Chapter 203: Chapter 203: What Did He Do?

Breakfast with everyone went normally, a peaceful lull before the inevitable chaos of the day.

An hour or probably more later, Zaeryn stood in front of the full-length mirror in his room, fastening the final clasp of his academy uniform.

The deep charcoal fabric with its silver piping molded perfectly to his frame, accentuating the lean muscle he’d been building. He ran a hand through his damp hair, checking his reflection. The bruising on his face from yesterday’s spar with Leia was almost entirely gone thanks to Dr. Aveline’s treatment.

"Not bad," he muttered to himself, turning side-to-side to admire the fit. He looked formidable. It made perfect sense why half the students hated him, but the half couldn’t help themselves. They were attracted to him.

He grabbed his data slate and headed downstairs. The morning rush had settled; the house was quieter now with everyone focused on their own things.

Ysmeine was waiting for him in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a soft, observant smile. She wore a silk robe that clung loosely to her curves, the fabric shifting just enough to hint at the lush figure beneath as she straightened up. Her eyes swept over him, dark and dilated, mixing maternal pride with that unmistakable, possessive heat she’d been showing him lately.

"You clean up well," she noted, her voice a low purr as she stepped into his personal space. She reached out, her fingers deftly adjusting a lapel that was already perfect, her knuckles grazing his chest with deliberate slowness. "Ready for your third day?"

"As I’ll ever be," Zaeryn replied, his hands settling naturally on her waist. He pulled her just a fraction closer, enjoying the way her breath hitched.

"Just remember our date later," she reminded him playfully, her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, her nails lightly scratching the fabric of his uniform. "The district center. We still need those new chairs."

"I haven’t forgotten. I broke it, I buy it... or carry it, in this case," he grinned, leaning down so their faces were inches apart.

Her expression shifted, the playfulness dimming into something slightly more serious, though she didn’t pull away. "Zaeryn...."

"Yes, is.... Something wrong?" He sensed the change immediately, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against her waist.

She smiled again, assuring him, though her gaze was intense. "Of course not, dear. I just want you to know that Viora also wants to meet you."

Zaeryn stilled. "Oh, that’s... good news," he said, though the words came out slower than usual. Honestly, he was surprised. He knew she had figured out his identity, but he hadn’t expected her to reach out.

"Yes. And she wants to meet you as soon as possible too." Ysmeine added, watching his reaction closely.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"And Athea approves of this?" He asked, skepticism coloring his tone. His mother, or the woman who played the role from a distance, usually preferred him hidden in a dark hole.

"Yes.... She did think it was risky, but I convinced her," she responded, her hands smoothing down his lapels possessively. "But the main reason, I think, is because Viora demanded to see you and she didn’t take no for an answer."

Zaeryn didn’t say much for some time, just processing. He was finally going to meet his sister? Viora? The Tier 2 Warlady, the Princess. He never thought it was going to happen that he would meet anyone from Athea’s family, especially his own sister, especially so soon.

"Wow," he breathed out. He didn’t mind. In fact, a spark of genuine curiosity lit up his chest. She wanted to meet him. That meant she didn’t dislike him already, and that made Zaeryn happy.

Ysmeine stepped closer, eliminating the remaining space between them. She tilted her head back, her lips brushing against his jawline before finding his mouth. It wasn’t a chaste goodbye; it was deep, lingering, and full of claim.

When she pulled back, her eyes were heavy-lidded. "Be safe, Zae. And try not to upset someone and end up getting a burn again."

"No promises," he murmured, stealing one last quick kiss.

He pulled away reluctantly and stepped out the front door. The morning air was crisp, the sunlight of Sector 7 gleaming off the sleek surfaces of the architecture.

The black hover-cruiser was idling on the landing pad. Mireille and Arya were waiting by the open door, clearly finished with whatever briefing Lysara had interrupted them for earlier.

Mireille stood with her usual stoic posture, checking a readout on her wrist, while Arya offered a bright, enthusiastic wave as he jogged down the steps.

"There’s our star pupil," Arya chirped, her smile infectious. "Ready to traumatize more upperclass women?"

"That’s the plan," Zaeryn quipped, hopping into the plush interior of the cruiser.

Mireille glanced up, her icy blue eyes giving him a quick assessment. There was no disdain there today, just a cool, professional acknowledgment. She nodded almost in approval. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, let’s go."

The ride to the academy was smooth, the silence inside the cruiser a comfortable buffer before the day truly began. When they touched down, Zaeryn stepped out, adjusting his uniform as he walked into the main hallway.

The atmosphere had shifted. His first and second day, the air had been thick with hostility and shock, like he was a contagion they were trying to isolate. Today, the energy was different. He was still getting looks, but the razor-sharp disgust had dulled into something else entirely.

Curiosity. Speculation. And in some eyes, admiration.

