The academy grounds buzzed with whispers as a new face strolled through the gates, turning heads with each confident step. Quincy was tall, her long dark hair pulled back, a quiet power exuding from her that made students pause mid-conversation. Tim leaned against a pillar, watching her with casual curiosity, though he felt an odd, almost magnetic pull. Something about her presence sent a strange ripple through the air—a feeling that was hard to ignore.
As Quincy passed by, she caught Tim's eye. A flicker of recognition seemed to cross her face, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a small, enigmatic smile. Tim blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, he thought she might say something, but she continued on, leaving him intrigued and slightly unsettled.
Across the Courtyard, Brandon and Brayden stood by the training grounds, their focus on Quincy. Brayden's usual smirk had slipped, replaced by an expression that hinted at old wounds, while Brandon looked on with a mixture of tension and something deeper, something that seemed out of place. Tim raised an eyebrow as he caught the way Brayden clenched his jaw, his eyes never leaving Quincy until she disappeared into the academy.
Tim turned to Anika, who had been standing beside him. She watched the exchange between the brothers, her expression unreadable, though he noticed a slight crease in her brow.
"So," he began, nudging her with a grin, "who's the mystery girl that's got everyone so rattled?"
Anika shrugged, trying to act unfazed. "Looks like Quincy. I heard she used to be close with Brayden… real close."
"Brayden?" Tim smirked. "Not you?"
Anika rolled her eyes, though Tim didn't miss the way her gaze lingered on Brayden, as if waiting for him to notice her. "He's got his own past to deal with," she said, her tone cool. "Besides, I don't think he's even noticed her yet. Not with… that around." She gestured to Quincy, who was already making her way toward the council chambers.
Tim could hear the edge in Anika's voice and filed it away. He wasn't sure what the story was with Quincy, but she clearly had some complicated ties here. He also noticed Anika was leaning just a bit closer to him than usual. It was subtle, but it was there—a slight shift that made Tim wonder if he was a piece in whatever game she and Brayden were playing.
Quincy was escorted to meet the council, and she walked with the confidence of someone who knew her way around, despite being new. As she moved down the hallway, she allowed herself one last glance back. She spotted Tim through the open doors, chatting with Anika, and made a mental note. Her orders were clear: Tim was her mission. Yet, seeing Brayden and Brandon had brought up emotions she hadn't anticipated.
But Quincy was a professional, trained to focus on her goal above all else. With a final, lingering look toward the courtyard, she reminded herself of her purpose and disappeared into the council room.
When Quincy's orientation concluded, she crossed paths with Brandon outside the training hall. Their eyes met, and for a second, neither of them spoke. Brandon finally broke the silence. "You shouldn't be here."
Quincy gave him a small, sad smile. "Guess that's not your decision to make." Her voice was soft, almost apologetic, though she didn't linger for an answer.
As she walked away, Brandon's eyes followed her, a slight frown etched on his face. Tim, who had been watching from a distance, didn't miss the exchange. He sauntered over, curiosity getting the better of him. "So, you know her?"
Brandon stiffened, his expression closing off. "Stay out of it, Tim."
Tim chuckled, undeterred. "Sure, but let me guess—she's here to stir up some trouble?"
Brandon didn't answer, but the tension in his jaw was answer enough. Tim grinned, sensing he'd stumbled onto something interesting. He glanced over at Anika, who was watching Brayden, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if measuring his reaction to Quincy's arrival. It was all a web of emotions and hidden motives that Tim didn't fully understand yet, but he was intrigued.
As night fell, Tim found himself thinking about Quincy. There was something about her that didn't quite add up. And then there was the way both brothers had reacted to her—Brayden's lingering gaze, Brandon's discomfort. It was like she was the missing piece in a puzzle he hadn't realized was there.
He shrugged off the thought, telling himself it didn't matter. But he couldn't shake the feeling that Quincy's arrival was only the beginning of a larger, more complicated story. Laughing at the thought of Quincy being the spice to the princes's lives, he drifted the sleep.
---
The next day was just like the previous day probably even more chatty as the academy was still abuzz with Quincy's arrival, but Tim had his own theories brewing. "Rumors, rumors, rumors, I need the real deal" Tim muttered to himself watching everyone chat on various topics about Quincy return. He'd spent the better part of last night thinking of everyone's reaction to her, filing away little details as he pieced together what she might mean to each of them. But that didn't mean he understood her—not yet. All he knew was that he wanted to.
Late in the afternoon, after everyone had settled from the initial shock of seeing Brayden's ex strolling the halls like she owned the place, Tim spotted Quincy slipping out of the library. He followed at a distance, curious if she might reveal anything about herself when she thought no one was watching. She moved with a practiced confidence, but there was something in the way she looked over her shoulder, something he recognized—a hint of wariness, maybe even vulnerability.
"Hey, new girl," he called, his voice a casual drawl as he caught up with her.
She glanced back, her expression a perfect mask of polite indifference. "Tim, right?"
"Right," he confirmed, slipping into step beside her. "You seem to know your way around already. Got a map, or do you just have a thing for old academy buildings?"
Quincy's lips curved slightly. "I'm a fast learner." Her tone was cool, detached, but Tim noticed a flicker of something in her eyes, like she was assessing him, even if she'd never admit it. "Besides, I've been here before."
