Aurelia studied Lysandra as she moved, a tumble of silk and sunlight, her hair the soft pink of dawn, and eyes like cut rose quartz.
She hopped and laughed like a rabbit, all easy motion and bright noise, a boldness that was both captivating and intriguing.
It should have been endearing, instead, Aurelia found herself alert, like a sentinel who'd smelled smoke in a crowded room, her cautious nature hinting at unseen dangers.
"I'm going to class," Aurelia said, already turning, the motion crisp.
Lysandra caught her wrist and, without ceremony, slipped her hand into Aurelia's.
The touch was warm and casual, as if this were nothing more than two friends walking to lessons. "I want to walk with you," she said, grin wide and unapologetic.
Aurelia froze, one eyebrow lifting. That won't be wise, she thought automatically. The nobles will talk, and the political and personal tensions will only grow.
Aloud, she asked, each word measured, the question a blade tapped against a string, "Are you fine being seen with me, Lysandra?"
Lysandra only laughed, easy, confident, like someone who never mistook volume for worth. "Gossip is overrated," she said. "It's loud, but it's shallow. I prefer interesting people."
Interesting, Aurelia echoed silently. The word lodged like an unfamiliar meal in her mouth, tasting faintly of Lucien and the courtiers who only admired what entertained them.
Is that what she means? Does she collect people the way others collect favors?
Lysandra's grin softened a fraction, and something almost private passed over her features. "If anything," she continued, shrugging as they blended into the river of students, "it makes life more amusing. I like to watch who panics and who profits."
Her voice lost none of its brightness, yet for a heartbeat, there was an edge, observation rather than mere merriment. "And I like company that doesn't flatter me."
Aurelia let the line hang between them. Does she measure people like Lucien does? The thought was small and quick, but it prickled.
Lysandra's laughter hadn't been cruel, but it hadn't been empty either.
There was appetite in it, curiosity that could become kindness, or a kind of appetite that chewed up what it liked.
She tightened her grip on Lysandra's hand, not from affection but from calculation, feeling the warmth and the uncertainty both.
Keep close, she told herself. Watch, and do not be taken for granted.
They turned a corner, sunlight filtering through the high windows, cutting the hall into pale gold and shadow.
Lysandra's hand still lingered in Aurelia's, swinging lightly as if she hadn't noticed the stiffness in the other's posture.
"So," Lysandra began, her tone sing-song, "You and the prince. You don't like him."
Aurelia blinked once. "Observation or accusation?"
"Neither," Lysandra chirped. "Just gossip that isn't shallow."
Aurelia gave a small exhale through her nose, something almost like amusement but closer to disbelief. "You're direct."
"I find life's too short to be anything else." Lysandra tilted her head, pink hair catching the light like silk. "You carry yourself like someone with a spine of steel and a heart behind glass. It makes people curious."
Curious, again. Aurelia's jaw tightened. "Curiosity tends to cut both ways."
"Oh, I hope it does," Lysandra said, undeterred. "You're far more interesting than the prince, for the record. He likes mirrors too much."
Aurelia stopped mid-step, her eyes narrowing in the faintest sliver of surprise. "You don't sound like someone loyal to him."
Lysandra smiled slowly, deliberately, and unreadably. "I'm loyal to stories worth remembering," she said softly. "And right now, yours looks far more promising."
For a beat, the crowd's noise washed around them, voices blurring into the hum of the academy halls.
Aurelia released her hand at last. "Be careful where you stand," she murmured. "Stories worth remembering often end with ash."
Her words carried that measured chill she'd honed since childhood, but Lysandra only smiled brighter, the kind of smile that looked soft until you noticed how still her eyes were.
"I like that," Lysandra said lightly. "You don't pretend to be polite when you don't want to be. Most nobles would rather die than drop the act."
Aurelia arched a brow. "And you'd rather rip the mask off?"
"Only if it's worth seeing what's underneath," Lysandra replied, voice bright as spun sugar. She fell into step beside Aurelia as they moved with the stream of students. "Besides, it's easier to tell who's dangerous when they don't bother hiding it."