He caught a group of second-years whispering behind their hands, their eyes tracking him not with sneers, but with widened interest. It seemed surviving a spar with Leia had upgraded his status from nuisance to campus celebrity.

He was lost in thought, mentally prepping for whatever events awaited him, when a girl stepped directly into his path, blocking the center of the corridor with a confident stance.

Zaeryn stopped, blinking. She was beautiful, radiating a bright, eager energy that was impossible to ignore. Her uniform was customized with a few non-regulation accessories, and her eyes were sharp, assessing him with zero shame.

"Uh.... Hey?" he asked, a bit confused.

The girl didn’t move an inch. She beamed, rocking back on her heels. "I’m Shira," she said, her voice bubbling with confidence. "Third year."

She took a step closer, invading his personal bubble just enough to make it clear she wasn’t intimidated. "I saw you yesterday," she continued, her eyes wide with that intense curiosity he was quickly getting used to. "In the Aegis Chamber. With Leia. That was... insane."

"Just trying to survive," Zaeryn replied casually, relaxing his posture. "Glad I could put on a show for the upperclasswomen."

She giggled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture that felt practiced and flirtatious. "Well, you definitely did. We were actually debating your combat style this morning in the senior lounge. It’s... unconventional. Most guys would have curled up and cried. You? You threw a punch."

"Unconventional is my middle name," he quipped smoothly. He sighed, "Anyway, Shira, I’d love to chat more.... and I’m flattered the third years are talking about me, but I should probably get going before I’m late."

"Oh! Right." She beamed at him, stepping aside but letting her gaze linger on him as he passed. "See you around, Zaeryn."

He gave her a nod and continued down the corridor, feeling her eyes on his back. It was strange, but nice, to be stopped for a chat that didn’t involve threats or insults.

Further down the hall, near a cluster of holographic notice boards, he spotted two familiar figures. Meira and Morticia were standing close together, their heads bent over an Omni-pad Morticia was holding.

A genuine smile touched Zaeryn’s lips. He slid up beside them, leaning in close to peek at the screen over Morticia’s shoulder, his chest brushing her arm. "Hey girls."

He greeted, his voice low near her ear. "What are you looking at? Planning world domination?"

Meira jumped slightly, then turned with a bright, friendly smile that hinted at the intimacy of the previous night. "Oh, hey! We were actually looking at the updated combat rankings. You’re trending, by the way."

"Trending?" Zaeryn raised a brow, leaning back against the wall casually. "For better or worse?"

"Mixed reviews," Morticia answered coolly, not looking up from the data stream immediately. When she finally shifted her gaze to him, her expression was calm and analytical, but her eyes held a flicker of heat, a memory of the slow, deliberate kiss she’d given him during the game. "You look recovered. I trust Leia didn’t do too much damage?"

"No. I recover fast," he said, holding her gaze. "It was a pretty even fight, so it’s not surprising."

"Yes, it was actually pretty even," Meira agreed.

Zaeryn nodded, about to reply with something, when a voice cracked through the hallway like a whip, freezing the blood in his veins.

"NOCTIS!"

The sharp sound silenced the chatter nearby instantly. Students scattered or pressed themselves against the walls to clear a path.

Zaeryn winced, his shoulders seizing up. He knew that voice. He turned slowly to find Professor Jade storming toward him, her heels clicking against the floor with terrifying precision.

She looked annoyed. No, she looked livid. Her storm-cloud eyes were flashing, and she was gripping a data-slate like she wanted to break it over his head. Her uniform was impeccable, hugging her curves in a severe, authoritative way that made her terrifyingly attractive even when she looked ready to kill.

"Uh, good morning, Professor?" Zaeryn offered, flashing his most innocent smile, trying to diffuse the tension. Escalating this here would be a dumb move.

"Don’t you ’good morning’ me," she snapped, stopping inches from him. She invaded his personal space just like she had in her office, her scent. crisp and something darkly floral, enveloping him. "Do you think this academy is a joke? Do you think the rules of academic integrity are mere suggestions for you because you are a statistical deviation?"

She leaned in, her height and heels making her appear taller than him, her presence overwhelming.

"I... what did I do this time?" he asked, genuinely confused. He hadn’t even been to class yet today. He literally, just stepped out of the cruiser and walked in here, so this made no sense.

"My office," she hissed, pointing back the way she came with the data slate. She didn’t wait for him to defend himself, spinning on her heel and marching away, the sway of her hips sharp and angry. "Now."

Meira and Morticia exchanged a look, eyebrows raised in equal parts surprise and sympathy.

"Good luck," Meira whispered, patting his arm.

"Yeah, try not to die," Morticia added dryly, though her lips quirked up.

Zaeryn sighed, watching the retreating form of the furious professor. "Coming," he muttered, hanging his head as he trudged after her, wondering what fresh hell awaited him behind her office door this time.