Monica Croft
Daughter of Duchess Christine Croft.
Our House does hold imnse power in the capital as one of the chief supplier of militants and weapons.
My father died after few years of my birth during an expedition with his subordinates.
I was unable to accept the fact at that ti, maybe because of my age or sothing.
But, eventually, I ca to accept it.
For that, my mother had a major part to play, due to her strict upbringing of and my elder brother, Dustin Croft, currently the Vice President of the Student Council.
My mother was a great administrator, as she continued our House’ legacy without my father.
Despite there being plenty of oppositions to her being the Duchess of House Croft, she ca out victorious in each and every negotiation, for which I respect her.
She is my role model, and after entering the academy, all I wanted was to beco like her.
Strong, Powerful, and Unwavering.
I tried my hardest to achieve that goal.
Grueling training hours, accompanying her to major etings, and most importantly discarding my emotional attachnts.
I did all I could do to achieve her level of capabilities.
Everything was going smoothly, until I joined this academy.
My brother was already an established senior here, so I had high hopes and expectations to prove my worth and further my knowledge.
And it was going well too
However, one particular incident took everything away from .
My brother died.
My esteed mother died.
My House fell apart with the Branch Families fighting for its control.
In one clean sweep, it was all over.
All of this happened due to one single person.
Dorian Valen.
The na once burned like poison in my veins.
He was the one who took everything from .
My brother... dead.
My mother... gone.
House Croft, shattered—its foundations ripped apart by internal strife and opportunists. It all began the mont Dorian Valen stepped into our lives.
When he was finally executed, I felt sothing I hadn’t in a long ti.
Relief.
Not joy. Not vengeance.
Just... silence.
I didn’t even get to kill him myself. But it was enough, or so I thought.
And then, without warning—
I woke up again.
Sa place. Sa ti.
Back to the mont I first joined the academy.
At first, I dismissed it as so vivid illusion—a nightmare, maybe, from the stress.
But then I saw her.
My mother, alive.
And Dustin, my brother, still teasing like he always had. Everything was perfect again. Too perfect.
I kept my thoughts to myself, observed every detail. When the realization hit fully, I was overwheld.
I had gone back in ti.
But why? How?
I didn’t think it had anything to do with Dorian’s death. Ti travel? Regression? These were fairy tales.
Still, I knew one thing for certain: I had been given a second chance.
So I didn’t waste it.
I hunted him.
Stalked him.
Watched his movents, waiting for the mont he would begin to twist fate again. And before he could... I killed him.
But then—
It happened again.
I woke up, once more, at the sa point in ti.
Again I killed him.
And again I returned.
It kept happening—no matter how many tis I ended his life.
That was when suspicion began to grow like rot in my mind.
Was Dorian’s death the reason this loop kept resetting?
It seed absurd, but I couldn’t deny the pattern.
Still, I didn’t want to believe it.
Not until that day outside the city gates.
I had lured him there under false pretenses, ready to kill him again—but not before asking him sothing that had been eating away at .
I was ready to confront him—really confront him.
To look him in the eyes and ask:
"Do you even rember any of it?"
But before I could, he laughed.
A quiet, knowing kind of laugh.
And then he asked sothing I wasn’t prepared for.
"Is this the first ti we’re having this conversation?"
I froze.
That mont shattered sothing inside .
But the man in front of didn’t feel like the monster who ruined my life. His eyes were tired. His voice calm. He looked... hollow. Like soone who had seen too many loops, too many betrayals.
And for the first ti, I questioned everything I had believed.
What if Dorian Valen was never the villain?
What if I was the one painting him that way?
The realization—no, the possibility—shook .
I left him that day.
Without stabbing a dagger through his chest. Without vengeance in my heart.
I walked away.
I didn’t know why.
Maybe it was guilt.
Maybe I was scared I’d kill him and wake up again.
Or maybe... I just needed ti.
And now, here I am again.
In this courtroom.
Watching the sa boy—no, the sa man—being accused of a cri I know he didn’t commit.
Laurel Barriston is lying.
I know it.
Because I’ve seen what she becos. What she does.
I watched Dorian cry out in disbelief, his voice breaking as he defended himself.
And for once, I felt sothing twist in my chest—not anger, not triumph, but sothing disturbingly close to empathy.
He wasn’t guilty.
Of that, I was now certain.
But I still said nothing.
I just sat there.
Watching him be condemned, as the chains of fate rattled back into place.
And sowhere deep down, beneath my carefully constructed mask, a voice whispered sothing I didn’t want to hear:
"What if you were wrong?"
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Author’s Note :
Comnt about your thoughts on this monologue.
Her character would be important for the first arc of Class Division Exam.
Also, if you like the story, feel free to drop a review in the Reviews section.
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