The moment I stepped into the grand hall, reality smashed right into me and made me realise once again I was in a fantasy world. Right. Couldn’t forget that even if I tried.
Vaulted ceilings arched overhead, chandeliers swaying in the faint breeze. Sunlight streamed through tall arched windows, scattering gold across a sea of students in black uniforms trimmed in red, blue, silver, and orange. Judging by the neat little clusters forming, the colours screamed noble status.
My own uniform—silver trim, flashy school crest emblazoned over the heart—felt a little too polished for someone everyone clearly hated. I tugged the blazer into place and lifted my chin, ignoring the hisses, glares, and barely whispered insults. The pleated skirt brushed my knees as I walked, a little too swishy for my taste, but whatever.
A cluster of empty seats sat near the back, looking like a gift from the gods. No one near me. No one wanting to be near me either. That sounds absolutely perfect.
I sank into one of the velvet plush armchairs—a deep plum colour and stupidly soft. They were so unnecessarily luxurious I briefly wondered if I’d wandered into the wrong building. Only the front row had wooden benches, crammed full of students with orange trim, gazes darting around, looking confused about why they were even there.
While searching through Raven Vidier's drawers and closet this morning, I realised I had been dumped into an academy setting. I had found a campus map, a schedule, and this lovely little uniform. After deciding Snow would stick out like a glowing neon sign at the academy, I’d left him behind and trudged here alone.
And I had just let my muscles melt into the chair when someone plopped into the seat beside me.
I didn’t need to look. I just rolled my eyes. “I said this area’s pest-free,” I muttered.
Asher stretched out like he was preparing to get into bed—legs sprawled, arms folded behind his head. His trim wasn’t red or blue or silver. It was gold.
He cracked one golden eye open and smirked. “You looked lonely. I’m providing a community service, free of charge.”
I let out the loudest, most dramatic groan my soul could muster. Before I could punch him through the floor, the room fell silent.
Two figures stepped onto the stage.
And my stomach twisted. I could never forget these two, even if I tried—the golden-haired prince and the pink-haired saintess.
I dug my nails into the velvet armchair, taking deep breaths as I tried to calm the fury simmering in my gut.
A warm breath brushed my ear. “So,” Asher whispered, “you really don’t like princes. Guess I won’t take it personally.” He chuckled and leaned back, eyes drifting shut like this was all just entertainment for him.
The prince stepped forward, smile blazing bright enough to make half the room swoon. He looked like the walking cover of some trashy romance novel—golden hair, heroic posture, fake perfection radiating off him like a holy light.
“Welcome to a new year at the Lerciert Royal Academy,” he said, voice smooth enough to butter toast. “For those who don’t know me—”
He paused—a long, heavy pause. The kind meant to look humble but was really just a spotlight-grab. Predictably, a chorus of dreamy sighs and giggles rose from the crowd.
“I am the Crown Prince of the Lerciert Kingdom, Cyrus Tidus Angello Lerciert.” He flashed another blinding smile. “But while I’m attending the academy, you may simply call me Cyrus.”
He didn’t move on until at least ten girls swooned. Then he gestured to the pink-haired girl beside him.
“And this,” he said warmly, “is Lillie Collier. Though born a commoner, she has been adopted into House Deschet and recognised as the kingdom’s Saintess. Please treat her with the kindness and respect she deserves.”
Lillie stepped forward, giving a bow so delicate it looked rehearsed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she said, voice soft, almost trembling. “I… might be awkward and clumsy, but I’ll try my hardest.” She gave a cute and sweet smile, looking nearly too innocent. But her eyes were as dead as glass. Like she was faking all this cutesy innocence.
I darted my gaze around but no one else noticed. Every gaze seemed to be lovingly admiring the little saintess.
Once she retreated, Cyrus continued, shoulders straight, smile perfect. “We have been chosen as this year’s representatives. I hope everyone strives to improve themselves, master their abilities, and forge connections that honour their families.”
His gaze swept across the sea of students and stopped on mine. For a single, jagged heartbeat, his face twisted into something ugly and vicious, like he wanted to gut me onstage. Then it vanished. Returning to the prince’s dazzling smile as if nothing had happened.
“And remember,” he added lightly, “those who break academy rules will be dealt with. From public duels to arena penalties, the academy ensures that everyone can witness the consequences.”
