Hector's boots pounded against the stone floor as he sprinted out of view, calling over his shoulder, "You're not gonna like what comes next, but kudos, kiddie! I'm not paid enough for this!"
Rea blinked. "What the hell...?"
She shook it off and made her way up the curved staircase into the vaulted entrance hall, shoulders tense, fingers twitching near the hilt of her sword. She didn't get far.
At the top, leaning against a carved stone balustrade, was Arthur Winstor, a crystal glass of wine in hand, his expression already sour.
He took one look at her and scoffed. "Something stinks... could only be you, peasant."
Rea stopped dead. Her brows lifted lazily as she said, "Look what the cat dragged in. I'm the least of your worries, pretty boy. I come home. You run from your daddy."
Arthur's lips curled. "This is my home by right. I come when I feel like it. The parents' meeting is a coincidence."
An Hour Earlier : Student-Parent Hall, Academy Grounds
Arthur sat in the velvet-cushioned meeting chamber, fingers drumming on the polished table. The minutes stretched. Every tick of the wall clock increased his unease. The last thing he wanted was another lecture from Charles—his father's disappointment was as suffocating as it was predictable.
Suddenly, the doors burst open.
Harry Winstor stumbled inside, wide-eyed and flustered. "Where is Father? I can explain everything..."
Arthur didn't even flinch. He leaned back, swirling his wine. "Damn. Father finally managed to break you... Harrybear."
Harry blinked, utterly thrown. "What are you talking about?! Miren, Tomas, and Ellis told me Father came through early, and he was badmouthing me."
Arthur raised a brow. "Those idiots left over an hour ago. You've been played."
Harry's mouth opened. Closed. His mind scrambled. Annabella. The wine. The servant. Someone had set him up. And whoever orchestrated this worked with those three. If he found them, he'd find him.
He couldn't let Arthur suspect. Couldn't know how close he'd come to taking Annabella again.
Harry forced a laugh. "Guess I got pranked."
Arthur didn't buy it, but shrugged. "Pointless prank."
The brothers waited in cold silence, Harry pacing like a caged lion, Arthur seated with studied calm, until with a groan of disgust, Arthur stood.
"I do not wish to see Father," he muttered. "Changing plans."
He summoned the teleportation spell, changing its coordinates mid-cast. The swirl of golden energy filled the room.
"You ought to stop defying him!" Harry shouted. "He knows what's best for the family!"
Arthur paused. His voice came quieter now. "He lost the plot long ago. I used to believe him. Not anymore."
Then he vanished into the portal.
Back to the Castle: Present Time
"Sure, whatever," Rea said, rolling her eyes. "Just stay out of my way."
Arthur's grip on his wine tightened. "Who do you think you are? I could "
In a flash, he summoned a weight of light, a shimmering force pressing down on Rea. Her knees buckled, the ground cracked faintly beneath her.
"It's time someone puts you in your place."
But before the light could crush further
BOOM.
The heavy doors at the far end slammed open.
George Winstor entered, towering in his dark blue robes, white hair bound back, his presence immense. The golden light of Arthur's spell flickered and snapped out instantly as George's gaze narrowed.
He walked directly to Rea, who was still on one knee. Gently, he took her elbow and helped her stand.
"You look like a beat-up little raccoon," George said softly, brushing dust off her shoulder. "I hope your journey here wasn't too eventful."
Arthur stepped forward, anger twitching on his face. "Grandfather...she provoked me, I had to..."
"Silence, boy."
The hall froze.
George's voice was calm but his magic was not. The true Weight of Light filled the room now, so perfect and suffocating it made Arthur's knees lock.
"She is under my protection," George said. "Do you dare defy your lord?"
Arthur's mouth opened and closed. He bowed his head.
"Good," George said, his gaze sliding to Rea again. "Come. Allegra will want to see you."
Arthur stood frozen as George and Rea walked past him, the older man's hand lightly resting on her shoulder like one would with kin.
