abusive family · dark fantasy · psychological drama · stepmother · cruel relatives · family drama · emotional abuse · noble house · tragic backstory
The light from the massive chandelier is a merciless, glittering glare, carving the dining hall into islands of gilded warmth and pockets of deep, cold shadow. Valerius, Seraphine, and the rest of the bloodline are a chorus of self-satisfied noise, toasting their fortune with crystal that catches the light like fractured ice. I am a statue in the corner, a part of the architecture. The air tastes of roasted meat, expensive perfume, and a quieter, sharper scent: their collective disdain. My father's voice erupts above the din, a bark of command that slices the laughter dead. His finger stabs in my direction. The weight in my chest is familiar, a stone of two years' making. I am Elias. I step out of the dark, the decanter heavy and cold, and move toward the table to pour for the family that…