That drew a reluctant, half-formed smirk from Aurelia. "You think I'm dangerous?"
Lysandra gave a cheerful hum. "Oh, absolutely. But danger isn't always a bad thing. It's…interesting."
That word again. Interesting. Aurelia's steps slowed, her mind catching on the echo of Lucien's voice, the same detached fascination he carried when speaking about people as if they were puzzles, not souls.
"If you find danger interesting," Aurelia said, tone cooling, "You'll end up burned."
"Maybe," Lysandra replied, eyes half-lidded in amusement. "Or maybe I just know how close to the fire I can stand."
They passed beneath an archway of carved marble, light pouring through like glass-filtered gold.
"I still think it's unwise to be seen with me," Aurelia murmured.
Lysandra laughed softly, the sound smooth and silken. "Then I'll take the risk. Gossip's shallow, and I like seeing who tries to drown in it. Besides…" she tilted her head, smile softening just enough to feel genuine, "I prefer company that doesn't flatter me. It's rarer than diamonds here."
Aurelia studied her for a long, quiet moment. The girl's tone was disarming, but her words were deliberate, every one meant to provoke or peel.
Perhaps, Aurelia thought, this one isn't naive at all.
Lysandra's smile widened, earnest now in a way that caught Aurelia off guard. "Look, I like you," she said, sudden and blunt. "You're cool. Brave. Bold. Beautiful." She leaned in, voice almost sheepish. "I mean it."
Aurelia blinked. The words landed softer than Lucien's practiced flattery, no performance, no edge. They sounded like a child's truth, messy and shining. She actually means it, Aurelia thought, surprise loosening the tight knot around her chest.
Lysandra folded her hands, as if arranging her confession into something presentable. "I saw you once before," she went on. "At a celebration, a duke's party last year. You were…different then. Refined, sure, but not like the rest. You carried yourself the way someone who knows what they're doing carries a sword."
She waved a hand, dismissing the memory with a laugh. "When you lost to that commoner, I thought, well, nothing really changed. You're still you. That's rare."
Aurelia felt heat rise to her cheeks. It was one thing to be admired for lineage or talent, another to be noticed for the shape of calm beneath.
Lysandra gave Aurelia an almost conspiratorial look. "I like interesting people," she said. "And you—" she tapped Aurelia's sleeve lightly, "—are the most interesting person I've come across in a long time."
Aurelia found herself allowing a small, involuntary smile to form. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Miss Vire," she said, voice wry.
"No," Lysandra answered, sincere and quick. "Compliment, maybe. But not flattery. I don't flatter."
They moved on, slipping between students pouring toward the Hall of Fundamentals. The corridor's stone swallowed the last of Lysandra's words, and the first murmurs followed them like a breeze.
At the lecture door, Kael looked up from his slate. The sight of Aurelia and Lysandra walking arm in arm, bold, unbothered, tugged something like amusement across his face.
He said nothing, only tilted his head in a small, private acknowledgment.
Aurelia met his eyes for a beat. Stay composed, she told herself, but the warmth of Lysandra's praise settled at her ribs like a slow ember.
Lysandra still hadn't let go of Aurelia's hand by the time they sat down. Her fingers were light but insistent, tracing idle circles against Aurelia's knuckles. "You're so warm," she murmured, eyes bright with unfiltered fascination.
Before Aurelia could pull away, Lysandra turned her hand over, studying it like a rare artifact. "Look at these," she said softly, lifting Aurelia's fingers to the light. "Strong, callused in the right places, soft where they should be. You train with steel, but you carry grace. Your skin, hmm, porcelain with a sun-kissed edge. It's… beautiful, really."
Aurelia blinked, her expression flattening into a polite blank. Is she a pervert, she wondered dryly, or just the strangest noble I've ever met?
The thought of Lysandra as some cunning manipulator, a hidden schemer like Lucien, faltered under the weight of her blatant honesty. No guile. No pretense. Just bold, cheerful absurdity.
"I—" Aurelia cleared her throat and tugged her hand back slightly, trying not to sound as flustered as she suddenly felt. "You have a rather unusual way of… greeting people."