Later That Evening: Winstor Family Dining Hall
The hall was lit by crystal chandeliers and sunstone sconces embedded into the golden walls, casting a warm glow over the long, carved table. Every place setting gleamed, gold-rimmed porcelain, silk napkins, forks polished to an absurd sheen. It was over-the-top. Like everything in the Sun Castle.
Rea stood stiffly near the doorway in freshly laundered clothes—fitted trousers, a charcoal vest, and a loose white shirt. Her hair was still damp from the bath Allegra had insisted on. She looked cleaner, sharper, but still Rea. She hated every second of this.
Across the table, Arthur lounged in his own brocade-lined jacket, dark crimson and gold, the Winstor crest stitched near his collarbone. He hadn't said a word since George ordered him to behave.
The silence between them was barbed.
Then, from behind them, light, delicate footsteps.
Allegra Winstor arrived, regal in her silver robe, her white-blonde hair braided and pinned high, her presence quieter than her husband's but no less commanding.
"Oh good, you're both here," she said with a gentle smile. "I was worried we'd have to drag you by your ears."
George chuckled from the head of the table. "You wouldn't have made it out alive, Kids."
Allegra took her seat and gestured for Rea to sit on her right. Arthur was already opposite her.
Dinner was served. Trays floated to the table on small levitation charms—herb-roasted meat, buttered roots, red wine in crystal goblets, and a steaming honey tart placed right in front of Allegra. She clasped her hands and said with a wickedly sweet smile:
"Arthur... Rea... Tell me, when did both of you decide to dress like brooding outlaws?"
Arthur choked slightly on his wine. Rea raised an eyebrow.
George laughed. "They do have a similar rags, don't they? All black, all attitude."
Rea muttered, "I don't dress like him."
Arthur sneered. "And I don't skulk around in alleyways."
Allegra tutted, sipping her tea. "Hmm. Yet both of you manage to eat like starving dogs when no one's looking. Watch your elbows."
Rea's hand froze mid-air. Arthur slowly retracted his fork.
George leaned in, grinning. "And the way you both frown when someone compliments you...it's uncanny."
Rea scowled. Arthur turned red.
Allegra smiled again, but this time with a twinkle in her eye. "You're more alike than either of you will admit. Which is why I had you both sit here tonight. I'm tired of the glares."
Arthur muttered, "She's a bastard"
Rea sat back, folding her arms. "He's a stuck-up snob."
Allegra sighed. "And yet here you are. Eating from the same pot. Sharing the same roof. Living under the same banner."
George raised his glass. "To the beginning of a flourishing friendship."
Rea and Arthur both looked disgusted. They didn't toast.
But, by the end of the meal, the tension had shifted. Neither of them spoke again, but at one point, when Rea reached for the bread, Arthur silently passed it without being asked.
Rea bowed her head. She didn't smile. But she didn't snarl, either.
Progress.
The Next Morning
The Winstor estate was never quiet, but this was different. Runners flew through halls, couriers barked messages, and Hector, usually a picture of control, was adjusting his collar like it had started biting him.
Rea and Arthur were both yanked from breakfast and rushed down through the marbled corridors to the Portal Room. The arcane floor lit beneath their boots as they arrived, the room humming with anticipation.
"What now?" Arthur grumbled, dragging his fingers through his already-perfect hair.
Rea turned, her expression unusually tight. "You'll want to stand straight for this one, playboi. Whoever they are, they're already stepping through."
Arthur stood arms crossed as he said. "Why are we even here?"
Rea replied with an elbow on Arthur rib that made him cough.
George cleared his throat loudly. "We will all be civil. It is an order."
The golden rune-etched chamber pulsed with light as the residual hum of the portal faded.
Alister De la Croix, head of House De la Croix and leader of the Ambroseus, stepped forward with his usual grandeur. He was dressed in tailored golden robes, a golden pin. His expression was calm, calculated, a man always performing. Behind him, Annabella walked looking like an angel wrapped in velvet, expression cool, shoulders poised.
