The day had started quietly enough. Lyja had spent the morning running errands with Davina and the afternoon flipping through one of her sister's grimoires, hoping to find something useful for the strange disturbances they'd been sensing around the Quarter. For once, things seemed calm—at least until her phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Klaus:

Lyja, there's a party in the Quarter tomorrow evening—a gathering of some of the city's more… influential residents. I'd like you to accompany me as my plus one. I'll pick you up at eight.

Lyja stared at the message, her heart skipping a beat. Klaus Mikaelson wanted her to be his plus one at a party? She wasn't sure if she should be flattered or alarmed. Knowing Klaus, it wasn't just a casual invite. There had to be an angle, a reason he wanted her there.

Before she could overthink it, her phone buzzed again. Another message, but this time from Marcel.

Marcel:

Hey, Lyja. There's a big party in the Quarter tomorrow night. Thought it might be fun to show you off to some of the less dangerous residents. What do you say? Pick you up at eight?

Lyja groaned, tossing her phone onto the couch and rubbing her temples. Of course. Of course, they'd both invite her to the same event. And of course, they'd both assume she'd say yes.

Davina walked into the room, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. She raised an eyebrow at her sister's obvious frustration. "What's with the face?"

Lyja picked up her phone, holding it out for Davina to read the messages. "This. This is my life now."

Davina scanned the texts, her lips twitching with amusement. "Wow. Two invitations to the same party from the two most powerful men in the Quarter. You're really making waves."

"This isn't funny," Lyja said, flopping back onto the couch. "What am I supposed to do? If I say yes to one, I'll piss off the other."

"Not necessarily," Davina said, sitting down beside her. "You could just… go on your own. Who says you need to pick a side?"

Lyja gave her sister a flat look. "Have you met Klaus and Marcel? That's not how they work."

Davina shrugged. "True. But you don't owe them anything, Lyja. Go with whoever you want—or don't go at all. It's your choice."

Lyja sighed, her mind racing. She didn't want to disappoint either of them, but Davina was right. This wasn't about Klaus or Marcel—it was about her. And if she was going to survive in this city, she needed to set boundaries.

The next day, as the evening approached, Lyja stared at her reflection in the mirror, her nerves buzzing. She had decided to go to the party but on her own terms. A simple but elegant black dress hugged her figure, and her hair was pulled into a loose braid that framed her face. She looked confident—at least on the outside.

At exactly eight o'clock, her phone buzzed again. Two texts, one after the other.

Klaus:

I'm outside.

Marcel:

Ready when you are. Let me know when to swing by.

Lyja took a deep breath, grabbing her purse before heading to the door. She stepped outside to see Klaus leaning against his sleek black car, his sharp suit and ever-present smirk making him look every bit the commanding figure he was.

"Lyja," he said, his tone warm. "You look stunning."

Before she could respond, Marcel appeared from around the corner, his leather jacket swapped for a crisp blazer that somehow managed to look both polished and casual. His smile widened when he saw her.

"Wow," Marcel said, his voice teasing but genuine. "You clean up nice."

Lyja blinked, glancing between the two of them. "You're both here?"

"Of course," Klaus said smoothly, his gaze flicking to Marcel. "I wasn't going to leave this to chance."

"Neither was I," Marcel added, stepping closer. "I figured you might need a proper escort."

The tension between them was palpable, the unspoken rivalry crackling in the air. Lyja crossed her arms, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Okay, enough. I'm not some trophy to be fought over."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering. "That wasn't my intention."

"Mine either," Marcel said, his expression softening. "I just wanted to make sure you had a good time."

Lyja sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, I appreciate the invites. Really. But I've decided to go on my own. So, thank you, but I'll see you both at the party."

Before either of them could protest, she turned on her heel and started walking toward the Quarter. Her heart was pounding, but a small smile tugged at her lips. For the first time, she felt like she was taking control—of her life, of her choices, and of whatever complicated mess she was stepping into with Klaus and Marcel.

As she made her way toward the glowing lights of the party, she couldn't help but wonder what the night would bring. Klaus and Marcel would both be there, of course, but this time, she wasn't letting either of them dictate her evening.

This was her city too now, and she was determined to make her own place in it—on her terms.