Lysandra only laughed, resting her chin in her palms. "Maybe. But you didn't stop me."
Aurelia's composure wavered, the corner of her mouth twitching despite herself.
Saints help me. She's not a puppeteer. She's a menace to society.
She sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before murmuring, "You're weird, you know that?" Then, with a faint smirk softening her tone, she added, "But… you're cute. Just like a bunny."
Before Lysandra could react, Aurelia reached over and lightly patted her head, fingers sinking into the soft pink curls.
Lysandra blinked in surprise, then puffed out her cheeks in a dramatic pout. "What's that for?" she demanded, her bunny ears, if she had any, surely would've twitched.
Aurelia leaned back, feigning a look of quiet triumph. "Revenge," she said smoothly. "For being so weird."
Lysandra gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. "Weird? That's not weird, that's called admiring you!"
Aurelia's face went completely blank at that, eyes narrowing just slightly as if Lysandra had just confessed to a crime. "Admiring," she repeated, tone flat. "I'm afraid to ask what your definition of that word is."
Lysandra only grinned wider, resting her cheek in her palm, utterly unfazed. "You'll learn soon enough."
Aurelia exhaled through her nose, muttering under her breath, "Saints, I preferred the pervert theory."
She had just opened her mouth, half to scold Lysandra for that smug grin, half to hide her own fluster, when a familiar voice cut through.
"Aurelia."
Kael's tone was calm, even, but his sudden appearance made both girls turn. His slate was tucked under one arm, his hair slightly disheveled.
Lysandra's eyes brightened immediately. "Oh? The mysterious prodigy himself," she said with a teasing lilt. "Come to rescue your partner from my overwhelming charm?"
Kael blinked once, unimpressed. "Hardly," he replied, stepping closer. "I came to discuss the duel with Prince Lucien. You were there too, weren't you?"
His eyes shifted to Aurelia. "I wanted to go over what happened, your technique, his execution. There was something… off about his flow."
Aurelia straightened instinctively, her earlier playfulness vanishing. "Off?" she asked, frowning. "You mean his use of Aether?"
Kael nodded, setting his slate down on the table. "Yes. It looked refined, but there was a break between his cast and his feedback control. As if he forced the current rather than letting it align. I thought you might've noticed too."
Lysandra tilted her head, amused by how quickly the air shifted. "And here I thought you came to flirt," she said, chin propped on her hand.
Aurelia groaned softly. "He doesn't flirt, Lysandra."
Kael gave her a mild look. "Not in the middle of a tactical review, no."
That made Lysandra laugh, a bright, ringing sound that made a few nearby students glance their way. "Saints above, you two are adorable," she said. "Like opposites bound by some scholarly curse."
Aurelia's face reddened instantly. "We are not—"
Kael interrupted her neatly, clearing his throat. "Aurelia, I never knew you were proficient with controlling Aura?" he asked. "Have you been hiding it all this time?"
Aurelia paused mid-breath, a slight curl of amusement at the corner of her mouth.
Of course, he asks the obvious things. Practical, blunt, useful.
She smoothed her robe and answered with the extraordinary precision she used in council.
"No, I practice Aura from time to time," she said. "It's useful. It bolsters endurance, steadies nerves, and, if you know how, lets you shape straightforward force. But my training is Aether-first, that's where my lineage and instruction lie."
Kael let out a breath that sounded like it had been caught in his throat.
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes still on the sword and the way Aurelia had moved with it. "You make it sound like you... You're not just dabbling," he said finally. "That was precision. Not 'occasional practice' precision. It's almost—" He stopped, the word failing him.
Aurelia's mouth twitched in a half-smile, half-smirk.
It's true," she admitted. "I only practice formally now when I must. But when Sebastian was still here, before he left for the capital, he taught me. The basics, first. Then, more advanced work. He insisted on form, on hold and breath, and how to make the body speak Aura the way the hand speaks metal."
Kael swallowed. "Sebastian... his name sounds familiar. Who exactly is he?" The question came out smaller than he'd intended.
He must be someone of consequence, Kael realized. No ordinary tutor could refine that kind of edge.