A soft murmur rippled through the crowd.
I felt the threat like a blade pressed to my throat, like it was personally aimed at me. Right. The audience—both inside and outside this simulation—already had their popcorn ready to witness Raven Vidier’s downfall.
Fine. If they wanted a show, I’d give them one hell of a finale.
Lillie clapped cheerfully. “Okay! Classes start tomorrow morning. Let’s make this a wonderful year together!” She spun, skipped a few steps, then abruptly turned back. “Oh! Right—everyone dismissed!” She beamed, then scampered offstage.
Cyrus exhaled like he’d aged ten years and followed.
I stretched and stood, rolling the tension out of my shoulders. I turned my gaze to Asher, who was slumped beside me, chin dipped to his chest, raven hair sliding over his eyes.
Completely asleep.
For half a second, I considered nudging him awake—maybe kicking the leg of his chair, just for fun—but decided my sanity was worth more.
Let the prince drool.
I slipped out of the hall without a single glance back.
I’d barely taken five steps into the corridor when a pair of hands seized me, yanking me sideways into a dark, branching hall. My back slammed into stone hard enough to rattle my skull.
A hot breath slid along my ear. “You should’ve run when you had the chance.” Venom dripped from every word. His forearm pinned me in place, crushing my chest against the wall. “You’re an embarrassment to the Vidier household,” he hissed. “Mother and Father already heard about your little disaster last night. One job, you were given just one job: win Prince Cyrus’ favour and aim for the crown. But nope. You got humiliated in front of the entire academy.”
I struggled in his grasp but couldn't budge one inch; instead, I forced my head to the side just to see who the hell held me.
He was built like a brick wall—broad shoulders, thick arms straining against his uniform. Dark brown hair slicked back to reveal a forehead shiny enough to fry an egg on, muddy brown eyes burning with disgust and hatred.
Fantastic. This must be my loving family.
“How sweet,” I said, making my voice as icy as I could. “A warm greeting from dear big brother.”
His grip tightened. Pain shot up my arm, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting. “You won’t be snarking when you’re expelled,” he sneered. “Mother’s already considering selling you off as a slave. And honestly? That’s generous.”
A cold wave washed over me, but I kept my chin high.
Then he leaned in—too close, far too close—nose brushing my neck as he inhaled. His fingers slid through my hair like he had any right to touch me.
“Maybe I’ll be a kind brother,” he murmured, voice low and grotesquely amused. “Teach you how to please a master before you’re shipped off.”
Heat flared up my cheeks—not fear or embarrassment, but pure rage.
He smirked. “Look at you tremble. Thinking about what I could—”
My forehead snapped forward with all the force I could muster.
Crack.
Pain ripped through my skull, but the satisfying grunt he let out was worth it. I spat straight into his stunned face.
“If you touch me again,” I said, voice shaking with fury, “I’ll make sure you lose the one thing you need to please anyone.”
His expression twisted. He raised his hand, ready to strike.
I braced—
—and the blow never landed.
“Not exactly how a brother should act, Damien Vidier.” Asher’s voice cut through the hallway like a blade. He stood behind Damien, fingers locked around his raised wrist, expression somewhere between disgust and boredom.
Damien turned, teeth bared. “This is family business, Prince Asher. Even you have no right—”
“When you’re about to hit a defenceless girl,” Asher said, eyes flashing with a brief streak of violet, “it becomes my business.”
He threw Damien’s arm aside like it weighed nothing.
Damien stumbled, fury twisting his features before he spat, “So that’s how it is. You two really deserve each other.”
He stormed off, boots echoing like thunder.
Asher turned to me, offering a hand and a crooked grin. “You good?”
I slapped his hand away so hard his fingers jolted. “I didn’t ask for your help. And who the hell is the ‘defenceless girl’ supposed to be?” I straightened my blazer, breathing out through clenched teeth, and walked right past him.
“You’re welcome,” he called cheerfully behind me.
I didn’t trust myself to look back—I’d probably try to break his nose. My pulse hammered in my ears as I stormed down the corridor.
I needed out. Out of the hall. Out of the academy. Out of this suffocating script they’d shoved me into. What the hell did they fill this simulation with? Freaking masochistic maids and sadistic brothers? If I couldn’t punch the programmers who designed this place, then fine.
I just needed something else to kill.