Rea's heart kicked once, too fast, then stilled.
Arthur stood straighter. His face lit up, lustful. "Annabella…"
George Winstor stepped forward, his presence effortlessly commanding, flanked by Allegra, ever the embodiment of grace and precision.
"Alister and Annabella," George said, his voice deep, unhurried. "Welcome to Sun Castle."
Annabella bowed elegantly. "Lord of light and Lady Winstor... the pleasure is all mine".
Alister gave a practiced bow. "Lord of light, and Lady winstor, it's always an honour. Your home is as radiant as ever."
Allegra offered a faint but warm smile. "Annabella, my darling you are stunning. Still as charming as you are dangerous, Alister."
"I do try."
Alister turned to Arthur, cutting the air. "Arthur. It's good to see you looking… ready to be wed."
Arthur stepped forward with pride and gave a shallow bow. "Lord De la Croix."
Then Alister's eyes slid past him to Rea.
His expression didn't shift much, but something flickered in his gaze. Not disdain, not open disgust… just interest. Clinical, like one observing an unpredictable creature.
"And this must be the young woman I've heard so much about," Alister said.
Rea stood tall, arms crossed. She didn't bow. "Reagan Stone."
Alister smiled, that politician's smile, a kinda crazy wide, toothless, empty. "Ah, yes. The Winstor protégé. The shadow in their sun. I must say, you've made quite the reputation for yourself."
Rea didn't return the smile. "They always talk. Doesn't mean they know anything."
Alister chuckled lightly, though the edge in his eyes said he didn't like being spoken to that way. "Wise for your age. I can see why George holds you in such regard."
Noticing her father's growing animosity towards Rea, Annabella stepped forward and smiled just enough. "Arthur. How unexpected."
Arthur grinned and moved closer, eager, oblivious. "You look… stunning. The capital suits you."
Rea scoffed quietly under her breath.
"Bit close, aren't we, prince?"
Arthur frowned. "What's your problem?"
Annabella's eyes flicked to Rea, then back to Arthur and though to herself: "This is bad. Father never told me we would be here. I can't be next to Rea and Arthur"
George spoke up, his voice a calming authority. "We thought it best the young ones enjoy some time together while we discuss more… delicate matters."
Allegra added, "The sun is high and the gardens are in full bloom. It's a perfect afternoon."
George placed a hand on Rea's shoulder gently. "Stay out of trouble, Raccoon."
Rea let out a dry chuckle. "I'll behave."
As the adults exited through the far archway, the pressure in the room shifted. Without their audience, the tension between Rea and Annabella began to surface like cracks in thin ice.
Arthur looked between them. Something in his stomach shifted. "What's going on here?"
Annabella said quickly, "Nothing."
Rea turned to him slowly. "Let's just say your fiancée is busy pretending you don't bore her to tears and it bores me"
Annabella's voice snapped, low and poised: "Reagan."
Arthur stepped between them. "You have some kind of allergy to personal space? Can't you tell when you are intruding? Go away"
Rea looked at him coolly. "I can't ! I have to make sure you don't ridicule the house Winstor by tripping on your own ego. That is the least I can do for my masters."
Annabella stifled a laugh, but then caught herself, cleared her throat, and straightened.
Arthur turned to her, puzzled. "You find this amusing?"
Annabella offered a perfect, practiced smile. "Hardly. Just reminded me of something foolish."
Rea tilted her head, stepping casually to the side. "Oh? Do tell. Something… cavernous, perhaps?"
Annabella's eyes flicked to hers, a quiet warning. "Some old story. From school."
"Right," Rea said dryly, folding her arms. "The kind where mages sneak off to a sagan village in disguise and win the festival games by sheer luck?"
Annabella's eyes narrowed slightly, betraying a flicker of something far more teasing than nostalgia. "It wasn't luck. It was charm."
Arthur blinked, confused. "Sneaking in a Sagan Village? What are you two talking about?"
Annabella cleared her throat. "Just… a school trip. Ages ago. You wouldn't remember."
