Sharp Words, Shattered Pride

Kourtney stepped back into the main corridor, her heels whispering against the polished marble. The palace's golden grandeur now felt colder, the light from the chandeliers falling like moonlight on her path. She moved without hesitation—steady, composed, her glasses in place and her coat drawn neatly around her. Whatever message had stirred her moments ago was tucked somewhere deep beneath her now unreadable calm.

She crossed into the wide hall leading toward the exit.

But just ahead, rounding the curve of the hallway, came the six princes—still in tuxedos, likely en route to the ballroom. Their conversation hovered low among them until Kourtney's presence cut through the air like a draft colder than the marble beneath their feet.

She didn't pause. She didn't blink. She passed them as though they weren't even there. Her gaze didn't stray, her head held high, stride graceful and silent.

Prince Robert noticed her first. "Well, if it isn't the silent storm."

Keith's jaw tensed. He was still raw from earlier. Still stung. And he couldn't let it go.

"Leaving without another performance?" he called, his voice echoing more sharply than intended.

Kourtney didn't stop.

"Must be exhausting," he continued, louder now, bitterness creeping in. "Carrying that mask. Pretending you're not desperate to be seen. Like the world won't forget you the second you walk away. How charming."

She stopped.

Slowly, she turned—like the measured turn of a dial clicking into place.

Her face angled just enough to catch him in her line of sight. "If I were truly forgettable… you wouldn't be trying so desperately to have the last word."

Keith's breath caught, a split second too slow. His composure cracked.

He stepped forward. "Do you even know who you're speaking to?"

Now she turned fully, calmly.

"I don't," she said. "And I assure you, I don't care. You left a perfectly shady impression."

Robert let out a surprised breath. Wysten blinked, eyes narrowing slightly. Edward's brow lifted.

Keith's jaw clenched tighter, something close to disbelief flickering in his eyes. "You act like you're different. But I've seen girls like you—bold just to cover the lack underneath. Hoping someone mistakes it for value. You're not fooling anyone."

Kourtney didn't even flinch. She removed her glasses slowly, deliberately. Her prismic eyes caught the light—brilliant, sharp, unsettling.

She stepped closer.

"Are you finished?" Her voice was low, even. The kind of quiet that demands attention.

Keith blinked. "What?"

"I said, are you done?" she repeated, each word like a pin striking glass. "Or do you just enjoy the sound of your own voice?"

A beat.

"You're exhausting. Has no one ever told you that?"

His jaw tightened. His lips parted, but the words didn't come. The retort he wanted stumbled at the gate.

She stepped closer still, closing the distance with quiet authority.. "Has no one ever told you how obnoxious you sound? If not—consider this your first lesson. My ears are bleeding."

Robert's brows shot up. Wysten straightened a fraction. Even Jacen looked up sharply.

Keith looked shaken now, confusion and fury battling behind his eyes.

"You think being sharp makes you clever?" he bit out. "You're just hiding behind attitude. People like you always do."

Kourtney didn't blink. "And people like you never learned the difference between arrogance and presence."

He stared, lips slightly parted, visibly thrown off now. Not just angry—but bewildered.

She leaned in, voice barely above a whisper, but razor-edged.

"And by the way… what makes you think I'm trying to charm you? That's a level of delusion I won't dignify."

"How dare you—"

She raised a hand mid-air. A quiet, graceful stop.

"No, really. Stop right there."

Keith recoiled, startled.

"You look like a spoiled child who throws tantrums when ignored."

He inhaled sharply, struggling to contain his reaction. "Did you just call me—?"

"—a child?" she said, stepping back with an arched brow. "Yes. And not even a well-behaved one."

She turned to the others, her gaze sweeping with cool composure.

"Honestly, how do you put up with him? Daily tantrums must get exhausting."

Robert blinked, then grinned wide, a quiet laugh escaping before he could stop it. "She's not wrong."

Jacen ran a hand down his face. "This is… wow."

Nicholas tilted his head, staring at Kourtney like she'd just rewritten gravity. "She's brutal," he said, half-impressed, half-stunned.

Wysten's arms folded slowly, his expression unreadable. But his eyes lingered on Keith—distant, almost disappointed.

Keith took a sudden step forward, fists clenched. But Kourtney turned without hesitation, already done.

"I've already wasted more time than you're worth," she said simply, walking off, her coat catching the chandelier light in a soft wave.

Her footsteps echoed down the marble like punctuation.

Silence bloomed behind her.

Keith stood still, staring after her. His chest rose and fell unevenly. His fists were rigid, his jaw taut, lips slightly parted with a retort that never made it to his tongue.

The silence among the princes wasn't awkward—it was stunned.

"She called you a child," Robert finally said, eyes wide in mock reverence, practically glowing with joy.

Keith's eyes remained fixed on her retreating figure.

"I'll kill him if he laughs again," he muttered, seething.

Robert replied, unfazed. "Just appreciating the sheer art of it. That was—what's the word? Ah—brutal."

Nicholas stood still, eyes lingering on the space she'd just left. His tone was quieter, contemplative.

"It was calculated," he said quietly. "Not arrogance—control. Every word landed exactly where she meant it to."

Edward looked at Keith, his voice low. "You walked into it, Keith. You practically handed her the sword."

Keith spun toward him. "She thinks she's clever."

"She was clever," Robert corrected with a shrug. "You're just not used to being outplayed."

Keith's glare snapped to him. "I didn't ask for your commentary."

"Which makes this more delightful," Robert replied.

Keith took a sharp breath, trying to compose himself, but his posture betrayed him—rigid spine, clenched fists, jaw tight with words he didn't dare say aloud.

He turned abruptly, heading up the stairs.

"Say one more word and I swear—" he threw back over his shoulder.

"Relax," Wysten called dryly. "We're just impressed. It's not every day someone outdoes you."

Robert leaned slightly toward Edward and whispered with a grin, "He's going to brood about this all evening."

"I can hear you," Keith snapped from the landing.

Edward's sigh was light. "We know."