It wasn’t the sidelong glances or the way people moved aside as she walked through the campus that bothered her the most. Rather, it was the stinging silence. Mira walked through the halls of the Academy the same as she had so many times before; her presence felt by all but acknowledged by none. The whispers of her return—her fame, her importance—drifted in the air, but no one dared approach as if she were made entirely of glass and set high on a pedestal they were forbidden to touch.


    Her classmates hadn’t made a great deal of effort to know her, but since the coronation, the weight of it had lifted but didn’t disappear. It was when they sidestepped her in hallways, eyes downcast, expressions tight with the knowledge of her title, that she realized she had never truly been invisible. It was more of a matter of being rejected. And she would have liked more to be than rejected than feared. Her return had been met with a wicked sort of fear, awe, and uncertainty, but never the warmth of familiar faces who thought the same of her now as they had when she’d left. It was almost suffocating.


    She needed to escape the stares, the whispers, the cold silence. Not bothering to linger too long, she gathered up her belongings and darted out the door. If she didn’t look at the faces full of awe, then they couldn’t matter to her. As she made her way to her usual routine, faster than usual, after her morning classes, a voice suddenly broke through her thoughts.


    “Mira.”


    She stopped, heart skipping a beat, only to find herself face-to-face with Shamine, that charmer of the court who always seemed to have a smile ready, as though the world were his stage. He’d been there for the coronation and brought a gift of… something. She couldn’t remember what it was, and for what it was worth she couldn’t recall the specifics of anything anyone had gifted her. There were too many. But she remembered his face. The crooked way his smile rose and dimpled into his cheeks, and the warmth of his eyes and sandy dark hue of his skin like the sun elves his family had descended from. Even his ears came to the slightest of tips, despite the generation of mixed breeding with the other races.


    Shamine stood there with that too-perfect look, his eyes glimmering with a hint of something else—something almost predatory—but she couldn’t place it. Of course, sun elves were known far and wide for looking almost… dangerous. The lions of the elven kind.


    “Shamine,” she said, her voice a little guarded. “I remember you from the coronation. How have you been?”


    He gave a sympathetic sigh, stepping closer with an almost theatrical sadness. “While I’ve been doing well, I fear my heart breaks,” he said, laying a hand on his chest. “I heard about homecoming. A shame, really, that you missed it. Admittedly, I did, too, but that was a matter of family obligations. My sister, she’s expecting. I’m sure you’ve heard. So, of course, I understand the responsibilities of nobility. Especially when one has to manage something as important as Edithir’s inheritance.” He paused, allowing her to process. “Embarrassing, I’m sure, for such a proud and powerful kingdom to have fallen so gracelessly by the crude prowess of someone so… lithe in their regard for beauty. But you did what you had to do—taking their failings upon your shoulders, preventing such a terrible fate as the crumbling of a kingdom. You’re truly a heroine worthy of splendorous applause.”


    Mira’s lips tightened. So this was what was being said? Haros was right; the humiliation was tenfold worse than the initial lie, and something so bold was doomed to fail. No one would believe it for long. She straightened, tipping her head slightly as she offered a polite smile. “Yes, the price of nobility is often steep.”


    He chuckled, his voice like warm honey. He swayed in step as he closed the gap between them, his hand running gently down her arm. “I admire that. The way you carry yourself. You don’t let such things affect you. Very few could handle such a situation with the same grace. It’s,” his voice dropped, “beautiful.”


    She blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his words. He was good at this—too good, and it made her heart falter. A part of her wanted to trust him, but she’d heard his ambition had a way of getting ahead of him. And there was something in his smile that was a little too wide to settle her nerves. But that was Shamine. He had always been a flatterer, but this… there was something different in his tone. Something earnest. Maybe he truly meant it, and he’d matured. Seeing peers rise affected even the most confident who were left behind.


    “I’ve admired you from afar for quite some time, Mira,” he continued smoothly, his gaze never leaving hers. “I’ve always thought highly of you, you know. Your strength, your poise. They’re unmatched. It’s always been intimidating thinking I could ever approach you, but something about seeing you again, since you’ve returned, called to me. I couldn’t keep to myself.”


