Settling In

The dormitory's lobby has a cozy vibe, complete with a fridge, a few sofas, and a conspicuously expensive decorative vase tucked in the corner. Right now, it's deserted. I take a left down the corridor, walking past another lounge fitted with a plasma TV and plush armchairs.

An attractive girl and a dark-haired guy are standing by the window. He's got broad shoulders and carries himself with a cocky swagger. They're whispering and almost hugging but hesitate, casting a wary glance at the overhead security camera. The girl notices me and her eyes widen.

"It's him! Him!" she whispers.

"Who?" The guy reluctantly tears his eyes from her swan-like neck.

"Eugene, that's the guy who beat you in the Games at middle school. He beat everyone! Even Princess Barrow!"

Great, Arthur the Imp is also popular here.

The guy purses his lips. Looks like I've put a damper on his plans.

"Well, not me personally. It was a team effort," he insists.

"But wasn't he the one who knocked you out?" the girl asks.

"Well, not he personally," he repeats, rubbing his cheek. "It was mostly his right hook that did the work."

"And he isn't even noble," the girl says, studying my face openly and boldly.

I hurry off before they'll ask me for an autograph. My room is just around the corner. I push open the slightly ajar door and step inside. The room is spacious, with three beds. My bag is on one of them, while a blond boy absorbed in a book occupies another. Looking closer at his face, I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

Wow, small world! Stan the Hornet, my old battle buddy. We went through hell together in the Gobi Desert, taking on the high demon known as the Great Worm Aba. While Stan kept his underlings — the Wormdemons — busy, I squared off against this gargantuan gray monstrosity as tall as a ten-story building. That accursed Ouroboros! I nimbly dodged around its coiling body, hacking away at its slippery hide with my Thunder Claws. In the end, the creature flicked me skyward with its tail and gulped me down.

As I plummeted down its gullet, I didn't waste a second: I tore through the slimy interior. That seemed to do the trick. The beast toppled over with a resounding crash, as if a skyscraper had just collapsed, sending up plumes of sand. Its enormous jaws clamped shut like a fortress gate locking into place. I managed to slash my way out, tearing its stomach open. The funniest part? When Stan the Hornet saw me, he squealed like a little girl. I couldn't fault him: the beast's stomach acid had scorched my skin down to the muscle, making me look more monstrous than any demon. But with the fractal of Escalope, such injuries amounted to little more than a scratch.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Stan frowns. "I didn't invite you in."

Hmm, a bit harsh.

"Well, I live here now. I don't knock when I enter my home, sorry."

"What family are you from?"

Really, Stan? More of that nobility nonsense.

"A big one."

"What do you mean? Untitled or noble?"

"Go higher — imperial."

"Seriously?" He widens his eyes.

"Of course! Don't you think the great Manchu Qing dynasty sound serious?" I squint a little, pretending to be Chinese. "Didn't you recognize me?"

Stan doesn't get the joke.

"Got it. So you're a commoner," he snorts contemptuously.

Well, fine. I didn't really want his approval. I start unpacking my bag.

"Don't bother settling in. You're not staying here."

What's happening to the world? Are all my old acquaintances going to dump me?

"Keep talking and I'll break your jaw," I say matter-of-factly as I continue unpacking.

Stan is asking for it.

"Fighting is forbidden in the academy," he says, looking at me in shock. "You'd be expelled immediately."

"You're wrong. No one can tell anyone what they can or can't do," I say over my shoulder. "You're given rules, but it's up to you whether you follow them or not. It looks like I'm about to decide to beat some arrogant idiot."

My bluff works. Stan gets the message and buries his nose in his book. 

The guy I accidentally cockblocked earlier comes in. Great. Another troublemaker? He stops in front of me. I immediately turn to face him, ready for any trick.

"Eugene," he holds out his hand. "Axel. From the Western County."

Is there someone sensible in this palace?

"Arthur Demont. Local."

I shake his hand in return. He grips it a little tighter. I do the same. We both squeeze harder, as if in some kind of macho competition. Then he flops down on the bed and pulls out his mobile phone.

"Alice's waiting you at the door, just so you know." He gives me a quick glance before diving back into his phone.

"Who's Alice ?"

"She's Princess Alice Morar, my compatriot." He sighs sadly. "We both came here two years ago. I had plans for her, but it looks like you've stolen her heart away with just your presence. Would you like to share your secret to attracting girls?"

"Maybe it's the stitches," I joke, pulling my lower lip down with two fingers.

"No," the guy replies and smiles. "It's probably the plaster on your temple."

We both laugh. Finally, a sensible neighbor.

"Will you both shut up?" Stan snarls, shaking his book. "I can't concentrate."

