{Regina}
~**^**~
As we filed out of the auditorium, our steps crisp against the courtyard tiles, the chatter of students still clung to the air—Kathryn Morgan this, Regina Shaw that.
I could still hear it, even as we walked toward the Student Council office.
Their voices, their admiration, the way they had clapped when the vice-chancellor announced my na.
I had stood, smiled, and had waved.
And all the while, Elira sat in the crowd like a shadow, watching bask in a light that would never belong to her.
The corner of my mouth curved up. My heart humd with satisfaction, warm and delicious. ’Kathryn Morgan’s legacy was mine to claim. It was my influence. My glory.’
No one cared about Elira. No one even knew.
That was the beauty of it. She could glare, she could sulk, and she could cry all she wanted. But what would she do?
Stand up in front of the entire school and announce the truth? That she was Kathryn Morgan’s daughter?
That would only raise more questions than she could ever answer. Questions about why an Alpha-born had fallen so low. Questions about her cursed oga status.
No—Elira’s silence was the only option she had. And that silence was my stage.
I lifted my chin a little higher as Kaelis and Thorne walked just ahead of , their heads tilted close in quiet conversation.
I didn’t care what they were plotting or whispering. For once, the spotlight wasn’t on them. It was on alone.
Finally!
I had worked too hard, held my tongue too long, clawed my way up step by step. And today, it paid off.
The students saw , not just as Regina Shaw, the PR Officer, but as a relation of ESA’s brightest star.
I could almost laugh with the thrill of it.
And best of all? That little cousin of mine had to sit there and watch it all unfold, completely powerless.
The satisfaction of that thought made my steps lighter, as though the applause from earlier still echoed beneath my heels.
---
The refrigerator door clicked shut, and the fizz of soda cans filled the quiet as we carried drinks and packets of imported crisps back to the low glass table in our private sitting area.
Thorne leaned back into the plush leather sofa with his usual lazy arrogance, stretching his long legs out as Soraya arranged a plate of chocolate-dipped biscuits within easy reach.
This was our sanctuary, the heart of the Council’s power with no prying students or professors. It was just us and the soft hum of enchantnts woven into the walls for privacy.
Caleb twisted open a bottle of sparkling water and smirked. "So," he said, glancing at Kaelis, "what do you think this year’s Founder’s Day will be about? Last year it was unity and heritage, rember? All that ceremonial nonsense."
Nyra’s dark gaze flicked up from her glass. "The Vice-Chancellor didn’t reveal a the today which is strange. She usually hints at it by now."
Thorne shrugged, uninterested. "Whatever it is, it will be grander than last year. The King’s coming, after all."
The others humd in quiet agreent, settling into easy chatter about decorations, rehearsals, and roles the Council might be expected to play.
I sipped my drink, but my mind was elsewhere, thinking back to the image of Elira sitting in the crowd, her wide eyes when the Vice-Chancellor announced my na in connection with her own mother.
And that mory blood into an idea.
I set my glass down with a soft clink and leaned forward, my smile cutting sharp across my face. "Speaking of Founder’s Day..." I let the words dangle before continuing,
"It would be the perfect ti to put an end to a certain first-year’s existence here. Imagine it: Elira Shaw disgraced publicly for disrupting the ceremony. One good strike, and she will be expelled. No more whispers, no more sympathy. She will be completely gone."
I could almost taste the satisfaction of it as I said it.
And for a mont, the others stilled. Soraya arched a brow, Thorne smirked faintly, Caleb leaned back with interest.
I thought I had their attention until Kaelis’ voice cut through the room, sharp and absolute.
"No."
The single word cracked the air. My smile faltered as Kaelis, who was seated like a queen at the head of the sofa, sat straighter, her posture carved from pride itself as her silver curls glead under the enchanted lights.
"There will be no spectacle on Founder’s Day," she said, her tone leaving no room for debate.
"Not with her, and definitely not with anyone else. That day is about the Academy’s greatness, and nothing—" her eyes swept the room, landing squarely on , "—nothing will stain it."
For a heartbeat, I just stared, heat crawling up my neck. The refusal landed heavier than I expected, turning the sweetness of my drink into sothing sour at the back of my throat.
"But—"
Her hand lifted, silencing before I could gather my argunt.
"You forget who will be there," Kaelis continued, voice rising with disdain. "My father. The King himself. Founder’s Day is broadcast across the world. It will be the stage of my speech, my legacy as Council President. Do you think I will let your petty grudges turn it into a farce?"
The disdain in her tone scorched hotter than fire.
"Abort that idea, Regina," she snapped. "Don’t try anything funny."
The finality in her words pressed into my chest like a weight. Before I could summon a reply, Kaelis rose to her feet. She smoothed her skirt with one graceful motion, then swept from the room, her steps sharp against the polished floor.
The silence she left behind felt suffocating.
Just then, Thorne gave a low whistle. "She’s not wrong. Last thing we need is chaos with the King in the audience."
Nyra finally spoke, her voice as cool as her expression. "Founder’s Day isn’t the place for personal grudges. It’s for history. For us to leave our mark."
Caleb shrugged, though his smirk lingered. "Kaelis wants perfection. She will get it. Best we stay in line."
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