[POV Leah]

Time is a strange creature—one that slips through your fingers as easily as spring water. When I was locked away in that stone cell in the demon camps, every second dripped like poison, stretching into infinity in an agony of silence and shadow. But here, within the walls of the Royal Academy of Whirikal, the days have flown by with a lightness that sometimes frightens me.

Three years have passed.

Three years since I crossed those wrought-iron gates with my heart pounding in fear and hope. Three years since Lotte humiliated Valen in the combat arena, and I showed that the fire of the Whirikal bloodline is no mere legend. Now, at nineteen years old, I stand on the balcony of our suite on the fourth floor of the North Wing, gazing at the landscape below, barely able to recognize the timid, wounded girl who returned from the forests so long ago.

Only two years remain until graduation. Two years before I cease to be simply “student Leah” and formally become the heir my father needs to secure the kingdom’s future. But much has changed in that time—not only in my magic, but in the very structure of our daily reality.

“Princess, the tea is getting cold. And Chloé has already eaten half the honey biscuits while you stood there staring at the horizon like you’re waiting for a ship in the middle of the mountains.”

Lotte’s voice came from inside the room, pulling me out of my thoughts with that familiar warmth.

I turned my head and saw her. Lotte was sitting at the study table, illuminated by the light pouring in through the large window. If she had been beautiful before, now she was… hypnotic. Her green hair—the deep emerald of Lyre’s oldest forests—had grown long, falling in soft waves that contrasted almost unnaturally with her pale skin. Her blue eyes, as intense as the sky after a storm, shone with sharp intelligence as she reviewed scrolls on elemental theory.

Lotte has grown more than any of us. Her presence radiates a calm that seems to hold the entire room together. Sometimes I forget she is my guardian and simply lose myself watching how she has blossomed over these three years. She looks happier, more grounded, as if she has finally found a home in this land.

“I’m coming, Lotte. I was just thinking about how much the Academy has changed since we arrived,” I replied, stepping inside and closing the balcony doors.

Chloé—now a young woman of terrifying agility, her white tail swaying lazily over the sofa—looked at me with a biscuit still in her mouth. Her wolf ears twitched in contentment.

“What’s changed is that we don’t have to kick people’s asses every five minutes to earn respect anymore,” Chloé said after swallowing. “The nobles finally learned that lineage means nothing if you can’t keep up with your magic.”

She was right. The Academy today is not the same as it was three years ago. We achieved what once seemed impossible: changing the aristocracy’s perspective. They no longer see us as “the princess and her strange companions.” Now, those who once harassed us fight for a single moment of our attention. Heirs of the most influential houses court our favor with gifts, dance invitations, and promises of future loyalty. They have realized that true power lies in technique and will.

Of course, the process was aided by my father’s iron hand. Over these three years, King William’s investigations into corrupt families bore fruit. Many of the students who once made our lives miserable—Valen and his clique among them—were forced to leave the Academy in disgrace. Their parents were exposed for embezzlement, illicit dealings, or conspiracies against the crown. The palace and the Academy were purged of rotten branches, leaving behind a more manageable—if somewhat more hypocritical—environment.

“What are you thinking about so deeply, Leah? You’ve been stirring your tea but haven’t taken a single sip,” Lotte asked suddenly.

Her blue eyes met mine directly, carrying a depth that sometimes makes me feel like she can see every one of my nerves. Lotte hasn’t told me much about what she saw in that dream three years ago, and I’ve never pressed her—but I know she carries secrets that weigh heavily on her soul.

“That you’re too popular, Lotte,” I said, trying to sound playful, though I felt that familiar pinch in my chest. “I saw that fourth-year student today—the Marquis of Oriz’s son—trying to talk to you in the library. He looked very… interested in your opinion on ice magic.”

Lotte sighed, leaning back in her chair and brushing aside a strand of her green hair. “He just wanted me to explain a formula. A bit slow-minded, but persistent.”

“Persistent is a kind way to put it,” I muttered.

