Paired Evaluation III

"What's this?" Cecilia's voice lilted as she sauntered up to me, the picture of mischief wrapped in an Imperial princess's composure. Her smirk alone could ignite a diplomatic incident.

She leaned closer, crimson eyes gleaming with that maddening spark of hers. "Did I surprise you again?"

It was such a Cecilia thing to say. Casual, teasing, and utterly infuriating. I resisted the urge to groan. 'God, she's such a hassle,' I thought, forcing my expression into something neutral.

In the novel, this evaluation had been a spectacular disaster for Rachel and Cecilia. They had failed so colossally that their F grade became a running joke among the other students. But this wasn't the novel anymore. Somehow, their fractured dynamic had turned into an A+ performance. And from the look Cecilia was giving me, it wasn't just coincidence.

"Perhaps," I replied evenly, my gaze steady as hers sparkled with satisfaction.

Cecilia's smirk widened, her cheeks taking on a faint flush. "You really…" she began, pausing as though debating just how dramatic to be. Finally, she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, "I'm going to shock you so much one day that you'll kneel before me."

If I hadn't already known she was a bit unhinged, that statement would have done it.

'Crazy,' I thought, watching as she turned on her heel, her golden hair swishing dramatically as she walked away. She was practically radiating self-satisfaction.

Before I could fully process her departure, my attention shifted to Rachel, standing a few steps away. Her sapphire eyes were locked onto us, her expression a strange mix of irritation and something sharper. The moment our eyes met, she turned her head with an almost theatrical air, clearly trying to pretend she hadn't been watching.

Rachel wasn't the jealous type—not in the conventional sense. But she was perceptive. And right now, she looked both annoyed and a little hurt. 'I should fix this,' I thought, sighing inwardly as I headed toward her.

"Hey, Rach, congrats," I said lightly, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere neutral.

She didn't reply. Instead, she kept her head turned, as if the very sight of me was an affront to her existence.

I blinked, caught off guard. 'She's cute when she's mad,' I thought absently, then mentally kicked myself. Not the time.

"Sorry," she said at last, her voice tinged with sarcasm, "was my gaze annoying you and your… 'fun' time with Cecilia?"

The way she said "fun" was like someone spitting out something unpleasant. Her tone could have melted steel.

"That wasn't a fun time at all, Rachel," I said earnestly, resisting the urge to laugh at her theatrics.

Rachel turned her head slightly, finally meeting my gaze, her sapphire eyes narrowing. "Really? Because it sure looked like it from here."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Cecilia's just—"

"A hassle?" she interrupted, her brow arching. "Or are you actually enjoying her little games?"

"She's a handful," I admitted, earning a skeptical look. "But I'd hardly call it enjoyable. Honestly, if you could read my mind during those conversations, you'd know I'm spending most of them wishing for a fast-forward button."

Rachel's glare softened, though she didn't entirely drop her guard. "She's not exactly the most… stable person," she said carefully.

"I'm aware," I said, glancing briefly toward where Cecilia had disappeared, her presence like the aftermath of a small tornado. "But you don't need to worry about that. She just likes stirring the pot."

Rachel studied me for a moment, her arms crossed. Then, with a sigh, she finally relaxed. "Fine. But if she gets any ideas about dragging you into her chaos, don't come crying to me."

I grinned. "Noted. And for the record, I'd rather team up with you than her any day."

Her eyes widened briefly before she looked away, muttering something about how I "shouldn't make it a habit to flatter people." But the slight pink tint to her cheeks didn't escape my notice.

The last two pairs performed better than they had during practice. Lucifer and Jin managed a B+, while Ian and Ren scraped an A-, both respectable scores for the evaluation. It was clear everyone had made progress, though some more begrudgingly than others.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Seraphina. She stood apart, her usual air of serene detachment firmly in place, but something was different. Her gaze lingered in my direction—subtle, yet unmistakable. Then, without a word, she pulled out her phone and began typing furiously, her lips moving in what seemed like a whispered monologue to herself.

I had no idea what she was saying, but the sheer intensity of it sent a shiver down my spine. 'I can't hear her,' I thought, 'and maybe that's for the best.'

Deciding that Seraphina's mutterings were a mystery for another time, I shifted my attention and made my way to Rose, who was standing near one of the holographic displays, the soft glow reflecting off her glasses.

"Congratulations on your grade, Rose," I greeted her with a warm smile.

Rose turned, her own smile lighting up her face. "Same to you, Arthur! A+—look at you!" she said, her tone teasing but genuinely happy for me.

We slipped into an easy conversation, catching up on how everyone was faring after the evaluation. Rose had that rare talent of making even the most mundane subjects seem engaging, and I found myself grinning more than I realized. But then I noticed something odd—her gaze kept flickering to the side. It was subtle at first, just a glance every now and then, but soon enough, it became impossible to ignore.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.

Rose rubbed her arm awkwardly, her cheeks tinged with faint embarrassment. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's just…" She paused, her lips tightening for a moment before continuing. "Cecilia and Rachel are staring. A lot."

I blinked. "Staring?"

Rose gave a tiny nod, trying—and failing—to appear nonchalant. "Yeah. Like, laser-focused staring. You know, the kind where they think they're being subtle, but they're absolutely not."

I resisted the urge to look immediately, though the idea of both Cecilia and Rachel staring daggers—or possibly plasma bolts—at us was more than a little unsettling. "What are they even staring at?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Rose shrugged, but her lips twitched into a sly smile. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because I've stolen all of your attention?"

"Stolen? That implies I'm a finite resource," I said, trying to match her playful tone.

"Arthur, anyone who knows those two knows you're their favorite limited-edition collectible," she teased, crossing her arms with a faux-serious expression. "They're probably trying to calculate how much time I'm allowed to have before they swoop in."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're overthinking it. Rachel's probably just… tired. And Cecilia? Who knows. She's Cecilia."

Rose smirked, giving me a pointed look. "Right. And here I thought you were the tactical genius who could read people like a book."

"Some books are written in languages I'd rather not learn," I replied, earning a soft laugh from her.

But even as we continued chatting, I couldn't help but feel those gazes on me, sharp and unrelenting. Cecilia and Rachel weren't just watching. They were calculating, scheming—each in their own way. And while I wasn't entirely sure what they were planning, I had the distinct sense that my peaceful moment with Rose had a countdown timer attached to it.