By the time final period ended, Mira had already collected:
• 42 stares
• 19 whispers
• 7 "Did you see what she said?!"
• And one note passed in class that simply read:
"You are my hero. Don't die."
She crumpled it into her pocket.
Leo waited for her at the exit, swinging his backpack like he had no worries in life. "Ready for your royal execution?" he asked brightly.
"I'm not being executed," Mira muttered.
"At Aristella?" Leo said. "You never know. They might throw you in a dungeon made of homework."
Mira groaned. "Where's the Headmaster's office?"
Leo pointed down a hallway so long it could host a marathon. "Walk straight. Turn left at the statue of Adrian's grandfather, the one that looks like it's judging your bank account. Then turn right at the hallway that smells like old money."
"Everything here smells like old money."
"I know," Leo sighed dreamily. "Isn't it wonderful?"
Mira lightly punched his arm. "Stop being weird."
He laughed and nudged her onward. "Good luck. If you need a getaway driver, call me."
"I will," she said.
(It was half a joke. Half not.)
The Headmaster's office door was tall, dark, and too elegant for comfort. Mira stared at it, took a breath, and entered.
The room looked like a museum: gold-trimmed shelves, velvet chairs, and portraits of ancestors who probably oppressed someone. In the center sat the Headmaster, a calm woman with silver hair and sharp eyes that saw everything.
"Miss Lawson," she said in a voice that could butter toast, "please sit."
Mira sat. Mostly because the chair looked too expensive to argue with.
The Headmaster folded her hands. "Your first day has been…eventful."
Mira frowned. "I didn't spill the coffee on purpose."
"No one thinks you did."
(Pause.)
"Except the prince."
Mira rolled her eyes. "That boy needs a hobby."
The Headmaster's lip twitched. "Be cautious with your words. Prince Adrian is…a sensitive topic."
Mira leaned back. "That sounds like a personal problem."
A choking sound came from somewhere behind her.
Mira turned slightly, and realized someone else was in the room.
Prince Adrian.
Arms crossed.
Leaning against a marble column like he was posing for a royal drama poster.
Eyes narrowed.
Expression carved from pure irritation.
"Did you just call me a personal problem?" he asked.
"No," Mira said. "I called your attitude a personal problem. You happen to own the attitude."
The Headmaster inhaled sharply. "Miss Lawson, "
"No, let her speak," Adrian said.
He stepped forward, the royal version of stalking. "I asked you to attend this meeting for a reason."
"Really?" Mira asked. "I thought it was because you missed me."
Adrian's jaw clenched so hard the temperature in the room dropped five degrees.
The Headmaster cleared her throat. "Prince Adrian is here because he filed a formal complaint about your conduct."
Mira raised a brow. "He complained about me? He's the one who raised his voice like a malfunctioning robot."
Adrian stepped closer. "You embarrassed the royal family."
"You embarrassed yourself," Mira snapped. "I just assisted."
A second choking sound came from the hallway. The secretary was definitely listening in.
The Headmaster held up both hands. "Enough."
Silence fell like a hammer.
"Mira Lawson," she said, "the nation watches the Lucky Star. Your presence represents hope for equality. You must…adapt."
Mira stiffened. "Adapt? You mean behave like I'm grateful for every drop of disrespect thrown my way?"
"That's not what I said."
"But that's what you meant," Mira said firmly.
Adrian's eyes flickered. For a moment, a small, tiny moment, he looked almost…impressed. But it vanished quickly.
"Mira," the Headmaster continued, "Aristella is a place of diplomacy. You must be careful."
"Careful is not in my DNA," Mira replied. "But fairness is. I won't let anyone talk to me like I'm a shoe."
Adrian stared. "A…shoe?"
"Shoe. Footwear. Something stepped on," Mira clarified. "You're a smart prince. Figure it out."
The Headmaster exhaled with the soul of a tired grandmother. "Miss Lawson, I will not punish you. However, there will be consequences."
"I didn't do anything wrong," Mira insisted.
"You challenged royalty," Adrian said.
"And I'll do it again," Mira shot back. "Stop looking at people like they exist to polish you."
The air turned electric.
Even the furniture seemed to hold its breath.
The Headmaster finally stood. "Both of you will attend a reconciliation session. Together."
Adrian's head whipped around. "Absolutely not."
Mira folded her arms. "Pass."
"It is mandatory," the Headmaster said. "For both of you. The press is already making assumptions. We must repair the Academy's image."
"Repair it?" Mira laughed. "You mean 'fix the prince's ego'?"
Adrian took a step forward. "You were chosen because you're supposed to inspire the nation, not behave like a street brawler."
"You don't know anything about the street," Mira said sharply. "If you did, you'd know that respect goes both ways."
The Headmaster sighed. "Reconciliation session. Tomorrow. 8 AM. That is final."
Adrian glared. Mira glared back.
The Headmaster turned to Mira. "You may go. Prince Adrian will remain."
Mira stood up. "Good. Maybe you can teach him some manners."
Adrian's eyebrow twitched. "Out," he said through clenched teeth.
She walked past him slowly, deliberately.
Then paused.
Looked him dead in the eyes.
And said, "For someone raised to be king, you don't seem to understand one simple thing."
Adrian leaned in slightly. "And what is that?"
Mira smiled.
"A crown doesn't give you character."
The room collectively died.
She turned and left, head held high.
Silence.
Heavy, shocked, almost holy silence.
Then Adrian whispered behind her:
"…infuriating girl."
She didn't turn back.
But she absolutely smirked.