Astrid
Selene crouched down before I could even get my bearings, her movements graceful in a way that felt rehearsed, picking up one of my fallen books like she was doing me a favor.
Somewhere behind her, whispers had already started.
"That’s Selene."
"The future Luna."
"Didn’t she make a girl transfer last year?"
"No, I heard the girl just disappeared."
I didn’t know which version was true, and something about not knowing made my stomach tighten more than either answer would have on its own. Selene didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care. She placed the book in my hands with the same careful gentleness she might have shown a dog she wasn’t sure wouldn’t bite.
"Moonshade Academy has rules," she said quietly, close enough that only I could hear it. "Learn your place before someone teaches it to you."
Her smile never wavered.
Before I could think of a response worth having, the hallway shifted.
Students moved aside without being asked, clearing a path like the air itself had rearranged. Reed and Xander walked through the middle of it, neither one glancing at Selene, neither one acknowledging me. They just kept walking, unhurried, toward the cafeteria, and the hallway seemed to hold its breath until they’d passed.
I watched Selene’s eyes track Reed the entire way. Her jaw tightened, just barely, her teeth catching her lower lip for half a second before she caught herself.
Then she turned back to me, all composure again.
"That’ll be all," she said, and walked off with her friends trailing behind her like she’d never crouched down at all.
Ivy let out a breath so loud it was almost a wheeze. "I genuinely thought she was going to kill you."
"So did I," I said, and for a second, despite everything, we both almost laughed.
By the time we made it to the cafeteria my stomach was audibly protesting, and the noise and smell of actual food hit me hard enough that I nearly forgot the last five minutes entirely. We grabbed trays, filled them with whatever looked edible, and scanned the room for anywhere to sit.
Two seats opened up near the windows. We headed straight for them.
A boy slid his tray onto both chairs half a second before we arrived.
"Sorry," he said, in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t.
We tried another table. Same thing. A girl set her bag down across the last open seat and didn’t even bother looking up. A third table, and someone’s jacket somehow ended up draped over both chairs before we’d taken two steps toward it.
I got it, eventually. Nobody wanted to be seen sitting next to the scholarship girl who’d insulted the princes on day one. Or maybe nobody wanted Selene noticing them being kind to me. Either way, the message was clear, delivered without a single word actually spoken. A boy at the next table caught my eye for half a second, something almost apologetic in his face, before he quickly looked back down at his tray like he hadn’t seen me at all.
Seriously? I thought, gripping my tray a little tighter. It’s a chair. Not a blood oath.
Ivy turned in a slow circle, scanning the room, and her shoulders sagged. "There’s only one table left."
I followed her gaze and my stomach dropped for an entirely different reason.
Reed. Xander. Two empty seats across from them.
"No," I said immediately.
"I don’t think we have a choice," Ivy whispered, already glancing at the trays balanced in our hands and the growling protest of her own stomach.
I sighed, long and defeated. "I hate this school already."
But my legs were already moving, because I hadn’t eaten anything since the train, and pride had never once put food in my stomach.
The cafeteria noise dropped as we crossed the room, conversations trailing off table by table like a wave rolling toward the far wall. By the time we reached the twins’ table, half the room had gone quiet enough to hear the scrape of my chair against the floor.
"She’s doing it again," someone whispered.
"She’s insane."
"Has she learned nothing?"
I pulled out the chair anyway and sat down. Ivy dropped into the seat beside me a heartbeat later, stiff as a board.
Xander raised an eyebrow, setting down his fork. "What exactly do you think you’re doing?"
I unwrapped my cutlery, calm as I could manage with half the cafeteria staring holes into the back of my head. "Eating lunch."
"...Here?"
"I looked around." I gestured vaguely at the packed room behind me without turning to look at it. "Unless you know of another invisible table somewhere, then yes. Here."
Xander blinked, clearly not expecting that, and then he laughed, a real laugh, loud enough that a few heads at nearby tables turned toward the sound.
Reed didn’t laugh. He watched me instead, silent, his expression unreadable in the way it had been in the classroom earlier, like he was still working through some equation I hadn’t given him all the numbers for. It wasn’t annoyance. I would have understood annoyance. This was something closer to interest, and it unsettled me more than open hostility would have.
I focused on my food instead of looking at him, cutting into whatever was on my plate with more force than necessary.
"You know," Xander said after a moment, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head, "most people spend their first week here trying very hard to stay out of trouble."
"I’m trying," I said without looking up.
"Clearly."
Reed spoke for the first time since I’d sat down, his voice low, even. "You’re failing."
I set my fork down and looked at him properly, meeting that unreadable gaze head on for the first time since the classroom. "I’ve noticed."
Something flickered across his face, gone before I could name it. Not quite a smile. Something adjacent to one, like his mouth had considered the shape and decided against it at the last second.
Xander glanced between the two of us like he was watching a tennis match he hadn’t expected to be interesting. "Well," he said, grinning wide, "this is going to be a fun year."
I didn’t answer. I picked my fork back up and kept eating, ignoring the weight of eyes still watching from every corner of the cafeteria, ignoring the low hum of whispers that hadn’t fully died down.
Ivy leaned in close, voice barely above a breath. "You’re either the bravest person I’ve ever met, or completely out of your mind."
"Probably both," I muttered.
Across the table, Reed hadn’t looked away yet.
I decided not to look back, and instead focused on finishing what was left on my plate, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that lunch had somehow become the most exhausting part of my entire day. Around us, the cafeteria slowly returned to its usual noise, conversations picking back up, trays clattering, laughter rising in scattered pockets across the room. Nobody approached our table. Nobody dared to. And underneath the relief of finally eating something, I understood exactly what this meant.
I hadn’t just insulted the princes on my first day.
I’d apparently just claimed a seat beside them, whether I meant to or not, and there was no version of this school where that went unnoticed.