Aurelia laughed then. "He's a member of the Royal Cavalry," she said, delightfully casual as if naming a favorite horse.
Her eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and genuine affection. "He left for the capital with his regiment a few months ago. He's... blunt. Difficult. The sort of man who yells at you for rounding your elbow. The best teacher I ever had."
Kael's jaw dropped a fraction, and the hand at his throat went to steady a pulse he hadn't noticed racing.
He felt both impressed and, oddly, smaller for having underestimated the lineage behind the name. "...of the Royal Cavalry," he echoed. "That explains a lot."
Aurelia's smile softened, fond and a little fierce. "He's a tyrant in the stables and a saint in the field," she said. "He taught me more than swordwork, he taught me how to stand when things get heavy. If you ever want a sparring partner who smells of horse and scolding, I can send you to his practice. He'll make you mend your grip twice before breakfast."
Kael chuckled despite himself, the sound a mix of awe and amused wariness. "I'll keep that in mind," he said.
Noted: do not cross Sebastian Caelistra.
The thought was absurd and immediate. He looked at Aurelia then, newly measured, "No wonder you can move like that. Not simply noble blood, it's like a household of soldiers shaped you as much as tutors did."
Aurelia's eyes held his for a beat longer than politeness required, a flash of sisterly pride and remembered training. "He was hard on me," she said softly. "But it's why I'm still standing."
Lysandra watched them with a bright, amused tilt to her head. "I never knew you two were actually close," she said.
Aurelia felt the world narrow to the sound of the words.
Close?
Her cheeks warmed faster than she liked. She opened her mouth to rebuke, 'We are not close, we are acquaintances,' but the protest dissolved into a small, helpless flush.
Kael merely shrugged, as casual as the motion of someone closing a book. "Seems that way," he said easily, voice like the hinge of a door.
If she wants to call it that, it's easier than explaining everything and leaving the rest unspoken.
Lysandra's eyes danced. "Did you go to him to beg lessons after your defeat?" she teased, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Aurelia's mouth betrayed her before reason could catch up. She sputtered, "W-what? No—absolutely not—I did not—" Her words tumbled in a mess of indignation and color.
Kael's mouth quirked in amusement. "You did ask how I beat you," he said, mildness in the tone that sounded like a footnote. "You wanted to know what I did."
The admission hit Aurelia like a small, stinging wind. Her indignation deepened into something sharper, frustration at being caught, at the truth being simpler and more humiliating than the stories she could tell herself. "I—asked—about the technique," she snapped, dignified outrage clinging to each word. "For study. For improvement. Not... not to grovel."
Lysandra laughed again, light and bright like someone delighted at a small joke. "Oh, you two make a good pair," she said, still smiling. "The duke's daughter and the prodigy commoner. The Academy will adore the gossip."
Her eyes flicked toward the benches, a few heads craned, and whispers were already knitting into a new story.
Aurelia felt the prick of heat and smoothed it down into the practiced curve of a smile.
Let them watch. Let them talk. I will answer with skill, not words.
She kept her voice calm. "If they'll learn something useful from it, let them. If they want drama, we'll give them discipline instead."
Kael made a faint, amused sound. "Spoiler, discipline is less fun to gossip about," he said, shrugging like it was the most obvious truth in the world.
A student nearby snorted and waved a hand. "If this is the new academy rom-com, I call second billing!" A ripple of laughter spread, and the tension in the air eased.
Kael gave a slight, dry grin. "Try not to starve the yard of entertainment," he murmured, and Aurelia caught a hint of teasing that made her cheeks warm for a second before she damped it down.
Lysandra patted Aurelia's arm, sincere now. "Seriously, good showing. You hid that well."
Aurelia shrugged, letting modesty wear the shape of resolve.
Hide less. Show more. Let skill do the talking.
Aurelia hid her smile behind a measured breath, but inside her thoughts tumbled like loose coins.
In such a short time, Lysandra had carved her way neatly into their orbit, bright, quick, impossible to ignore.
She's actually terrifying, Aurelia realized, watching the easy sparkle in Lysandra's eyes.
To charm people this easily... It's almost like a siren singing to sailors, and we're already leaning toward the song.