InkHeartAria.
I keep my eyes on the floor. It’s the only way to survive. The polished stones of the hallway are a map of grays and blacks, and if I just focus on them, I can pretend I’m invisible.
I’m clutching a lukewarm cup of coffee from the dining hall’s machine. It’s bitter, probably burnt, but it’s something warm to hold onto. A small anchor in this ocean of predators.
Head down. Eyes down. Don’t draw attention.
I repeat the mantra in my head as I round a corner, my worn boots silent on the stone.
Then I hit a wall. A wall of muscle and heat that smells like pine after a lightning strike and something else, something impossibly regal. The coffee sloshes, a hot, dark wave splashing against expensive black fabric.
My cup clatters to the floor, rolling away. My books scatter. My head snaps up.
I’m looking at the crest of the royal family, embroidered in silver thread on the chest of a perfectly tailored uniform. My eyes travel higher, past a strong jaw, to a pair of eyes the color of a frozen lake. They are filled with a disgust so profound it feels like a physical blow.
Prince Ronin.
“Do you have a death wish?” His voice is low, a silken rumble that makes the fine hairs on my arms stand up. It’s not a question. It’s an accusation.
I can’t find my voice. My throat has closed up. I just stare at the ugly brown stain blooming across his chest.
“I… I’m so sorry,” I finally choke out. The words are pathetic, flimsy things against the sheer force of his presence.
His lip curls into a sneer. “Sorry doesn’t clean a custom-tailored uniform, does it, stray?”
He doesn’t even look at the stain. His gaze is locked on me, dissecting me, finding every flaw and weakness. And there are so many to find.
“I’ll… I can pay for it,” I offer, knowing how ridiculous it sounds. The cost of that uniform could probably fund my old pack for a year.
A harsh laugh escapes him. It’s a cold, sharp sound. “With what? The dirt on your shoes?”
Students are stopping in the hall now. They form a silent circle around us, watching the unfolding spectacle. They smell my fear. It’s like blood in the water.
“Ronin, leave her alone.”
The new voice is calm and warm, cutting through the tension. Another young man steps forward, his presence just as powerful as Ronin’s, but without the suffocating cruelty. He has warm brown eyes and a smile that seems genuine. He claps a hand on the Prince’s shoulder.
“It’s just a coffee stain,” he says lightly. “You have a hundred others.”
Ronin shrugs off his hand, his glare never leaving my face. “It’s the principle of the thing, Darius. Vermin shouldn’t be allowed to scurry around where they might get underfoot.”
Darius ignores him and kneels, gathering my fallen books. The simple act of kindness is so unexpected that I flinch.
“Here you go,” he says, his voice soft as he hands them to me. He’s looking at me, really looking, not through me like everyone else.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my fingers brushing his as I take the books. A tiny spark zings up my arm.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his brow furrowed with concern.
I nod, unable to speak. I’m acutely aware of Ronin watching us, his silence more threatening than his words.
“Of course she’s okay,” Ronin scoffs. “She probably enjoyed the attention.”
Darius stands and turns to face his friend. “Go change your shirt. You’re going to be late for council.”
“Don’t give me orders,” Ronin snaps, but the venom in his tone is directed at Darius now, not me.
He gives me one last, lingering look of pure contempt. It’s a promise of future torment. Then he turns on his heel and stalks down the hallway, the crowd parting before him like he’s a god.
I’m left standing there, trembling, clutching my books to my chest. Darius gives me a small, apologetic smile.
“Don’t mind him,” he says. “His bark is worse than his bite.”
I highly doubt that. I feel like I’ve just been bitten.
“I should go,” I mumble, desperate to escape, to find a dark corner to disappear into.
“I’m Darius, by the way,” he says, holding out his hand.
I hesitate before shaking it. His grip is warm and firm. “Aria.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Aria. Try not to let him get to you,” he says again, before turning to follow his prince.
I watch him go, a strange, fluttery feeling in my chest. A crush. How stupid. How dangerous.
I finally bend to pick up my empty coffee cup, my hands still shaking.
“Well, well. Look at the little charity case, making friends in high places.”
The voice is like poisoned honey. I straighten up slowly and turn to face Camille. She’s leaning against the wall, Brina at her side as always, a perfectly manicured eyebrow arched in amusement.
She saw everything.
“I wasn’t making friends,” I say, my voice flat.
“Oh? It looked like it,” she purrs, stepping closer. She circles me, her violet eyes raking over my cheap clothes and worn boots. “First you spill coffee on the Prince, then you have his best friend helping you like a damsel in distress.”
Brina snorts. “More like a dog in distress.”
Camille ignores her lackey, her focus entirely on me. “You need to understand something, stray. These are not your kind of people. They are not your friends.”
“I know that,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Do you?” She stops directly in front of me, her scent of roses and power trying to smother me. “Darius has a soft spot for pathetic things. It’s a weakness of his. But don’t mistake it for interest.”
Her eyes narrow. “And Ronin… you are nothing to him. Less than nothing. An inconvenience he stepped in on his way to class.”
“I get it,” I snap, my patience finally breaking. “I’m trash. You’ve all made that very clear.”
Her perfectly painted lips curve into a slow, cruel smile. “I’m so glad we understand each other. Because if you ever forget it again, if I ever see you looking at Darius like that again… I will personally remind you of your place.”
She holds my gaze for a long, terrifying moment.
“And trust me,” she adds, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You are so far out of your depth here, you’ve already drowned.”
She turns and walks away, her hips swaying, Brina trailing in her wake like a hyena. I’m left alone in the hallway, the echo of her warning ringing in my ears.
Head down. Eyes down. Don’t draw attention.
It’s too late for that now.