    Her heart fluttered, the warmth of his words both pleasant and disarming. He did mean it, every word. Was it possible for someone like Shamine to truly admire her the way he claimed, or was this just another ploy? Ysara had warned her that men, especially under certain influences such as dragons or other beasts, would smell her. They’d know she was ripe for breeding, and they’d try to pursue her. Mira’s lips pulled in. Shamine wasn’t like that, though. She’d crossed paths with him from time to time enough to know he wasn’t that daring. Not that bold. Not that… primal.


    He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, his words carrying the weight of a secret. “Would you care to spend an evening with me? Not a date, of course,” he added with a charming grin. “Just… a chance to talk, to get to know one another. I regret having never made a great effort, and it would be an honor if you would afford me such an opportunity. Even if only just once.”


    Mira hesitated. After four years at the Academy, he was the first to have ever wanted her time. Haros didn’t count. He wanted everyone’s time. And the nights she’d indulged his invitations resulted in attending parties where he lost sight of her and she wandered back to her dormitory. Forgotten and unimportant. What she wouldn’t have given to have had that peace again.


    But instead, Shamine stood before her, offering a night she had no real expectations for. His invitation was genuine, wasn’t it? He seemed nervous, almost vulnerable in his request. It wasn’t the same chaotic energy Haros or Lazroth brought when they coaxed her from solitude. Or the sort of demand her study groups put on her when she put off sessions. No, Shamine wanted to spend time with her. She was sure of it.


    “I’m not sure…” she started, then caught a glimpse of his anxious expression and, before she knew it, the words slipped out. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, though. I have an exam tomorrow, so I really should spend the night studying. How about tomorrow night?”


    Shamine’s smile widened. “I promise it won’t be anything more than a simple conversation. Just two people getting to know each other better. I can stop by tomorrow night after the evening classes let out, so we don’t cross paths with the masses. I’ve never been one to make a show of my company when I want to appreciate it the most.”


    “Alright,” she agreed, her voice soft but determined. She could use a break from the solitude, from the whispers and the isolation. What harm could it do to go out for one night?


    As Shamine turned and walked away, Mira felt a curious unease settle in her chest, but she couldn’t place the reason. He was charming, yes, but something about him didn’t sit right. She shook her head, clearing those thoughts away. It was just nerves. She’d never gone out with anyone she had not already become well acquainted with before. No one she’d not had business with.


    <hr>


    The scent of smoke and earth lingered in the air as Haros reclined on a stone bench in the Academy gardens. His eyes were half-lidded, lost in the haze of the illicit herb he’d been smoking—willow root and some red weed. The world felt slow, dreamy, and full of possibilities, but he had no great amount of energy for those such things when his body became heavy and his thoughts light. He exhaled, the smoke curling around his head as Icarid, the handsome elven boy, joined him in the moment.


    Icarid was everything Haros could have wanted in a lover—slender, strong, with sharp features and skin kissed by moonlight. Blond hair fell like silk around his face, and his bright ruby eyes gleamed with mischievous energy. There was no one quite like Icarid, at least not in Haros’s eyes, and he was destined for greatness. Well on the path to becoming a renowned speaker, he had no reason to worry in the slightest about his future, and often, he was plagued by it.


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    They had shared countless encounters, some passionate, others casual, but all of them just as intoxicating as the smoke between them now. Somewhere between caresses and kisses, it was hard to pass on an opportunity with Icarid. He made every moment worth the trouble. Even now, as he adjusted himself, taking a seat beside Haros on the bench, both thoroughly satisfied with their exchange of pleasures, something more than cum and cocks was between them.


    Icarid turned to him with a curious expression. He studied Haros for a long moment, watching the way the sun kissed his cheeks and illuminated the undertone of his dark hair. What a beautiful and terrible man he’d become. To think they’d been boys once, dreaming of little more than of the silly games of childhood. And now, here they were lewd and tangled in each other’s lives and legs. He licked his lips, considering carefully what it was that weighed heavily on him, that had brought him to Haros in the first place.


    “There’s something I need to tell you,” Icarid said, his voice softer than usual.


    Haros raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on one elbow. “What is it?”


    Icarid hesitated, then confessed, “I’ve been thinking a lot about that girl, Mags, from the southern Academy. We’ve been dating a while now, and I think it’s something special.” His voice faltered for a moment. “I think I’m in love with her.”


