The Queen of all.

The dormitory halls of Aetheria Academy hummed with muffled chatter, but Kiria's room was a cathedral of chaos. She kicked the door shut with her heel, the slam reverberating like a gunshot. Clothes erupted from her closet in a fabric landslide, spellbooks teetered in Jenga-like towers, and stolen trinkets—a pocket watch, a silver hairbrush, a vial of someone else's tears—glinted like trophies on her shelves. Her former roommate's bed lay stripped bare, a monument to Kiria's intolerance for company.

She collapsed onto her mattress, the springs shrieking in protest, and plucked the star-shaped hairpin from her hair. "Still alive in there, Freckles?" She held it up to the lamplight, watching the metal gleam. "Bet you're loving this. All cozy and quiet, just how you like it."

Inside the pin, Lis's consciousness recoiled. Liar. Liar— But the thought dissolved as Kiria's laughter vibrated through the metal.

Kiria tossed the pin onto her nightstand, where it clattered against a half-eaten chocolate bar. "Don't get comfortable," she muttered, though she wasn't sure who she was warning. She flipped open a spellbook, its pages crackling with forbidden diagrams, but the words blurred.

The book itself was stolen from the headmaster's study, its leather binding cracked with age. Advanced Metamorphic Theory—a text meant for graduating adepts, not first-years. Kiria flipped past diagrams of dissolving bone structures and skin-to-scale transmutations, her eyes skimming paragraphs she'd already annotated. A half-eaten chocolate bar served as a bookmark, caramel smudging the margin notes in her own handwriting: Too slow. Simplify incantation here.

Next Morning Kiria sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration, the hairpin glinting like a challenge. Students stiffened as she passed—whispers died mid-sentence, laughter choked into coughs. A third-year pressed himself against the wall, his textbook slipping from his hands. She stepped on it, relishing the crack of the spine.

Kiria shouldered the classroom door open, letting it slam against the wall. Students near the windows scattered like sparrows, abandoning their seats. She claimed the vacated spot, perching on the sill with one boot propped against someone's desk. The autumn sun haloed her hair, the star-shaped pin glinting like a warning flare. When Professor Vayne entered, Kiria took her time slinking to her desk—slow, deliberate, savoring the way the room held its breath. She kicked her feet onto the desk, crossed at the ankles, and smirked at the chalkboard's trembling diagrams.

"Miss Shirogane," Professor Vayne said, adjusting her glasses, then swallowed her remaining words seeing Kiria's smirk, stretching her legs farther.

"Make me."

The class held its breath. Professor Vayne's jaw twitched—then she turned sharply to the board, her pointer stabbing at a diagram of a half-transformed sparrow. "Precision," she said, too loudly, "separates adequate witches from exceptional ones."

Kiria yawned, twirling her wand. Beneath her hair, the pin prickled with Lis's presence—a faint, electric hum.

Annoying. Comforting.

She leaned back and whispered, "No one's noticed you're gone. Not even Vayne. Guess you're as forgettable as you look, huh?"

Lis flinched.

I know. I've always known.

But hearing it from Kiria's lips carved the truth deeper.

Kiria grinned at the pin's sudden heat. "Don't worry. I'll let you out… if I feel like it."

Lis's silence throbbed. Do it. See if I care—

The bell rang. Kiria lingered as the class filed out, her wand tapping the hairpin in deliberate rhythm. "You hungry, Freckles?"

The cafeteria buzzed with the clatter of trays and nervous laughter. Kiria leaned against the doorway, scanning the room. A first-year girl clutched her sandwich, knuckles white.

Perfect.

Kiria swaggered over, her shadow swallowing the girl's hunched form. "That mine?"

"N-no, I—" Kiria snatched the sandwich, mayo oozing between her fingers. "Thanks."

Moments later, on the rooftop, Kiria leaned against the rusted railing, the city sprawling below like a toy model. She flicked her wand, translucent magic circles formed as quickly as they disappeared. Light erupted, and Lis materialized mid-stumble, her knees buckling. Kiria caught her wrist, yanking her upright. "Careful. Wouldn't want you falling." Her thumb pressed into Lis's pulse point. "Not until I say so."

Lis wrenched free, cheeks flushed. "You left me like that all night!"

"Yeah?" Kiria slid down and sat on the ground, biting into the stolen sandwich, mayo dripping onto the concrete. "You looked cute. Maybe I'll frame you next time. Hang you above my bed."

Lis flinched. "I'd rather not—"

"Sit." Kiria patted the ground, her tone sweet as poisoned honey.

Lis startled back, then obliged and sank down, knees drawn to her chest. Kiria handed the remaining half of the sandwich into her lap. "Eat. You're twitchier than enchanted cat"

Lis stared at the sandwich. Her stomach growled. Her pride screamed.

Kiria leaned in, close enough to count the freckles dusting Lis's nose. "What's wrong? Not hungry?" Her wand tip hooked under Lis's chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Her voice changing to over-sweetened tone "Or do you want me to feed you?"

Lis grabbed the food, her nails piercing the bread. Hate you. Hate you— "...Thanks"

Kiria grinned. "Good girl."