Aria stood in front of the interface, her Slate still aglow with AvaNET's lounge schematics. She wasn't just looking — she was studying. Mapping entry paths, calculating line-of-sight, and tracking observer angles like a general staging a maneuver.
"Lyric," she said smoothly. "When is the Prestige Lounge at its peak observer density?"
"Today's projection: 16:45," Lyric replied. "Thirty-four active Archons. Eight Sovereigns. Sixteen Luminaries. Visibility index: 9.8."
Aria exhaled slowly through her nose. "Perfect."
She brought up the Slate again, this time navigating deep into the StyleForge Core Vault — not Freestyle Mode, but the premium-tier archive almost no one took the time to explore.
She flicked through pages of archival looks with sharp efficiency.
Tops from old Solara showcases. Gloves from a Chanel lunar gala series. A sculptural belt from a discontinued legacy capsule tagged "never submitted."
"StyleForge has thousands of unclaimed pieces no one bothers to touch," she murmured. "Everyone's obsessed with unlocking Freestyle, but half of them couldn't curate their way out of a resale rack."
Aurora leaned over her shoulder. "You're buying these?"
"Curating," Aria corrected. "Three premium pieces. One Solara-structured top. A hemline variant from a forgotten capsule. And a legacy-coded belt that never trended."
She paused, then flicked one final piece into place — a silk overlay that brought all three together like they were born that way.
Across from her, Aurora studied the silhouette — then began selecting her own.
She didn't copy. She counterbalanced.
Where Aria chose sharp geometry, Aurora chose softened asymmetry.
Where Aria's palette absorbed the room, Aurora's scattered it in light.
They mirrored — not in shape, but in purpose.
Two polar aesthetics.
Two sides of the same presence.
"It'll feel like Freestyle," Aria said softly. "But it won't be. Just enough to confuse the system."
Aurora's lips curved faintly.
"High fashion by illusion. That's very... us."
They said nothing else.
At 16:30, they dressed.
Aria's ensemble:
A sculpted midnight silk crop-layer with split-shoulder accents, paired with an angular gunmetal skirt and a legacy belt traced in low-frequency shimmer. The palette was deep and deliberate — absorbing the light like a secret. Power dressed in restraint.
Her makeup was minimal but sharp: matte porcelain skin, a faint silver cut across the upper lid, and a deep neutral stain pressed into the lips like a whispered warning.
On her feet — carbon-black stilettos with a slight architectural flare at the heel. Silent weapons.
Aurora's ensemble:
An opal-threaded halter overlay layered over pearl-shimmer chiffon, styled with an asymmetrical white skirt and a translucent capelet that moved like vapor. She wore light like memory — soft, impossible to hold, and impossible to miss.
Her makeup was weightless: soft-glow skin, an inner-eye highlight barely visible unless you looked for it, and a glossed lip in faint rose quartz. The kind of beauty that didn't ask — it suggested.
YOU ARE READING
Valmont Series - Inheritance Code
Teen FictionWhat if your perfect life was just a rehearsal? On their twelfth birthday, Aria and Aiden Lancaster wake expecting luxury, freedom, and the future they were promised. Instead, they're given an ultimatum: Leave everything behind - their friends, thei...
