That moment.... That terrifying, beautiful, impossible moment when her name was called and the entire world turned toward her like it was waiting to see if she'd fly or shatter.
Kaelith had climbed the steps with measured grace, smile perfectly angled, heartbeat trying to punch a hole through her ribs.
It wasn't her first public speech. Not really. She'd addressed smaller audiences before. Royal dinners. Trade conferences.
The occasional rebel envoy gathering where she'd been wheeled out as the "symbol of peace" to stand and smile like she wasn't internally calculating the fastest escape route.
But this?
This was different.
These weren't nobles, soldiers, or sycophants. These were students. Her peers. The ones who would judge not her bloodline, but her every move.
Her voice had started soft. She spoke of unity. Of future. Of rebuilding trust. The same diplomatic poetry she'd practiced for years, tailored with just enough rawness to feel personal.
But the whole time… she was scanning the crowd.
Row after row of new faces. Curiosity. Suspicion. Awe. A few expressions she couldn't read—blank, shuttered, waiting. It was like trying to breathe in a room full of fireflies: beautiful, but suffocating if you let it.
And then she found her.
Tucked in the shadows beneath the colonnade, almost too far to see.
Imeena.
Of course, she looked like a storm barely holding itself back. Arms crossed, body still, eyes locked on everything but Kaelith.
Her uniform looked like it had survived a battlefield and won. No insignia, no softness. A living contradiction to everything pristine around her.
But just seeing her made Kaelith's chest loosen.
Her hands stopped trembling,her pulse slowed, her heart quieted.
She wasn't even looking at her. But it didn't matter.
Kaelith could stand there, in front of hundreds of strangers, and breathe—because somewhere in that sea of uncertainty, someone knew her. Even if that someone barely tolerated her existence.
She smiled, even though Imeena looked away. It still meant something, it meant she could get through this.
Now, the speech was done. The applause had faded. And Kaelith found herself walking the stone paths of the Academy grounds, heading toward her first class of the year.
The magical sorting had finished quickly—name, magical type, specialty alignment, housing affinity—and Kaelith had been placed in Class Aether-2.
Naturally, Imeena had been assigned to the same class. Not a surprise but not a comfort either.
Not when Kaelith realized she didn't know anyone else.
All around her, the other students were breaking off into groups: pairs and trios forming like puzzle pieces that already fit.
There were elves with moon-pale braids exchanging inside jokes. A trio of witches from the Shimmering Isles discussing alchemy professors.
A boy from the Lightning Ridge was arm-wrestling a war-mage and laughing like they'd done this every year.
Kaelith walked in silence.
She smiled. Nodded. Made herself visible.
But no one came over.
She glanced to her side—Imeena.
Still walking. Still silent.
Not even pretending to offer conversation.
Of course she wouldn't.
Still, Kaelith whispered a half-joke toward her. "Think they'd notice if I conjured a banner that said 'Talk to me, I don't bite'?"
Imeena didn't answer.
They reached the entrance of their classroom building. Spires curved above it like woven marble branches, casting soft shade. Vines of bioluminescent moss crept along the arch, pulsing faintly with ambient magic.
The hall inside was beautiful. Open. Columns of enchanted crystal lined the walkway. Floating lights flickered above, adjusting their color to the mood of the space.
The classroom itself labeled Aether-2 in shimmering script that was wide, elegant, and already buzzing with conversation.
Kaelith stepped in.
Immediately, students looked up.
A few smiled. A few nodded. Most just watched.
They already know who I am, she thought.
She scanned the room for a seat and out of instinct, looked to Imeena.
Imeena was already gone.
Kaelith blinked.
The woman had moved so quickly, so silently, she'd barely registered it. Imeena now stood on the far side of the room, by a window, settling into a chair with her back against the wall, eyes already angled toward the door like she expected an ambush.
Oh.
Kaelith hovered by the entrance a moment longer than necessary.
She hadn't expected Imeena to be friendly, but she had assumed they'd sit together. Not because she wanted special treatment. Just because…
Because sitting alone felt like something she was supposed to have outgrown.
Someone tapped her shoulder.
She turned.
A girl with sun-brown skin, short curly hair, and golden spectacles smiled at her.
"Hi! Um. You're Kaelith, right? Princess Kaelith?"
Kaelith blinked. "Yes?"
"I'm Soraya. I read your peace address last year—it was amazing. Sorry, that's weird to say. I just wanted to say hi."
Kaelith smiled gently. "Not weird at all. Thank you."
Another student approached—a tall boy with sea-green eyes and lightning tattoos flickering along his neck. "I liked your entrance. Confident. You didn't even flinch under the amplification orb."
"I practiced," Kaelith said, chuckling.
They asked a few more questions—about her homeland, her magic, whether the rumors about her using flame to melt a diplomatic seal mid-negotiation were true (they were, but she didn't confirm that).
She answered with grace.
With control.
With charm.
But her eyes drifted, again and again, to the corner seat where Imeena sat.
Unmoving. Unbothered. Unreachable.
She hadn't even looked at Kaelith since they entered the room.
Kaelith bit the inside of her cheek, then turned back to her growing crowd of new classmates. She would make friends. She would learn. She would earn her place here.
Even if the one person who made her heart slow down… refused to even share a desk.
The air shifted as soon as the door creaked open.
Kaelith turned her head, falling silent with the others as a tall, sharp-featured woman in robes the color of storm clouds stepped into the room.
Her boots clicked with precision. A staff etched in starlight runes rested against one shoulder, and her eyes, pale silver, nearly white swept across the room with the weight of someone who had seen things and had no time for nonsense.
"Seats. Now," she said, voice calm and absolute.
Students scrambled. The soft rustle of fabric, the clatter of chair legs, the shuffling of nerves.
Kaelith slipped into the nearest seat still free near the center and crossed one leg over the other, trying to look composed, even as her pulse picked up again.
She didn't dare look back at Imeena.
Not yet.
The teacher moved to the front, letting silence settle.
"I am Professor Velren," she said. "If you expect this year to be easy, leave now. If you think bloodline, rank, or charm will save you, leave faster."
Kaelith's fingers tensed slightly against her thigh.
So it begins, she thought.