"Sure," Elion said mildly. "Lioness, then."
Lyra froze.
Then exploded.
"I—I-I'M LEAVING!" she shouted, face red to the tips of her ears. "Stupid Elion—calling me cute—!"
"That's not what I said," Elion muttered under his breath, amused.
Lyra ignored him entirely, storming off with all the dignity of a drenched housecat, tail sticking out straight behind her.
The moment she disappeared around the corner...
Isolde collapsed.
"Pff—pff—HAHAHAHA—!"
She bent over, clutching her stomach, laughter bursting out of her in bright, uncontrollable waves.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"A-A lioness—!! Elion—!! Hahaha—!!"
Elion just raised a brow. "It wasn't that funny."
"It—was—!!" she gasped between breaths. "Her—her face—!!!!"
She fell onto her knees, wheezing.
Elion's lips twitched despite himself.
Aria watched the scene unfold—
Isolde laughing herself breathless.
Elion smiling at her reaction.
Lyra fleeing in embarrassment.
She smiled, too.
A calm, gentle curve of the lips.
Perfectly crafted.
But it did not touch her eyes.
Not even a little.
Laughter suits her, Aria thought coldly.
Such a shame if something were to silence it forever.
...
Across the training hall, one of William's lackeys, Jared, nudged him sharply.
"Boss… look." He jerked his chin toward Elion.
William followed his gaze, and his expression soured instantly.
Elion was talking with Isolde. Laughing. Relaxed. Like he belonged there.
"Tch." William's lip curled. "Since when is that trash acting all popular?"
Another lackey leaned in, arms crossed. "He thinks he's hot stuff now? Just because he beat one person? Pathetic."
Jared scoffed. "Boss, when are we gonna put him back where he belongs?"
William exhaled through his nose, a slow, irritated sound.
"I was going to wait a few more days…" He cracked his knuckles, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "But looking at him right now? I think I've waited enough."
The three lackeys grinned, excitement flashing in their eyes. The kind that only came from following someone rotten.
"So what's the plan?" one asked eagerly.
William leaned forward, voice low and cold.
"We catch him right after practice. He always walks alone through the garden path behind the south wing, right? Hardly anyone passes through there."
The others nodded.
"We'll corner him," William continued. "Drag him somewhere quiet. Remind him of his place." His smile sharpened. "And beat some sense back into him."
The lackeys exchanged vicious grins.
"Boss always knows how to handle things."
William waved a hand lazily. "Obviously. Now, someone go find Mira. She's supposed to be here, not wandering around doing whatever she wants."
Jared blinked. "You worried she's messing around?"
William clicked his tongue. "No. I'm annoyed. I'm getting tired of her attitude lately."
The lackeys laughed.
"Boss, you always say that."
"Yeah, well—" William leaned back, eyes drifting across the training hall until they landed on someone else. His smile changed. Darkened. "This time for real, let's just say my tastes might be shifting."
"I'm getting tired of playing with her in bed anyway. Maybe it's time for some fresh meat."
"Boss can have anyone he wants."
"You know who I really want?"
"Oh, who does the boss have in mind?"
The guys leaned in, curious.
William nodded in a certain direction.
Toward Isolde.
His gaze lingered on her. Hungry. Possessive. Ugly.
William grins wolfishly as he leered at her, his eyes glinting with hunger.
He eyes her from the feet up, his gaze curving at the contour of her hips.
His haze growing momentarily disappointed when it swept over her chest.
"Her," he says, nodding in her direction, licking his lips like a predator. "I want her."
The guys look at each other, then back at their leader, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement.
"The quiet elf?" Jared asks, clearly intrigued by Willia's choice.
Willia lets out a low chuckle. "Yeah, her," he confirms, his gaze still fixed on Isolde. "I bet her moans are something else."
He snorts derisively. "She may be lacking in the chest department, but her face..." He trails off, shaking his head appreciatively. "It's on another level."
The group bursts into uproarious laughter, the sound echoing through the hallway.
William grins, his ego boosted by their reaction. "So, what do you say? Ready to help me claim my prize?"
His lackeys exchange looks, then nod in unison, their smiles just as sinister as their leader's. "Of course, boss! Anything for you!"
Willia claps his hands together, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Good. I'll need a plan. I'm going to wipe that arrogant look of her face."
A slow, pleased exhale escaped him.
They snickered among themselves.
"Boss really knows how to pick 'em."
William smirked, eyes never leaving her.
"Of course I do."
Their laughter erupted again, loud and mean, blending with the noise of the hall, utterly unnoticed by the people they were watching.
...
Aria stood there frozen, her smile too perfect, too composed, until Elion took a step toward her.
A single, deliberate step.
She stiffened, breath catching quietly in her throat.
"E-Elion…?" Her voice trembled, betraying emotions she was desperately trying to bury.
Her hands lifted halfway to her chest in a flustered flutter.
A bashful, girlish smile tugged at her lips, utterly unguarded.
He didn't answer. Didn't explain.
He simply reached up, slowly, almost lazily, until his fingertips brushed her cheek.
The touch was featherlight, barely there.
Aria's entire body jolted as if struck by lightning.
Her eyes widened, lashes trembling.
Her shoulders tensed, fingers curling inward, a soft, involuntary sound slipping past her lips, half gasp, half whisper.
Then his finger glided along her skin, trailing warmth, and gently tucked a loose strand of her shoulder-length light-blue bob behind her ear.
".....!"
Her breath hitched.
Her knees nearly gave out.
The mask she wore so carefully, so expertly, cracked, then shattered completely.
Her face turned rosy, then crimson, then glowing red, a helpless, girlish smile spreading across her lips.
Her eyes softened, unfocused, dreamy.
She looked like someone had stolen her rationality and replaced it with butterflies.
Behind them—
Isolde utterly malfunctioned.
She looked from Aria to Elion, then back to Aria, her mouth slowly falling open.
"W–W–WHAT… are… you… doing!?" she choked out, pointing weakly, her entire body glitching like a dying puppet.
Elion only chuckled, warm and maddeningly calm."Fixing her hair."
Isolde stared at him, horrified."F–Fixing— You— You— WOMANIZER!"
Her face turned scarlet, fists balling so tightly her knuckles went white.
"If you do that again— I— I— just— JUST—!"
She couldn't even finish her threat. She just stomped her foot, sputtering incoherently.
Aria, meanwhile, was giggling under her breath, shoulders rising shyly, like a girl in the middle of her first crush.
And then—
A sharp clap echoed through the hall.