The Art of Deception

Life had become a relentless gauntlet of misery. Every morning, the sun mocked me with its cheerful rise, as if daring me to survive another day. School, followed by the nightmare of training with her Seraphis, the tyrant masquerading as an instructor. My body ached, my mind reeled, and my soul yearned for one thing: a break.

This morning was no different. I lay in bed, staring at the ornate ceiling of my room in Enara's castle, my mind sluggish from exhaustion. But even in my groggy state, I noticed something odd: Ananara was missing. Again.

That arrogant pineapple had been sneaking off during the nights recently, returning just in time for breakfast with some vague excuse or another. I had long stopped questioning it; dealing with him was exhausting at the best of times. Still, his absence sparked an idea one so ridiculous it just might work.