as close friends avoided me. Teachers I once saw as confidants distanced themselves. Though Celine never spoke to me, I knew that the timing of these with her arrival was no coincidence. My presence began to draw overt hostility. I was soon ostracized by the entire school.

And so, here I was: alone in the library, stealing fragments of time to study while the others were asleep. I hunkered down at a table and began unpacking my books and parchment.

"Sarre," said a voice. A girl: one of Celine's entourage. She was not alone. Other students stood around me with malicious smiles. By a bookshelf was Celine, her blue eyes distant as she gazed out the windows at the snowy peaks. White ribbons twined through her dark hair, and she wore a simple navy cape clasped with a gold chain. Her delicate hand rested on the pommel of her rapier. She looked removed from the situation, as though she had nothing to do with her lackeys.

"Lady Falaise wishes to speak to you," said the girl.

Though I considered refusing, I knew I had no real choice in the matter. My limbs leaden, I got up. As I approached, Celine drew her gaze away from the window. Her blue eyes were murky, reminiscent of dark waters. They betrayed nothing, said nothing. Her lips curled into what was almost a smile. She looked, I thought, as though there was something wrong with her soul. At that moment, I found myself believing the rumors that the Falaise consorted with demons.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," Celine murmured. "I am Celine Falaise. And you are?"

I gritted my teeth. There was no way Celine did not know who I was, considering all that occurred over the past year. Still, courtesy demanded I respond, so I said stiffly, "I am ${name} de Sarre."

"The House of Sarre," said Celine, her voice lingering on the name. "A noble house, with a long history. As its eldest ${son}, you must be proud of your heritage." Celine's voice was quiet and measured, as though she was reading from a book. "But I hear that misfortune found your family. So many mysterious accidents and unexplained disappearances. It must be difficult to live in such times."

It was true: recently, unaccountable incidents plagued the House of Sarre. Our retainers vanished without a trace. Members of our cadet branches died under inexplicable circumstances. Even our messengers disappeared en-route; I had not received letters from my family in a while. Though we tried to keep these incidences secret, it seemed word made its way out. I strove to master my expression. The last thing I wanted was for Celine to sense my unease.

"Cycles of fortune and misfortune happen to any family," I replied. "I have faith that the watchwords of the House of Sarre will carry us through these difficulties."

"The watchwords?" Celine arched an eyebrow. A tick, then she chuckled, cold and sharp. "Oh, of course. Your family virtues. Courage. Integrity. Sacrifice. Very pretty. I wonder what generation of Sarres thought those up, considering how ignoble your family's origins were."

It took a moment for Celine's insult to sink in. When it did I bristled, hands tightening into fists. "What? The House of Sarre became so because of our service to King Charles. There is nothing ignoble in that—"

"Oh," said Celine, widening her eyes in exaggerated surprise. "You don't know. How sad. Perhaps the world has forgotten, but the truth remains. The House of Sarre descends from a peasant who made a deal with forces beyond human reckoning. I suppose most would call them demons."

What Celine said was so ridiculous that it took me a moment to comprehend it. The House of Sarre? Descended from a demonic pact? Preposterous. First of all, with recent discoveries in science, believing in demons was increasingly seen as mere superstition. Even beyond that, the ancient deeds of the House of Sarre were recorded in history, sung in songs, written in poetry. I looked at the other students, hoping that they realized how absurd Celine's words were, but they merely stood there, smirking. Their condescending smiles shot straight to my gut, fueling my anger. Celine followed my gaze before glancing back at me, and her gaze was so insolent, so arrogant, so dismissive that it set off every nerve in my body. My heart pounded; my breath came short; my skin prickled with rage. Before I knew it, I was rushing towards her.

Before I got anywhere near, her lackeys tackled and restrained me. Celine watched with amusement.

"Poor ${name}," she drawled. "How unseemly. I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything better, given your lineage."

"You're insane," I said, gritting my teeth. "I'll tell the headmaster about this slander, and I'll see you expelled."

Celine knelt before me. The hem of her skirt slipped up a fraction, and even through my anger I hated myself for noticing the pale strip of flesh it revealed: the creamy skin of her thigh. Her eyes were unreadable as they stared into mine. "Unfortunately for you," she said softly, "society changed while you were practicing at being a recluse. Your name does not hold the weight it once did. The House of Sarre has already fallen."

Her words struck with a terrible force. She spoke them so bluntly, they rang with the weight of truth. As the knowledge seeped into my brain, I stared at her, eyes wide. When I spoke, my voice was hardly above a whisper. "What? How?"

Celine reached out, her fingertips cool against my cheek. She leaned in, lips brushing my ear. Her breath was warm, and smelled of flowers. "My family made a similar deal. The fate of the Falaises is tied to the inverse of the Sarres. You see, ${name}, we are bound together. To secure my future, I need to destroy yours."

The sound of her voice, cool and resolute, sent shivers down my spine. Her fingers trailed over my skin, tracing the line of my jaw, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. I wanted to turn away from her touch, but my body refused to obey. As rage, confusion, lust, and humiliation battled for control of my mind, I could not look away from the depravity within her eyes. Something deep within me responded to the hidden promise in her gaze. A slow current of desire pulsed through me, and I clenched my hands in a futile effort to fight it.

A slow smile crept up her face. "Oh," she said, her voice almost a purr. "I see. You enjoy this