The news hit the Academy before the sun even fully rose.
Alexander Valerius was back—and not just back. He had chosen a side.
No one said it aloud. But everyone knew it.
He stood beside her.
Evelyn Hawthorne.
By breakfast, students whispered behind hands and enchanted parchment flickered with speculation. Some murmured about forbidden romances. Others about political consequences. A few hinted at a scandal. But the truth was quieter, and far more dangerous:
Alexander hadn't just returned to the Academy.
He had returned for her.
Evelyn moved through the halls with her head held high, but she could feel the pressure closing in again—like vines tightening around her every step.
And yet…
He was there now.
When Caelan spoke with her outside the library, Alexander leaned quietly against the stone archway nearby—eyes sharp, posture unreadable. He didn't interfere, but he didn't leave either.
When instructors offered cryptic warnings or sly smiles, he lingered long enough for their tones to sharpen into respect.
Evelyn wasn't sure what was more unsettling—the silence of the Academy shifting in real time, or the way Alexander's presence steadied her more than she wanted to admit.
Not control.
Just… quiet certainty.
And for the first time, she wasn't drowning in it alone.
—
Across campus, in the deeper wings where whispers festered, Isabella shut the last book in front of her and sat perfectly still.
The chandelier above her glinted off her polished nails as she traced the cover's edge.
"They're talking," a girl near her murmured. "Everyone saw him standing there. Beside her."
"Good," Isabella said softly.
The girl blinked. "Good?"
Isabella turned, a glint in her eye as her smile sharpened. "Let them stare. Let them speculate. It will make it that much easier when everything breaks."
She rose gracefully, collecting her gloves, and tucked a pale green envelope into her satchel—a reply to a letter with no return address.
The serpent sigil burned faintly on the seal.
The next phase was ready. Her ally had already moved two pieces into place.
Now, all she had to do was wait.
Not for Evelyn to fall—
But for Alexander to falter.
Because love didn't just make people vulnerable.
It made them blind.
And Isabella had never played a fair game in her life.