InkHeartThe trick was to study the floor. The polished stones of the hall were a varied landscape of gray, and if I mapped my path through them, I could almost believe I wasn’t here. Head down, a ghost in borrowed boots, clutching a lukewarm coffee like a shield.
I rounded a corner and the world became a wall of muscle and heat. The impact sent my coffee sloshing, a hot, bitter wave across the front of a black uniform. My cup clattered away, and my head snapped up on instinct.
The silver-threaded crest of the royal family was stitched over the man’s heart, now marred by a spreading brown stain. My eyes traveled up a hard jawline to a pair of eyes the color of winter ice. They held a disgust so pure it was a physical force.
Prince Ronin.
“Are you blind?” His voice was a low rumble, devoid of heat, which was somehow worse.
My own voice was a knot in my throat. I could only stare at the damage I’d done. “I—I’m sorry.” The words were tissue paper against the granite of his presence.
His lip curled. “'Sorry' doesn’t launder custom tailoring, stray.” He didn’t even glance at the stain. His focus was entirely on me, a dissecting gaze that found every frayed cuff and worn seam of my existence.
“I can pay for it,” I offered, the lie tasting like ash in my mouth. The cost of that uniform could feed my old pack for a year.
A harsh, grating sound might have been a laugh. “With what? The lint in your pockets?”
Whispers started around us as students paused, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding spectacle. They could smell my fear.
“Ronin, let it go.” A new voice, calm and warm, cut through the tension. Another man stepped forward, clapping a hand on the Prince’s shoulder. He had kind, brown eyes and an easy posture that seemed alien in this place. “You have a dozen others.”
Ronin shrugged off the hand, his glare never leaving my face. “It’s the principle, Darius. You let vermin scurry underfoot, they forget their place.”
Darius ignored him and knelt, his movements fluid as he gathered my scattered books. The simple kindness was so jarring I flinched. He rose and handed them to me, his expression one of genuine concern. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, my fingers brushing his. A jolt of simple warmth, unexpected.
Ronin scoffed. “See? It probably enjoyed the attention.”
Darius turned to his friend, his tone losing some of its lightness. “Go change. You’ll be late for the council.”
“Don’t give me orders,” Ronin snapped, but the venom was now aimed at Darius. He gave me one last, lingering look of pure contempt—a silent promise—then turned on his heel. The crowd melted away from his path.
I was left trembling, clutching the books to my chest. Darius offered a small, apologetic smile. “He’s… well, he’s Ronin.”
“I have to go,” I mumbled, desperate for an escape.
“I’m Darius,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious. I hesitated before taking his offered hand. His grip was firm. “Aria.”
“Try not to let him get to you, Aria,” he said, then turned to follow his prince.
I bent to retrieve my crushed paper cup, my hands still shaking, when a voice like cool silk slid behind me.
“Well, well. Making friends in high places, charity case?”
I straightened slowly to face Camille. She leaned against a stone pillar, flanked by her silent shadow, Brina. A perfectly sculpted eyebrow was arched in amusement.
“I wasn’t,” I said, my voice flat.
“It looked like it,” she purred, pushing off the wall. She circled me, her violet eyes cataloging my secondhand clothes. “You splash the Prince, and his First Knight rushes to your aid like a storybook princess.”
Brina snorted. “More like a stray mutt.”
Camille’s focus remained on me. “You need to understand something. Darius has a weakness for pathetic things. It’s a flaw. Don’t mistake his pity for interest.” She stopped directly in front of me, her expensive floral scent cloying. “And Ronin… you are an inconvenience he stepped in. Nothing more.”
“I get it,” I snapped, my patience finally fraying.
Her lips curved into a smile that held no warmth. “Good. Because if I ever see you looking at Darius like that again, I will personally remind you of your place.” She held my gaze for a long, chilling moment. “You tried so hard to be invisible. A shame to get noticed for all the wrong reasons.”
She turned and walked away, her hips swaying, Brina trailing in her wake. I was alone again, the echoes of her threat chilling the air.
Head down. Eyes down.
It was too late for that.