"I wasn't invited to that one," Arthur muttered. "Apparently too important to be sent to muddy villages."
Rea smiled faintly. "Yes, gods forbid Arthur Winstor touches dirt."
Arthur shot her a glare. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"
"No," Rea said, with infuriating calm. "And I wouldn't want to. Someone has to keep things interesting."
Annabella, caught between exasperation and amusement, looked down at her gloved hands. "Enough. We're not children."
Rea leaned forward just slightly, lowering her voice in that intimate way that still managed to carry across a room. "No, we do tend to do more adult stuff nowadays."
Annabella inhaled sharply through her nose
Arthur stepped between them again, more annoyed than suspicious. "I'm starting to think you two really don't get along."
Rea glanced over her shoulder at Annabella, eyes twinkling. "On the contrary. We like teasing and messing around hard."
Annabella, controlling her voice, said evenly, "I Only mess..., whatever that means, when the company is… pleasurable."
Rea shrugged scratching the back of her head. "Or when the pressure's just right."
Arthur, smugly holding Annabella's hand like a trophy, led the way toward the narrow garden path. Rea had stopped walking, hands in her coat pockets, jaw tight.
The moment they rounded the next bend, the trimmed path toward the training arena echoed with sharp laughter and bare footsteps. Gabrielle was lying on the grass with her arms crossed behind her head, a soft breeze blowing her wild black curls around her face, happily chatting with Callen. Dean was tossing stones into a helmet like it was a pub game.
Arthur blinked. "You're not supposed to be here."
Callen sprang up like a performer at curtain call. "Ah, milord Winstor! What an honour to finally meet you!"
With theatrical flair, he bowed deeply. Dean joined in, hand to heart. "The sun itself pales beside you."
Gabrielle stood up and bowed her head lazily: "Pleasure, my lord! We've been consulting your grandfather's archives. The man's personal library is better organized than most cities. We're cataloguing. This is our legally sanctioned break."
Annabella stepped slightly behind Arthur, just as the boys took notice.
Callen blinked. "Oh. Sweet earth and sky…
Dean's jaw slackened. "Holy—"
Callen gasped. "Was she carved by gods or lightning?"
Dean, low and reverent: "I'd volunteer to be a chair just to be beneath her."
"I am sorry My lady," Gabrielle sighed, not even bothering to look at them. Forgive these vulgar fools!"
Rea rolled her eyes. "Have some dignity, guys."
But her voice was unusually subdued.
Gabrielle picked up on it instantly. Her gaze drifted to Rea, whose eyes, whether she realized it or not, had settled on Annabella with the kind of attention that wasn't casual. Or subtle.
Gabrielle strolled over to her with that half-smile that always meant trouble.
"I've heard a lot about Annabella de la Croix," she said softly, eyes still on Rea. "Didn't expect her to be quite so… incandescent."
Rea gave her a flat look. "You done?"
Gabrielle's grin deepened. "Just curious, that's all. You're awfully tense for someone who's just observing."
Annabella, now fully attentive to the exchange, arched a brow. "And you are?"
Gabrielle turned toward her with a theatrical bow. "Gabrielle Mondego for your service"
Rea arched her eyebrow as she thought to herself: "Was that Jealousy she sensed from Annabella? "
Annabella offered a smooth, practiced smile. "Your father is a brilliant man. His policy templates are interesting to say the least."
Gabrielle tilted her head, amused by the poise. "I've met queens who blink more."
Annabella replied without missing a beat. "And I've met jesters who speak less."
Arthur shrugged as he said: "You are too kind my lady... Her father is a real nuisance."
Annabella said annoyed. Let's remain civil, My lord! There is no honour in such comments."
Gabrielle laughed, delighted. "Sharp tongue. I like her."
She turned to Rea again, voice dropping so only she could hear. "Though I imagine you like them more like me."
Rea didn't take the bait. She just crossed her arms and stared out toward the field.
Gabrielle gave a slow, knowing nod. "Thought so."