She really didn’t want to be here.
First of all, this was the student council.
The very place where the tragic romance of Anastasia and the crown prince began in the fifth novel.
That ant she’d be stuck witnessing their gross public displays of stupidity in who-knows-what corner of this godforsaken academy.
Anastasia had originally played hard to get. After all, the crown prince was a certified playboy.
Or, more accurately, a walking red flag with a royal title.
Even during their engagent, the guy was busy flirting with other girls. And his excuse? "I just wanted her attention."
Oh, sure. Because the healthiest way to get a woman’s attention is to kiss other people in front of her.
Anastasia, being the fiercely independent, touch-averse queen she was, gave him exactly zero of her ti.
And what did he do in response? Double down on the toxic behavior.
Instead of talking like a normal human being, he went around dramatically making out with won within Anastasia’s line of sight, just to see if she’d react.
And the readers ate it up!
"Omg, he’s so in love with her!! He only cheats because he wants her attention!!"
Apparently, n who cheat for you was a romantic fantasy now. So people were into that, but to her?
What the actual fuck.
Over ti, Anastasia’s icy resolve lted like cheap chocolate in the sun, and before anyone knew it, she had transford into a blushing, simpering ss.
And, of course, that led to hate sex.
Lots of it.
The kind of passionate, furniture-breaking, emotionally-toxic-but-physically-intense scenes that made readers swoon and therapists cringe.
Sowhere between their heated argunts and glares, they apparently found the ultimate connection through aggressively making out and "becoming one" in increasingly ridiculous locations.
Ew... I don’t fw with that...
Now, this walking red flag in royal attire was standing right in front of her.
She’d been cheated on before.
Even if Anastasia was a total bitch, no one deserved to be stuck with a serial cheater.
Not any man, not any woman, not even a particularly annoying houseplant.
"I’ll join," Verena blurted out before she could stop herself.
Self-preservation? Who’s she? At this point, it was less about politics and more about damage control.
"Oh? But we haven’t even said anything yet."
"I’ll join," she repeated, firm and unwavering.
They didn’t argue.
Verena had a certain reputation, sure, but lately, she’d been keeping her hands clean.
Besides, as the Conduitor of the Lost Zodiac, she needed powerful connections both to protect herself and to safeguard what actually mattered.
And so, she got her first assignnt: forming a Local Governnt Unit (LGU).
Every departnt had one, a mini political machine with a governor, vice governor, two representatives, and board mbers.
Simple, right?
Wrong.
Because Verena was in the Eclipsor Departnt.
A ragtag collection of losers, freaks, and professional social disasters. Trying to organize them was like herding cats.
No, worse. Like herding chaos gremlins hopped up on caffeine and bad decisions.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of political nonsense, the eting with the prince was rcifully over.
Verena barely had ti to stretch before she felt a sharp tug on her wrist.
"Huh—?"
Before she could react, Anastasia dragged her out of the room, pulling her into a quiet hallway where not a single student lingered.
Then ca the glare. Sharp, piercing, and full of suspicion.
"What are you planning?" Anastasia’s voice was low, edged with sothing dangerously close to a threat. "Why do you suddenly sound so serious about joining the student council?"
Verena tilted her head, a slow, teasing smile creeping onto her lips. Of course she would be suspicious.
"Oh? Is soone worried about ?" She leaned in slightly, voice dripping with amusent. "Don’t tell you’re actually afraid I’ll steal your little prince away?"
"Excuse ?"
"Relax, Your Highness. I have zero interest in your playboy prince. But if you really want to know..." She stepped back, flashing a lazy grin. "Maybe I just enjoy keeping you on your toes."
Suddenly, Anastasia slid her knees between Verena’s legs, trapping her in place.
Verena gasped, her face flushing.
What is this woman doing?!
Anastasia narrowed her eyes, her voice cool and dangerously calm. "Try anything funny, and I will end you." Then, with a smirk, she released her grip and walked away, leaving Verena blinking in stunned silence.
There was sothing oddly familiar about the whole thing. The way she acted... the way she looked.
Oh no.
Verena could practically feel the foreshadowing in the air.
This couldn’t be happening. Not like this.
She dropped to her knees in a dramatic flourish. "No!"
If this was where things were heading, she might need to rethink her entire life.
If this kept up, their rivalry would turn to into scenes of hate sex.
Her nightti activities had at least beco more energetic atleast.
No, not in that way.
Instead, she threw herself back into her lessons with Beatrice, and now, Raphael’s lessons too.
The man still looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, his mood as gloomy as ever.
Not one to let a little thing like moodiness ruin her fun, Verena decided to stir the pot.
She casually nudged him. "Hey, Raphael. Eat up the guilt and stop sulking," she said, throwing in a few choice words designed to hit every nerve.
At first, it worked.
His eyes flashed with irritation, and he nearly snapped back.
But just as quickly, the storm passed, and he exhaled, calming himself down.
"Really, Verena?" He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Do you always have to make things more complicated?"
"Complicated?" She smirked. "No, I just like to wake you up."
"I swear, you—"
"You need a distraction."
Raphael lunged, half-annoyed and half-amused, but she was already a step ahead, dodging his reach and tapping his shoulder from behind.
"How is Evelyn?"
"Thanks to ? She’s probably fine now. Most likely."
His frown deepened as he pointed his sword toward her neck. "I see. So, you’re the reason she’s slowly changing."
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