The cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday chaos—students lining up for food, cliques chatting at their tables, and the occasional burst of laughter. Amid the noise, a heated argument escalated near the center of the room.
Kael and Theron exchanged curious glances, pausing mid-bite.
"Trouble already?" Kael muttered, craning his neck to get a better look.
Theron sighed, "Looks like your vampire friend and his werewolf companion are squaring off with those gargoyles from earlier."
At the heart of the scene, the stocky werewolf girl stood toe-to-toe with a hulking gargoyle, her fists clenched. Beside her, the vampire boy looked as composed as ever, his sharp features set in an expression of mild irritation as he faced another stone-skinned adversary.
"You think you can just cut in line like that?" one of the gargoyles snarled, his voice a gravelly rumble.
The werewolf girl's voice was calm but sharp. "You really want to make a scene over cafeteria spaghetti?"
The larger gargoyle stepped forward, cracking his stone knuckles. "How about I show you what happens to line-cutters?"
Her lips curled into a feral grin. "Go ahead. Make my day."
The gargoyle lunged, and chaos erupted.
The werewolf girl ducked under a swinging fist and retaliated with a punch that echoed like a hammer striking stone. Meanwhile, the vampire moved with effortless grace, sidestepping his opponent and delivering a swift kick to the back of the gargoyle's knees, sending him crashing to the floor.
Kael leaned back in his seat, smirking. "You gotta admit, they've got style."
"They're efficient," Theron agreed, munching on a breadstick.
The fight ended as quickly as it began. The werewolf girl loomed over the gargoyle sprawled on the floor, crossing her arms. "Still feeling tough?"
The gargoyle grumbled something unintelligible before retreating, dragging his companion with him.
As the cafeteria buzzed with murmurs, the vampire and werewolf slid back into their seats. The girl leaned in immediately, her wild curls forming a curtain around them, her voice a harsh whisper.
"What is wrong with you?" she hissed after placing a doughnut shaped ornament on the table. It was used to keep other people from listening to their conversation, she glared at him like she was considering throttling him. "We're supposed to be low-key. Do you know what that means? Because cutting in line and fighting gargoyles doesn't scream 'blending in.'"
The vampire, Adrian, raised an elegant brow and leaned back, adjusting his perfectly tailored jacket. "It means being inconspicuous. Which I was, until they decided to be obnoxious."
"Obnoxious? They were just getting their food!"
"They were slow," he countered, like it was a capital offense. "If I'd waited, lunch would've turned into dinner."
She pressed her palms to her temples. "You started a fight because of your lack of patience?"
"No," he said smoothly, "I started a fight because they called me a leech. Very uncivilized."
"Uncivilized?" Her voice dropped to a whisper so venomous it could melt steel. "You broke a gargoyle's nose with a tray."
He waved dismissively. "He'll heal. And his nose was asymmetrical anyway."
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "You're insufferable." he smirked.
She jabbed a finger into his chest, her voice barely audible now. "I followed you here because I knew you'd get into trouble the moment you left the capital. You're like a chaos magnet with fangs. If it weren't for me, you'd probably have started a war by now."
He grinned, fangs glinting. "You make it sound like a bad thing."
"It is a bad thing, Adrian," she snapped. "You're a prince. Do you know what that means?"
"That I'm above cafeteria etiquette?"
She groaned, slumping back in her seat. "Why do I even bother? You're impossible."
Adrian tilted his head, mock-thoughtful. "You know you'd miss me if I left you at the capital."
"Miss you?" She snorted. "I'd throw a party. Streamers, balloons, the whole deal."
He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "You wound me."
Across the cafeteria, Kael nudged Theron, . "Do you think she's always this stressed, or is he a special case?"
Theron finally glanced up. "Oh, he's definitely a special case."
Kael chuckled, watching as Lila threw up her hands in exasperation while Adrian continued to look smug. "I'd pay to sit closer to that table."
"She's using a whisper veil" Theron said, staring thoughtfully at the device on their table . "They don't seem ordinary ."
Back at their table, Lila narrowed her eyes at Adrian. "You do realize if anyone finds out who you are, it's going to be a problem, right? And by 'problem,' I mean 'a scandal big enough to make the capital implode.'"
He gave her a lazy smile. "Relax. No one's going to find out."
Lila buried her face in her hands. "You're going to be the death of me."
Adrian leaned in, his voice as serious as ever. "Don't worry. I'll make sure it's a very dignified death."
She shot him a glare so fierce it could've stopped a charging orc.
______
Bronn entered his room, as stoic and unbothered as ever, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He shrugged off his jacket, neatly hanging it on the back of his chair, and began unbuttoning his shirt. The silence of the room was almost therapeutic after the chaos of class. Without much fanfare, he grabbed a towel and headed toward the bathroom, his mind set on a quick, refreshing shower.
Outside his window, Aelric hovered, his wings beating softly to keep him aloft. The fairy had been planning this for days—ever since Bronn had sternly told him to "find another hobby" after his last prank, which involved filling Bronn's shoes with glitter. This time, Aelric had something even better planned.
A sly grin spread across his face as he eased the window open, careful not to make a sound. "Perfect," he whispered to himself. "He's probably still at class."
Inside, Bronn was already in the shower, oblivious to the impending chaos.
Aelric floated in, landing gracefully on the floor. He scanned the room, his eyes gleaming with mischief. His target: Bronn's meticulously organized bookshelf.
"Oh, this is going to be brilliant," Aelric muttered to himself, his mischievous grin widening as he pulled a tiny vial of shimmering fairy dust from his pocket. His wings fluttered softly in anticipation, a telltale sign of the delight he felt whenever one of his pranks was about to unfold.
He tiptoed toward Bronn's meticulously arranged bookshelf, the wooden floor creaking slightly under his light steps. Holding his breath, Aelric carefully unscrewed the vial's cap. "A pinch of this," he whispered, sprinkling the sparkling powder over the spine of a heavy, leather-bound tome, "and your oh-so-serious reading sessions will never be the same."
His plan was ingenious—or so he thought. The fairy dust would enchant Bronn's books, causing them to emit loud, mortifying sounds—think exaggerated kisses or the braying of a donkey—every time a page was turned. Aelric chuckled softly, his imagination running wild.
As he reached for another book, he murmured, "Maybe I'll make this one meow like a cat. Or bark like a dog! Oh, Bronn, you'll be the talk of the library…"
But just as his fingers grazed the spine of the next volume, a deep, resonant voice cut through the air like the chill of an icy wind.
"Aelric."