Blazar's face burned like she'd swallowed live coals. The heat crawled down her neck, prickling under her skin like a thousand ants marching to war.
Every muscle in her body locked—she might as well have been turned to stone right alongside Vyne, was frozen, his usual smirk stuck mid-curve like a broken clock hand.
The silence between them wasn't just awkward; it was a live wire thrashing in a puddle, ready to electrocute them both.
She shot upright, fingers fumbling with the towel, knotting it so tight the fabric groaned in protest. The air reeked of soap, sweat, steam, and something sharper—fear, or maybe fury. She couldn't tell anymore.
"I can keep this a secret," Vyne said, his voice slick as oil, "and I can do something about those two boys." His confidence slithered back, but the tension? Thicker than blood.
Blazar refused to look at him. "I don't care. Deal with them, then I'll kill you later." Ice dripped from every word.
Vyne's smirk returned, lazy and lethal. "Why hide, anyway? You're sexy as hell in your feminine form."
She snatched her bag, the strap biting into her palm. "I hate questions."
Without another word, she stormed out, leaving him standing there with that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips.
In the privacy of her room, Blazar pulled on her disguise with practiced efficiency. The dark hood fell over her features like a shroud, casting shadows that obscured her face completely. She tugged on loose-fitting trousers that hung baggy around her legs, deliberately shapeless and masculine.
The fabric was rough against her skin—a constant reminder of the lie she lived. Since she hadn't yet joined any of the prestigious circles that ruled Prestigia High, she had no uniform to mark her place in their rigid hierarchy.
She looked exactly what she was, a nobody, nothing—exactly how she preferred it .
As she stepped into the courtyard, the morning air felt heavy with more than just humidity.
She could feel it immediately—the weight of dozens of eyes tracking her movement like predators watching prey.
Students stopped mid-conversation to stare, their gazes burning into her like brands.
She caught the subtle pointing of fingers, the not-so-subtle whispers hidden behind cupped palms, the way conversations died as she passed only to resume in urgent, excited murmurs once she'd moved on.
"They say she wanted to kill Dante..."
"She is surely dying today pitty her mother."
"Orion is just some idiot who considers himself stronger than the thunderbeast."
The attention was suffocating, pressing down on her chest until each breath felt labored. was too much. But her brain was buried in a pit of her own problems.
What if vyne tells someone? What if the two boys notice that Orion is the guy they saw, that orion is a woman? What if...
"Yo."
Vyne's hand landed on her shoulder—warm, heavy, inescapable.
"Vyne, leave me alone," she grunted. "What do you want from me anyway?"
He shrugged. "Nothing. I want totally nothing. I'm your guide until you know about Prestigia High."
Then he pulled out a disposable dish from his bag, that smelled heavenly despite its humble packaging. The greasy scent of dough and cooked meat wafting up. "You're late for breakfast. You'll need this before the trial."
Blazar stared at him with naked suspicion, her eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. His expression remained perfectly calm, almost charming in its serenity, not a flicker of malice or deception crossing his features.
She searched his face desperately for signs of bad intentions, for the cruel satisfaction that usually accompanied someone holding power over her. But there was nothing—just steady, patient concern.
A frustrated groan tore from her throat, raw and defeated. "Fine. I'll eat it," she said, her voice hollow with resignation. "I'm probably dying today anyway, so even if you poisoned it, what difference does it make?"
Before Vyne could respond, a commotion erupted nearby. A group of male students had formed a tight cluster, pushing and prodding a scrawny boy at their center like wolves encouraging their weakest member to approach dangerous prey.
"Come on, he's not going to eat you," one of them whispered—not nearly as quietly as he thought.
The boy stumbled forward on unsteady legs, his face pale as parchment and slick with nervous sweat. His hands trembled visibly as he approached, each step more uncertain than the last.
"Can I... can I get your autograph?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, shaking like autumn leaves in a gale.
The request hit Blazar like a physical slap. "Why the hell would you need my autograph?" she barked, her voice cracking like a whip across the courtyard. Half the students in the area turned to stare, their conversations dying mid-sentence.
"Bec-because I'm... I'm your fan," the boy managed to shiver out, his words barely coherent through his terror. "I admire your... your audacity."
Something inside Blazar snapped completely. "ARE YOU MOCKING ME?" she bellowed, her voice echoing off the stone walls like thunder. The raw fury in her tone made several students step back instinctively.
Before she could take another step toward the trembling boy, Vyne's strong hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her away from the rapidly from the gathering crowd, as if the next thing Blazar would do is to stab the boy to death.
"What is wrong with you?" he lectured seriously, his voice carrying the stern authority of a father disciplining a wayward child.
"He was clearly laughing at my problems," Blazar protested, though doubt had begun creeping into her voice, making her sound less certain than before.
"Haven't you checked your Glint yet?" Vyne asked seriously, pulling his phone from his back pocket with practiced ease.
"I've been thinking about my death the whole time," Blazar snapped, her anger flaring again like a struck match. "If you were in my position, with one day for some self-absorbed kings to decide your entire future, you'd understand."
"Try to be happy, even if it's just for one day, because you, Onion—"
Blazar's scowl could have curdled milk at the hated nickname, but Vyne continued as if completely immune to her deadly glare, already accustomed to her volatile moods.
"—you're the first person to go viral at Prestigia High. To actually trend. Not just because you're facing execution like the others, but because you stood up to a king, and four others stood up for you in return. You have a growing fanbase, Blazar. Though I should mention, the number of your enemies is also... considerable."
He thrust his phone directly in front of her face, the screen's glow reflecting in her widening eyes.
Blazar's mouth fell open in complete shock, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the impossible numbers scrolling across the screen.