The path through the Academy's central courtyard was lined with marbled statues of past heroes—mages in grand robes, warriors frozen mid-swing, kings and queens with solemn gazes locked in stone.
Selene Virellia walked beneath their silent judgment with her chin high.
She was every inch the noblewoman—tall, elegant, dressed in the Academy's violet and silver uniform tailored to perfection. Her snow-white cloak shimmered with magical threads, and her long platinum-blonde hair flowed behind her like moonlight. People stepped aside when she passed.
Not because she asked them to.
But because she was Selene—the Duke's daughter, and the Crown Prince's fiancée.
Whispers followed her like perfume.
"She's so stunning..."
"Did you hear she rejected five proposals before entering?"
"No wonder the prince hasn't cast her aside..."
But Selene wasn't flattered. Not today.
Her emerald eyes were sharp with irritation as she followed Lucien Thorne through a quiet corridor behind the central tower. His stride was long, confident. He didn't look back once.
She hated that he could ignore her this easily.
When they reached a secluded archway, she finally spoke.
"So... you're just going to click your tongue and walk away now?"
Lucien stopped.
He turned slowly, his cool blue eyes unreadable beneath a fringe of silver hair that caught the light like moon-kissed steel. Tall, striking, with the elegance of royalty and the bearing of someone raised above others, Lucien looked like the kind of prince bards sang about.
But Selene knew better.
"What do you want me to say, Selene?" he asked, voice calm but edged. "That I missed you? That I can't wait to be your loving fiancé in front of the court?"
"I want you to stop pretending this whole farce doesn't annoy you."
Lucien let out a slow breath and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"Of course it annoys me. That's why I'm not pretending otherwise."
Selene folded her arms as well, mirroring him.
"You don't like it. I don't like it. But we both know what's expected of us."
He nodded. "Public perfection."
"Private freedom."
A silence stretched between them.
They had spoken these words before—many times. In letters, behind palace walls, during carefully staged social events.
Lucien, the golden prodigy of the Empire. The youngest high-tier mage in centuries.
Selene, the dazzling daughter of House Virellia. Cold, intelligent, untouchable.
Together, they were the Crown's golden pair. Admired. Envied.
And utterly uninterested in each other.
Lucien finally said, "Let's keep playing the part. I'll smile when needed. Escort you at events. Say the right words."
"And I'll pretend I'm the luckiest woman alive to be engaged to a prince."
They both smirked—wry, hollow smiles.
"But beyond that," she added, her voice dropping, "I want my space, Lucien. Don't interfere with my personal life. I'll do the same."
Lucien nodded. "Deal."
Selene turned away, her eyes distant for a moment.
"I hate this cage," she muttered.
"You're the one who sharpened its bars," Lucien said quietly. "You knew what it meant when your father pushed for the engagement."
"I know." Her voice was quieter now. "I just... thought I could still breathe through it."
Lucien didn't reply.
Instead, they stood there for a moment longer—two nobles trapped in their golden roles, bound not by affection, but by necessity.
Finally, Selene exhaled, straightened her posture, and walked past him.
"I'll see you tomorrow at the orientation," she said without looking back.
Lucien watched her go. Not with longing. Not with hate. Just with the cool detachment of someone used to acting a part.
Then he turned, walked the opposite way—back toward the dormitories.
Neither of them noticed the quiet figure perched in the shadows atop the outer balcony above them, black eyes unreadable.
Kael had found the high spot earlier while surveying the Academy grounds.
He hadn't meant to listen.
But the wind had carried voices.
And now he knew one more piece of the game he'd been thrown into.
Not that it mattered.
He didn't care about nobles or politics.
But he remembered Selene's name.
And now, he knew her face.