The carriage jolted to a stop, and I stepped out, my boots meeting the cobblestones with a soft echo. The Royal Academy loomed before us, a fortress of knowledge and power. Its towering gates were a reminder that this wasn't a school—it was a battlefield.
Isaac followed behind me, his eyes wide with awe. He had no idea what awaited him, but I did. I knew this place for what it truly was—a breeding ground for ambition, power struggles, and manipulation. And I was here not to thrive, not to rise in the ranks, but to survive.
My purpose was simple: to watch over Isaac, ensure his survival, and report to Father. That was my only role in this story. The world would twist around Isaac, but it didn't matter to me. I had no illusions about the path that lay ahead for him.
I glanced at Isaac. He looked eager, hopeful. His youthful excitement would serve him well, at least for now. But the moment that hope met reality, things would change. In this world, kindness and righteousness wouldn't get you far.
We were led through the gates by a tall, stern man in the Academy's official robes. His gaze lingered on us, especially Isaac, but I could see the calculation in his eyes. Everyone here had an agenda. That's what made the Academy dangerous.
"You are the Astoria brothers, correct?" The man's voice was neutral, but the way he said "Astoria" held weight. The name was notorious, and it carried its own burden of expectations.
"We are," I said, my voice steady. There was no need for hesitation, no room for uncertainty. I had to be Alden Astoria in every sense of the word. He wasn't someone who faltered or showed weakness.
He nodded, glancing at Isaac. "Your rooms have been prepared. You will begin your orientation shortly."
Isaac's gaze flickered to the grand marble building ahead of us. His excitement was palpable, but I kept my expression neutral. This place was a jungle, and Isaac was a naive lamb walking into it. I couldn't afford to let him get lost in the labyrinth of this world.
As we made our way into the Academy, the grand interior revealed itself—stone walls adorned with tapestries depicting past heroes and rulers. The air was thick with power, with the weight of centuries of bloodshed and ambition hanging in every corner. This was no place for sentimentality.
We were shown to our rooms, two suites near each other in a wing dedicated to noble families. The door to Isaac's room was open, revealing a space that matched his station—a lavish bed, a fireplace, and large windows offering a view of the Academy grounds. But despite the luxury, it all felt cold. This wasn't home. It was a prison, albeit gilded in fine gold.
Isaac stepped inside, already taking in his surroundings. I stood still for a moment, just outside the door to my own room, looking down at the stone floors beneath me. This was the place where everything could change. But I wasn't here to make waves.
I turned to Isaac. "Stay close. Don't trust anyone. Not even the teachers."
Isaac gave me a confused glance, but I didn't have time to explain. He would learn soon enough. But for now, I had to play my part. I wasn't here to interfere with his destiny. I was here to survive.
I had no personal stake in what Isaac would become, no desire to influence his future. But I would make sure he didn't die—at least not until I could complete my task. My job was to report everything to Father. I would gather information, watch for any signs of danger, and make sure Isaac wasn't blindsided by the manipulations that lurked in every corner of this place.
I entered my own room, closing the door behind me with a soft click. The room was luxurious, as expected, but I didn't care about the comforts it offered. I wasn't here to indulge in the Academy's wealth. I was here to endure, to watch, and to report.
The game had started. And I was just a pawn, bound by duty and survival.