Charlotte had to complete the formalities of her resignation as student council president earlier that day, so she couldn’t accompany Vivian as she usually did.
Yet the process ended much sooner than she expected, leaving her free to head to the literature classroom to pick him up.
Before making her way there, she paused to check her reflection—adjusting her hair with practiced care and straightening the crisp folds of her white uniform.
Every detail had to be flawless; her appearance had to radiate the dignity befitting her.
As she walked down the hallway, students passing by couldn’t help but let their gazes linger on her.
In response, Charlotte shot them a cold, warning glance.
She might enjoy the fact that she was beautiful, but she absolutely refused to allow anyone, anyone except Vivian, to look at her that way.
Though anger often found its way into Charlotte’s heart, today she was in a slightly better mood.
The reason was simple—she would get to attend the academy alongside her beloved.
True, they only shared one class together, history, but even that brief ti was enough to make her heart flutter with joy.
The thought of sitting beside him, listening to the sa lecture, existing in the sa space—such little things filled her with happiness that no one else could ever understand.
As Charlotte walked through the hallway, the literature classroom finally ca into view.
A quick glance at her wristwatch told her it was about ti for the class to end.
Before she could reach the door, the professor stepped out, followed by a stream of students spilling into the corridor, their voices buzzing with chatter.
Dozens of conversations overlapped, boys and girls gossiping about countless trivial things, but there was one detail they all seed to share.
Vivian’s na.
It passed from mouth to mouth, whispered, muttered, or spoken outright.
Yet alongside it was another, more curious word that pricked at her ears, princess.
Her brow furrowed. ’Princess? What princess?’ Curiosity quickly twisted into unease, and without hesitation, she murmured a spell under her breath, weaving magic to heighten her senses.
"Hey, what’s with him?" one boy scoffed, his tone sharp with jealousy. "He was sitting with the princess—and did you see how she was caressing his hair the whole ti?"
The words struck Charlotte like ice. A princess? Sitting with her Vivian? Her mind raced, confusion battling suspicion, as she stayed rooted to the spot, waiting—watching—for him to appear.
Not long after, Vivian stepped out of the classroom.
Charlotte froze. His expression was one she wasn’t familiar with—his cheeks faintly flushed, his usually neat hair slightly disheveled, as though soone’s hands had just brushed through it.
"Viv—" she began softly, ready to call out to him.
But before the na could fully leave her lips, another figure erged behind him. Charlotte’s eyes narrowed instantly. She knew who it was.
’Why is she with him?’
Her frown deepened as her gaze locked onto the girl, long, flowing hair, a dignified stride, and that all-too-familiar presence.
Princess Marinate Hamsborn of the Arya Empire. A girl who wasn’t just her rival in prestige and influence, but the very sa one who had dared to compete against her for the seat of student council president.
The sight of Vivian walking ahead with her in tow made Charlotte’s chest tighten with an ugly mix of jealousy and anger.
"How dare she put her eyes on what’s mine..." Charlotte muttered under her breath, fury simring in her voice.
Without another thought, she strode forward, her steps quick and decisive, heels striking against the polished floor with purpose.
The mont she drew closer, Vivian finally noticed her. His eyes widened slightly, and he gulped audibly, as if caught in a situation he didn’t know how to escape from.
Behind him, Princess Marinate tilted her chin ever so slightly, her lips curving into a smirk that was both mocking and triumphant.
The expression wasn’t ant for Vivian—it was aid directly at Charlotte.
"Hello, Princess Charlotte. How have you been?" Marinate greeted smoothly, her tone laced with false sweetness as Charlotte ca to a stop directly in front of Vivian.
Charlotte ignored the pleasantries entirely. Her gaze fixed on Vivian, who stood frozen between them, his face pale, his expression unsettled, as if he had just seen a ghost.
"Why are you with him?" she asked coldly, her voice cutting straight to the point, leaving no room for gas.
Marinate tilted her head, feigning innocence, and gave a careless shrug.
"What do you an?" she replied, her eyes glinting with amusent.
"You know very well what I an," Charlotte snapped, her voice low but sharp enough to cut.
Her eyes twitched with irritation as she stepped closer, her presence pressing against the space between them. "And you dared to touch him? What’s wrong, Marinate, were you so bitter over losing the election that you thought you could make up for it by going after him?" The mocking edge in her tone dripped with contempt.
Marinate didn’t flinch. Instead, she let out a soft chuckle, elegant and infuriatingly calm.
"Princess," she said smoothly, her eyes glimring with challenge, "you don’t have any rights over him that forbid from approaching him... now do you?"
’This bitch...’ Charlotte seethed inwardly, her nails digging lightly into her palm as she shot back, "And how do you know I don’t have any rights over him? We are going to be—"
The words nearly spilled out—married—but she caught herself at the last second, the thought that she shouldn’t say such things appeared in her mind as her jaw clenched.
Marinate arched an eyebrow, tilting her head with feigned curiosity. "You are going to be what?" she pressed, her tone teasing, as though savoring Charlotte’s hesitation.
Charlotte’s lips tightened. "No... nothing. I don’t need any reason to have rights over him," she hissed, her stare burning into Marinate’s like a blade. "He is mine, and mine alone. So stay away."
But Marinate only laughed softly, a graceful, mocking sound that grated against Charlotte’s ears. "My, my... how can you say such things, Princess? Viv isn’t an object now, is he?"
’Viv?’ The way she said it, so casually, so intimately, made Charlotte’s blood boil.
’How dare she refer to him like that...’ She swallowed down the curse rising to her lips and instead turned her eyes to Vivian.
But he wasn’t looking at either of them. His gaze was fixed firmly on the ground, his shoulders stiff, his silence screaming louder than any words.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak, he simply didn’t have the courage to.
Charlotte let out a long, brittle breath and finally, reluctantly, conceded, because she already knew he wouldn’t defend himself. "What do you want?" she asked, voice low.
"Him." Marinate answered without hesitation, as casual and cold as a verdict.
"Why? Is it, because you couldn’t win against in—" Charlotte began, already tasting the insult, but Marinate cut her off with a soft, amused shake of her head.
"No, Princess. You’re wrong. I’m not that petty. I didn’t co for revenge." Marinate’s smile widened, innocent and dangerous at once. "I find Viv...cute. He’s exactly the sort of man I want as my husband. So I want him."
’This snake of a woman...’ Charlotte hissed in her mind, grinding her teeth. She was just about to unleash her rebuke when Marinate’s voice sliced over hers.
"Why? Are you afraid I might snatch him away from you?" Marinate’s words dripped with mockery, each syllable honed like a blade.
That taunting smile of hers, it was like salt ground into an open wound, searing Charlotte’s pride.
"Hmph," Charlotte spat, her tone heavy with disdain. "He would never fall for a snake like you."
’Bingo.’
Marinate’s smile deepened, her eyes glittering with satisfaction.
Exactly the reaction she had been provoking. Tilting her head slightly, she leaned in just enough to press the point.
"Is that a challenge, Princess?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)