    Haros snorted, half-teasing, “A woman? You? I thought you were a confirmed lover of men.”


    Icarid flushed, a rare blush spreading across his cheeks. “I am, and I would never deny my preferences, darling, but she’s different. She makes me think differently about everything.” He paused, then added, “And… I think I might have gotten her pregnant.”


    Haros’s expression shifted, but he held back a grin. “That’s quite the turn of events. So what now? You think you’ll marry her?”


    Icarid looked conflicted, twisting his fingers and curling in on himself. “That’s the plan, Haros. But I’m scared. I just turned eighteen, and Mags is at another school. I’m worried she’ll meet someone else, or worse—what if I’m not ready for this? I never once imagined fatherhood, not for myself.”


    Haros exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. He brought his rolled joint to his lips and took a long slow drag, then blew it out, clearing the smoke away from Icarid. “Relax. Things have a way of working themselves out. If she’s the one, everything will fall into place. Besides, if you need money, you know where to find me.”


    Icarid smirked, though the worry didn’t leave his face. “It’s not money I’m worried about. It’s her finding someone else.”


    Haros hummed in thought, pondering the situation. He didn’t understand it fully—how could Icarid fall in love with a woman? But as he lay there, staring up at the sky, something else crept insidiously into his mind. Love was fickle. It changed with the shifting of the breeze and the turn of the seasons. What if someone he loved met someone new? The thought gnawed at him, but before he could explore it further, Icarid interrupted his thoughts.


    “Did you hear Mira’s back?”


    The mention of her name caught Haros’s attention immediately. His heart skipped a beat. “Mira?” He offered a glance at his lover. “I heard.”


    Icarid nodded, then lazily stretched out. “I figured you did, and I wondered a bit what you thought of it. She came back to the academy today, you know. Shouldn’t you go see her instead of entertaining me? I hear she’s been in some very attractive company, even by my standards.”


    Haros’s chest tightened, and a sudden rush of jealousy flooded through him. He stood up abruptly, pacing a few steps back and forth. “She’s a queen; of course, she has everyone’s eye.” He paused, biting his thumb and looking at Icarid as if annoyed. “That bitch.”


    “I doubt she would appreciate knowing that is your pet name for her.”


    “It’s not a pet name.”


    “Do you tell yourself that before or after you call her a bitch?”


    Haros’s jaw churned, wanting badly to snap at him, but instead, he turned away. “Don’t call her that.”


    “Wouldn’t it be easier to tell her you’re in love with her?”


    “I’m not,” he lied, more to himself than Icarid. “Love’s bullshit.”


    “I’m sure,” he smiled, watching Haros struggle to find a sense of calm. “I believe,” he said slowly, watching him shift anxiously, “I saw her leaving the class building not so long ago with some… interesting company.”


    “What company?” Haros turned, his eyes narrowed and flicker of scales rising along his neck to the edge of his jaw.


    Icarid grinned. Jealousy was a beautiful color on him. “That little Tallus prick. Who else?”


    Haros sucked in a breath and before Icarid could say more, he was gone. If there was one person on the entire campus he hated, it was Shamine. That little shit had it out from him since the day they’d met, and putting Mira in his sights had more to do with trying to usurp than anything else. How would Mira know that, though? She’d been gone for months, and she was never anything close to a socialite. Secluded and concerned for her magic first.


    He rounded the corner, and there she was—Shamine snaking around her with a flash of a grin and a stroke down her arm. Her body angled toward him, smiling, listening intently. His fingers brushed the corner of her hair, and she didn’t so much as flinch as if she didn’t even notice. Haros’s heart crashed into his stomach, a wave of anger and jealousy surging through him. Mira, talking to Shamine? Looking like that? Any idiot could see how lovely she was when—Haros stepped back.


    When did he start thinking she was so lovely?


    He shook his head. It was a stupid crush on a girl who struck his fancy only for her mysteriousness. Now, she was bound to him. It was a mess. There was no place to start thinking anything else of her, especially not after she’d made clear that she didn’t want him any closer to her than he already was—a partner, and that was all.