Tim raised an eyebrow. "Really? Don't remember seeing you."
"You wouldn't have," she said, her gaze shifting ahead as if to end the conversation. "But people like you don't notice everyone."
Tim smirked, unbothered by the jab. "People like me?"
Quincy's gaze met his, her dark eyes holding his with an intensity that took him by surprise. "The kind who only pay attention to things that interest them." She let that linger for a beat before adding, "But I guess you're paying attention now."
There was a challenge in her tone, and Tim felt it tug at something within him—a mixture of annoyance and fascination. "Guess I am. But it seems like you're used to it," he shot back, his voice light but his gaze steady.
Quincy didn't reply, but her silence was answer enough. Tim could tell she was used to people's attention, though she didn't seem to crave it. It was like she kept people close enough to notice her but far enough to never really see her.
Across the training grounds, Brandon was watching the exchange between Tim and Quincy, his face unreadable. Nearby, Brayden was sparring with another student, his moves sharp and precise but lacking the usual ease he carried. Brandon couldn't help but notice the edge to his brother's fighting, the way his jaw clenched each time he caught a glimpse of Quincy.
"Still hung up on her?" Brandon couldn't resist asking as he moved to his brother's side, trying to keep his tone casual.
Brayden shot him a dark look. "What's it to you?"
Brandon shrugged, crossing his arms. "Nothing. Just figured since you never talk about her, you'd moved on."
Brayden scoffed, rolling his shoulders to loosen up. "You think I care she's back? She's a distraction, that's all."
"Sure," Brandon said, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Just a distraction." But his gaze lingered on Quincy and Tim, a strange tension building in his chest that he didn't quite understand.
Brayden's eyes narrowed as he followed his brother's gaze. "Why do you care what she does?"
Brandon paused, considering his response. He hadn't expected Quincy to approach him earlier or the look she'd given him—a look that had stirred old memories he'd thought were long buried. "I don't," he said finally, but the hesitation in his voice betrayed him.
Brayden didn't miss it, and his expression darkened. "Good. Because she's none of your business."
The edge in his brother's tone wasn't lost on Brandon, and a flicker of anger flared within him. But he tamped it down, refusing to let Brayden provoke him. He knew his brother well enough to recognize the jealousy simmering beneath the surface.
Later that evening, Tim found himself sparring with Anika. She'd been quieter than usual, her focus intense as she dodged his moves and countered with precision. But Tim noticed her gaze drifting to Brayden whenever she thought he wasn't looking, her expression a mix of frustration and something else—a longing she didn't seem able to hide.
"So, you and Brayden, huh?" he teased, blocking her punch with a grin.
Anika's cheeks flushed, but she didn't deny it. Instead, she rolled her eyes, delivering a swift jab that nearly caught him off guard. "Not everything's about romance, Tim."
"Oh, but this is," he replied, stepping back to avoid her follow-up. "Don't worry, I get it. Tall, broody, kinda the prince of the academy. What's not to like?"
Anika shot him a glare, though there was a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "And what about you? Since you're so perceptive, maybe you should start paying attention to yourself."
He shrugged, unbothered. "I'm just here for the thrill. All that complicated stuff—relationships, feelings—sounds like too much work."
Anika's expression softened, and Tim noticed her gaze linger on him a little longer than usual. "Sometimes complicated things are worth it," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
For a brief moment, Tim felt a strange warmth in his chest, an unexpected fondness for Anika that left him uncertain. He didn't know what to make of it, but he pushed the feeling aside, deciding it was just the heat of the moment. Or maybe the way she looked at him, like she saw something in him he wasn't sure he believed himself.
Quincy, meanwhile, had settled into the academy's rhythm, though her purpose here weighed heavily on her mind. She knew she was meant to keep Tim close, to earn his trust without drawing attention. But the familiar faces, especially Brandon and Brayden, stirred memories she hadn't prepared to confront.
As she made her way to her dorm that night, she ran into Brandon. They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them palpable.
"Why are you here, really?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
Quincy's expression softened, though she kept her tone neutral. "I told you. I'm just here to learn."
Brandon's jaw tightened, but he didn't press further. He could tell she was hiding something, but part of him didn't want to know. They both knew her return had thrown things off balance, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was drawing her to him again.
Before he could respond, Brayden appeared, his gaze hard as he looked between the two of them. "Got somewhere else to be, Quincy?" His voice was flat, but there was an underlying challenge in his tone.
Quincy hesitated, her gaze flicking from Brandon to Brayden, before she turned on her heel and walked away without a word. Brandon watched her go, his fists clenched as he felt Brayden's glare on him.
"You're playing with fire," Brayden muttered, his voice low.
Brandon's gaze hardened, meeting his brother's eyes with a defiance he rarely showed. "Maybe. But so are you."
As night fell, each of them was left alone with their thoughts. Tim couldn't shake the feeling that something big was brewing beneath the surface, a web of emotions and rivalries he hadn't fully grasped. Anika was torn about her frustration with Brayden. And Quincy… she was left standing in the shadows, torn between her mission and the ghosts of a past that had once meant something more.
They were all on the edge of something—a line between friendship and rivalry, between duty and desire. And Tim could feel it pulling him in, whether he wanted to be a part of it or not.