"Shut up yourself," Eugene snorts. "You're giving me a headache."

"Go to hell, you gypsy aristocrat," Stan quickly flares up.

"Shut up, you pauper," Eugene retorts.

The bickering begins. Half-listening, I continue to unpack.

"Skirt chaser!"

"Nerd."

"Beggar!"

"Bookworm."

Phew, I finally got all my clothes hung up. I toss the empty bag under the bed and head outside. I'd rather think than listen to more bickering.

"Are you going to see Alice?" Eugene doesn't take his eyes off me as I leave.

"Don't worry, neighbor," I reply, stepping out the door. "I've never been attracted to someone else's piece of the cake."

Eugene's concern isn't unfounded. As soon as I cross the threshold, the princess he's been pining for jumps up from her seat. She's too beautiful to ignore — long dark hair, big dark eyes, tanned and statuesque. A plasma screen glows behind her slender figure.

"Hello, Arthur," she says, her eyes twinkling as she offers her hand. "I'm—"

"Princess Alice Morar," I interrupt, shaking her soft fingers. "It seems we already know each other, thanks to Eugene."

"You could say that," she laughs melodically. "If you hadn't beaten him in the final of last year's Games, you wouldn't have caught my attention. No offence."

"Never apologize for telling the truth," I say, grinning from ear to ear. I probably look like a Tyrannaz. Fortunately, Alice isn't familiar with such associations. She can't take her eyes off my battered face.

"You're new here," she says. "You might find it interesting to explore the area. I could keep you company."

"I'd be honored," I reply. Walking with the cake doesn't mean I'm going to eat it, does it?

We decide to visit the school park first. Strolling down a sun-drenched avenue, we veer toward the distant sports fields. There, girls in snug T-shirts and short blue shorts are busy with pull-ups on the bars. The sight is captivating — some of the athletes have sweated so much that the halos of their nipples are visible through their wet shirts. One girl is in the middle of a pull-up, showing off her flexible body and muscle tone.

"We're having a party on Saturday," Alice mumbles from my side. "Would you like to come with me?"

Sorry, Princess, but this is starting to sound like an attempt to eat someone else's cake.

"The other nobles might not be too keen on you bringing a commoner along," I say.

Alice raises her elegant eyebrows.

"Who cares what other people think?" Her answer resonates with me, damn, I like her! But I still have to deflect.

"What will you think when you find out that I don't have Prana anymore? That I might lose my scholarship and get kicked out of here any day now?" I look intently into her eyes, as bright as the side of a high-end sports car.

"They won't kick you out," she says confidently, shrugging her slender shoulders. "Is a lion without a mane any less of a lion?"

So she doesn't care about my 'defectiveness.' Absolutely sweet! But it still feels like I'm trying to eat someone else's piece.

"Hmm, what kind of party is this?"

"The usual one: sparring, music, cocktails, a pool."

"Sorry, I'm not good with a crowd."

"We'll sneak away," she says, grabbing my hand. "We'll make an appearance and then go off and have some fun, just the two of us. You can tolerate me, can't you?"

"For about ten minutes now, yes." I nod thoughtfully. "But something tells me a thousand more minutes would pass just as quickly."

She bites her lip, hiding a nervous smile, but doesn't release her grip on my wrist. I feel myself melting, literally turning into a puddle.

Ah, Eugene, my neighbor, forgive me. I've been fighting as hard as I can, but I've lost. She's a worthy opponent — she makes even Citygrave look second-rate.

"I'll think about it, OK?" It's impossible to reject this nymph outright. I have to change the battlefield. I'll say 'no' later, when she doesn't look so incredibly alluring. That is, if such a moment ever comes.

"Miss Morar," a stern female voice sounds. "Public displays of affection are not permitted in the academy."

Alice immediately releases my hand.

"I apologize, Tutor Ella."

I turn to see her — a full-bodied woman, a far cry from the narrow-hipped schoolgirls, but very much to my taste. After all, I'm not a schoolboy either. Right now, Ella's face radiates restrained anger, and it suits her perfectly.

"Demont!" Ella glares at me, lips pursed. "First day at school and you've already earned two warnings. Do you want a formal reprimand?"

"Tutor, I didn't display anything," I shake my head apologetically. "I merely stumbled, and the Princess caught me by the hand to help me to my feet. I am very grateful for that."

I feel Ella's eyes pierce me. Could it be that she's attracted to me? Her reaction seems too intense for something as trivial as holding hands.

"Watch your step, Demont," Ella finally grumbles and walks away.

"What's wrong with her?" Alice asks, confused.

I shrug. I hope it's love.