    He stood frozen, heart pounding. No. He couldn’t interrupt, talk to her, see her. Not yet. He couldn’t face her, not with Shamine there and his blood boiling. Instead, he turned and retreated into the shadows, away from the sight of Mira laughing at something Shamine said, light and ringing like silver bells. A sound that he would spend all night dreaming of and wishing she would smile at him that way one day.


    <hr>


    After dinner in the local tavern hall, the most popular place in the town, Mira and Lazroth walked side by side through the darkened streets toward their dormitory. Laz was excited, practically bouncing with energy. He bit his lip, glowing with delight. His bright blue eyes caught every bit of light they passed, and his black hair gleamed as if he’d taken particularly fine care of it today.


    “So, are you ready for your date with Orden?” Mira teased, taking him by the arm to settle his restless energy.


    Lazroth flushed, a smile tugging at his lips. “I think so. We’ve been talking for a while now. I’m really looking forward to it.”


    Mira’s face softened. “I’m so happy for you, Laz. You deserve this.”


    Laz laughed, nudging her with his shoulder. “Thanks. It feels good to finally be with someone who likes me back.” His pace then slowed, and he grew more serious. “Have you talked to Haros yet? I haven’t seen him around, and last session, you were nearly joined at the hip before… well, everything. The ceremony, the coronation…”


    Mira frowned, unsure what he was getting at. “No, I haven’t. Why?”


    Laz shot her a teasing look. “Because I think you’ve missed the obvious.”


    Mira blinked, confused. “What do you mean ‘the obvious’?”


    Lazroth sighed, smiling knowingly. To a certain point, he felt like he’d grown up watching them orbit each other, a constant narrow miss of an opportunity. Neither seeing what he saw, what everyone saw when they looked at each other. Even from across a field, it was clear as day. “Mira, please, you can’t say you haven’t noticed, can you? Everyone can tell… Haros has feelings for you. He always has. He picked you to be his partner at ten, and he doubled down during the ceremony. It’s so obvious.”


    Mira’s eyes widened, her pulse quickening. “What? No… he’s just been protective. And since the ceremony, there’s been so much going on, he’s just—busy.”


    “Or he’s avoiding you because he’s nervous.”


    “Haros is a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them.”


    “He’s in love with you.”


    “He’s not.”


    Laz shook his head, grinning. “Mira, he’s not subtle. He wears his heart on his sleeve, even if he’s too proud to admit it. You’ve been his constant, even when he doesn’t show it.”


    Mira licked her lips and turned her gaze to her feet. A strange warmth spread through her chest, but she pushed the thought away. It was impossible. It was forbidden. “I think it’s just a moment of panic,” she muttered. “I’m the queen now. The entire dynamic was had where he thought he was something better than me, some higher order that I found impressive—I guess—has changed. He’s just… he’s just looking for something familiar. Something comfortable. I’m not it.”


    Laz didn’t let up, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in feigned disbelief. “He’s a lot of things, you’re right about that, but subtle isn’t one of them—trust me. He’s going to make a great king one day for it, Mira. He doesn’t let rule books and swinging ideologies get his way. Politics come second to the people he cares for. The fact that you’re the queen isn’t what has him hiding. He’s scared because you could break his heart again. Don’t forget that.”


    “Break his heart again?” she asked, raising a curious brow.


    “I heard he proposed to you,” Laz said sheepishly.


    Her lips parted, and she groaned, twisting away in frustration. “Oh, no. Are you serious? It was an impulsive offer! He was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight!”


    “You know with the Legacy, he can make himself sober on command, right?” Laz asked, watching her deflate in frustration.


    “What?”


    “He has absolute control. It’s a defense mechanism. Makes it hard to be poisoned or killed with magic. You didn’t know that?”


    “No.”


    A smile slid along his features. “Oh, so you really thought he wasn’t serious…”


    “No…” Mira turned, staring down the road. It had never occurred to her that Haros had the capacity to be serious. Ever since taking on the Legacy, sobriety was elusive, and before then, he’d taken more to the pleasure of life than to responsibilities.


    As they walked in silence, Mira couldn’t help but wonder even more about what everyone else deemed obvious. Could it really be that simple? Could Haros truly feel something for her beyond their bond?