Here is my secret. Lotte is my guardian, my best friend, my family. But every time I see her talking to other students—boys or girls—I feel something strange. A tightness in my stomach that makes me want to intervene, to pull her away, to remind everyone that she belongs with me… or rather, that her place is by my side. I don’t understand why I feel this way. I should be happy that she’s so sociable and well-liked. But it’s hard to breathe when she gives someone else one of those smiles that I thought were just for us. I try to hide it, to act like the mature princess I’m supposed to be—but Chloé always notices.

“Does it bother you when I talk to others?” Lotte asked, her honesty disarming me.

My cheeks burned. “No! Of course not! You’re free to have friends, Lotte. I just… make sure they don’t distract you. We have important exams next week.”

Chloé burst out laughing from the sofa. “Leah, you reek of jealousy from here to the main dining hall. Your ears turn red—it’s hilarious.”

“Chloé, shut up!” I exclaimed, throwing a cushion at her. She dodged it with feline grace.

Lotte laughed softly, the sound like a cool breeze calming my nerves. “Relax, Leah. No one is taking me away from your side. My promise to protect you is still the most important thing to me. Always will be.”

I was about to reply—perhaps to admit how foolishly possessive I was—when a rhythmic, urgent knock sounded at the door. Chloé immediately went on alert, setting the biscuits aside.

“Come in,” I said, regaining my royal composure.

One of the King’s personal attendants entered, carrying a silver tray. Upon it rested a sealed envelope bearing my father’s red wax sigil: the lion of Whirikal. My heart skipped a beat. My father rarely sent physical letters to the Academy unless the matter was something that could not be entrusted to ordinary channels.

“An urgent letter from His Majesty, Princess,” the servant said, bowing deeply before retreating quickly, as if the parchment itself burned.

I took the envelope. My hands trembled slightly. Lotte rose and stood behind me, her presence anchoring me. I broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.

As my eyes moved over the lines written in my father’s hurried, tense handwriting, the room seemed to shrink. My expression shifted—from curiosity, to surprise, and from surprise to a heavy, somber shadow.

“What is it, Leah? You’ve gone pale,” Lotte asked, her voice sharpening into that professional tone, her blue eyes fixed on the letter.

I read it once more in silence before speaking.

“It’s the Church of Gaia…” I murmured, my voice sounding strange even to myself. “Father says they’ve issued an official declaration. They’ve ‘discovered’ something, Lotte. He doesn’t specify what, but the High Priest Silas is showing a confidence that borders on insolence. They’ve begun openly challenging royal edicts on magical research and are mobilizing their followers in the public squares.”

Chloé stepped closer, sniffing the air. “The Church? I thought they’d calmed down after the King shut down the quarry.”

“They’re not calm. They’re emboldened,” I said, looking at Lotte. “The letter says they’ve found something that gives them an authority they believe surpasses the throne. They’re making aggressive political moves to seize control over the kingdom’s laws.”

Lotte went still, staring toward the horizon. For a brief moment, her blue eyes shone with a cold intensity, as if she were processing information only she possessed. She knew things we did not—I felt it deep inside. She knew about the goddesses, about the game being played with us, yet she chose silence to spare us fear.

“At last,” I said, letting the letter fall onto the table, my expression dark. “After three years of whispers in the shadows, the Church of Gaia is finally making its move. They’ve found a weapon—or a truth—and believe it can bend Whirikal to its knees.”

Lotte placed a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was firm—a silent promise that no matter what the Church had found, she would be there.

“Let them move,” Lotte said, her voice carrying a glacial cadence that sent a chill through me. “If they think a few white robes can challenge the fate of this kingdom, then they have no idea who is protecting this land.”

I looked at my friend, my guardian, and felt the Academy’s fragile bubble of peace shatter completely. The board was shifting, and the Church was only the first piece in a war we were just beginning to glimpse.

“Prepare yourselves,” I ordered, looking at Chloé and Lotte. “Peace is over. It’s time to show them that the throne bows to no one.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep