They walked into the classroom together, still mid-argument. The first face Cane clocked belonged to Vincent, already seated near the front, looking every bit the stoic hero. Beside him sat someone new. Her hair was the colour of pale gold, spun into an elaborate style too formal for a regular class day. Her eyes, the same warm, gilded shade, were fixed on Vincent with an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration. It was the kind of look you saw in illustrated children’s books about knights and princesses.
Cane didn’t need his borrowed memories to place her. The regal bearing, the flawless posture, the sheer expense of her perfectly tailored uniform—it all screamed royalty. Princess Seraphina Bellona, heir to the throne, slumming it at Hale Academy for reasons only kings and novelists understood.
She was watching Vincent like he’d stepped right out of one of those fairytales she was clearly raised on, a walking cliché of knightly virtue that must have seemed incredibly rare to her sheltered eyes.
He glanced sideways at Aria, half-expecting to see a flicker of jealousy.
He found none.
If anything, her attention was still on him, a thoughtful, calculating look that had less to do with their banter and more to do with the ongoing project of figuring him out. He couldn’t tell if it was interest in him or just fascination with the mystery he presented. Either way, attention was attention.
They headed down the tiered steps toward a pair of open seats. Vincent turned at the sound of their approach, his expression darkening for a split second before smoothing over into something polite and diplomatic.
"Valerian." He nodded stiffly, clearly assuming Cane was just dropping Aria off. "Thanks for walking her to class." He reached out, his hand open, ready to take over, to guide Aria to her seat himself as if she were his property.
Cane didn’t let go.
Instead, his hand shot ofut and grabbed Aria’s hip, a firm, deliberate grip that pulled her a half-step closer, tucking her into his side.
It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it wasn’t friendly either. It was an ambiguous, possessive gesture, and it was exactly as provocative as he intended.
Vincent’s eyes went ice-cold.
A crushing pressure slammed into Cane, a physical weight of pure, condensed mana that made the air thick and hard to breathe.
It buckled his knees, a raw display of power that made the gap between a Rank 2 prodigy and a LVL 4 scumbag painfully, brutally clear. He couldn’t have moved if he wanted to. He couldn’t do a single goddamn thing about it.
He tightened his grip on Aria’s hip anyway, letting his fingers wander. He already knew exactly what would happen next.
Aria didn’t disappoint.
She rounded on Vincent, her voice a whip-crack in the suddenly silent classroom. "Stop it."
Vincent stammered, his focus broken. "But he—he just grabbed you—"
"So what?" she cut him off, her voice ringing with indignation. "Cane is my friend. And even if he touched me somewhere he shouldn’t have, it would be my place to handle it, not yours."
The hero looked genuinely stunned, his mouth working but no sound coming out. The suffocating pressure vanished as quickly as it had arrived.
It wasn’t Vincent who filled the silence.
It was the princess.
Seraphina moved with a fluid grace, placing a comforting hand on Vincent’s arm. She murmured something soft and reassuring to him before turning a cold, assessing glare on Cane.
Her loyalty, it seemed, was absolute.
Dislike Vincent, and you automatically made her shit-list.
Cane just shrugged and slid into his seat. Aria dropped into the chair beside him without a moment’s hesitation. As she settled in, the motion made her uniform skirt ride up. Her thighs, pale and soft, shifted and spread slightly with the change in posture, the fabric of her skirt pulling taut.
He leaned over, his mouth close to her ear, and murmured, "An excellent view. Truly."
He braced for a slap, or at least a sharp rebuke. Instead, she just laughed, a low, breathy sound. She waved a dismissive hand at him, as if he’d just told a particularly dumb joke rather than propositioned her.
Somewhere between the courtyard and this classroom, she had apparently decided his crude commentary was more performance than threat.
Either that, or she genuinely didn’t mind.
He wasn’t sure which, and as he settled back in his chair, he decided he didn’t need to be. Who cares what she thinks, she’s letting me flirt with her blatantly. That quest is looking like its going to be a breeze.
When class let out, Vincent lingered by the door. He glanced back at Aria, his expression a mix of apology and hope, like he wanted to ask her to walk with him and the princess. He must have seen the set of her jaw, because he visibly decided against it, turning and leaving with Seraphina instead.
Cane and Aria headed out together. Once they were clear of the thinning crowd and genuinely alone in the wide corridor, he decided to cut through the bullshit.
"What’s the actual deal with you and Vinny?" he asked, his tone casual. "I’ll admit, I assumed you two were... closer. Given how he talks about you."
Aria didn’t blush. She didn’t stammer. She just answered, her voice plain and direct. "I think of Vincent the way I’d think of a brother. I know he wants more than that. I don’t."
Her expression shifted, the corner of her mouth lifting into a sly, mischievous smile.
"That’s exactly why I let you grab my hip like you owned me back there." The teasing note was back in her voice, a low, playful hum. "Though you’d better not try it again. And you definitely shouldn’t let your fingers wander any further toward actual skin the way they were starting to."
He coughed, a rough, startled sound. He hadn’t thought she’d noticed that particular detail, the slight, questing movement of his fingertips. "Sorry, I didn’t know your fat butt was off limits."
She just rolled her eyes at him.
Then, shifting the topic with an easy grace, she asked, "What do you make of the princess?"
He didn’t hesitate. "The Princess?"
"Yes, her. I’m quite curious, actually. Vinny is still my childhood friend after all, so I want to know who’s around him."
With a smile, Cane said, "I think she’s a lot more calculating than that sheltered-storybook act lets on."
Aria’s smile turned knowing, a silent, perfect echo of his own assessment.
"I agree."