⸻
Eleven years had passed.
Time had moved on—moments dissolved into memory. What once felt like a nightmare had become something else entirely. A new feeling. A new life. An entirely different world.
Elsa, who had once cursed the day she arrived here, had grown to adapt… even accept this place as home. These people were her new family.
Well—not everyone.
Most of the girls loathed her. They were envious. Jealous. Bitter. Elsa was the most beautiful, the most elegant, and the most talented dancer among them. Her grace was effortless. Her brilliance, unmatched. She was everything they struggled to become.
And so, they hated her.
⸻
The disheveled Elsa lay sprawled across her bed, hair a tangled mess, eyes barely open.
"ESLA!" Eveline's voice thundered as she flung the door wide open. "Get up, you b!tch! We have an event to prepare for!"
Elsa groaned, slowly sitting up, rubbing her eyes. "I barely slept last night. You all make me rehearse until I can't stand." Her voice was groggy, whiny.
Eveline didn't bother arguing. She marched to the bed and yanked the blanket off her. "Get up, Esla." Her tone was sharp, serious.
With a loud sigh, Elsa dragged herself out of bed.
⸻
Outside, the van was full—every girl chosen for the performance sat waiting. Restless. Irritated.
"God, I hate that b!tch so much. Who does she think she is, making us wait like this?" sneered Denee, a fiery ginger with a sharp tongue.
"Right?" another girl chimed in. "Lady Eve personally had to go wake her. Ugh! So annoying."
And then—finally—Elsa arrived.
Her outfit was different, bold. As the lead dancer, she wore gold: a two-piece ensemble that shimmered like sunlight. The top was a ruby-colored beaded crop, snug around her chest. The skirt hugged her curves and revealed her midriff. Her reddish-brown curls were styled in waves, a few strands falling over her face in soft defiance.
She looked radiant—dazzling, untouchable.
Without saying a word, she stepped into the van and took her seat, calm and poised, as if she hadn't kept them waiting at all.
⸻
The Royal Palace of Evaris
At the heart of the grand kingdom stood the legendary Palace of Evaris—vast, gold-trimmed, alive with sound. Servants moved quickly. Guards barked orders. Instruments clashed in preparation.
The president's son, Ethan, had arrived—visiting for the first time in five years. He and King Kandrid had been childhood friends, and Kandrid had spared no effort in organizing a grand celebration in his honor.
Inside the palace's vast ceremonial hall, guests were already seated when the dancers began to enter.
They stepped in silently, veils covering their faces, dressed in matching black outfits—except for the one in gold. The center. The star.
Elsa.
They took their places with perfect precision, standing still, poised like statues.
From his throne, Ethan leaned toward Kandrid. "They look wonderful, don't you think?"
Kandrid nodded, eyes narrowed. "Mhmm. Quite so."
The music began—haunting, rhythmic, seductive. The dancers moved in perfect sync, their hips swaying like waves. Their bodies glided with such fluidity it seemed they had no bones at all.
Then the music paused.
When it resumed, slower now, the girls dropped their veils to the floor.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Wow."
"What in the world?"
"Are they even human?"
Kandrid's gaze locked onto the dancer in gold. Elsa. Something about her arrested him completely.
"I see the center one's caught your eye," Ethan teased with a smirk.
Kandrid didn't deny it. A smirk of his own tugged at his lips.
When the final note rang out, the dancers froze in place, holding their dramatic poses.
Thunderous applause followed. The audience clapped and cheered. The girls bowed, smiled, and walked off gracefully.
⸻
Backstage
"You all did so well. Well done!" Eveline gushed, pride in her voice. "Alright, take your break. Get some air, eat something—whatever. But don't wander carelessly around the palace." Her tone turned stern at the end.
The girls nodded and began dispersing.
Elsa was about to step out when Eveline stopped her.
Elsa raised a brow. "What?"
"Don't cause any trouble out there," Eveline said softly, almost pleading.
Elsa smiled. "Relax, Eve. I won't do anything."
⸻
She walked through the palace halls slowly, admiring the grandeur around her. Every sculpture, every chandelier, every carved wall told a story. It was breathtaking.
Then, something caught her eye—a garden just beyond a stone archway. She stepped into it.
It was magical.
Lanterns floated gently in the air. Flowers bloomed in all colors, glowing softly in the moonlight. A fountain danced at the center.
"Wow," she breathed, smiling to herself.
But her peace was short-lived.
"What do you think you're doing here?"
The voice was sharp, commanding.
Esla turned her head slightly, one brow raised.
Kandrid stepped into view. His approach was slow, intimidating. But Esla didn't flinch.
"I asked what you're doing here," he repeated, "and who gave you permission?"
She turned fully now, folding her arms, unconcerned. She tilted her head with confident curiosity.
"And who…" she began, sizing him up, 'he looks important'—"do you think you are?"
Kandrid's expression shifted. Disbelief. Then amusement.
"I asked who you think you are," she repeated, more sharply.
Kandrid scoffed. "Are you seriously pretending not to know who I am?"
"Am I supposed to?"
His lips parted, as if to speak—but her phone rang.
She answered it casually. "Alright, I'll be out soon." Then, without looking back, she walked away.
Kandrid stood frozen in place.
He clenched his fists slowly.
"That damned dancer!" he cursed under his breath.
———