Rogue Royalty

by Rebecca Ethington

  Thankfully, the hall was empty, Cail having placed me in one of the largest dorms in the school, in a hall normally reserved for teachers. It would have been nondescript if it wasn’t for a plaque with our family name overhead. ‘R. Krul’ He should have hired one of the Chosen to keep a giant neon sign above me at all times.

  ‘Make way, the king's third son, Rowan Krul, brooding Eternal and your last chance to mate into the Royals coming through.’

  I could feel the darn thing blinking above me as I moved toward the excited voices, toward the shuffling of feet and catcalls as everyone prepared for the first day of a school they had dreamed about their whole lives.

  Everything grew quiet the moment I stepped into the main hall. Tables of fruit, muffins, oatmeal, and piles of cereal were left forgotten as every single head turned toward me, hundreds of identical expressions peering right at me.

  Oh damn. I kept my head high and wandered in. All of the propriety training Father had forced us into was good for something.

  “That’s him isn’t it?”

  “Oh, he’s as handsome as his brother.”

  “Oh my god, look at his hair. He’s so cool.”

  Voices followed me as I weaved my way toward the last remaining empty stretch of a table, watching the wooden bench fill up as dozens of Golden’s realized where I was headed and changed their seats to match.

  I was about to grab some toast and seek shelter in my cousin Analine’s classroom when a shriek broke through the banter. The sound pulled everyone to silence, the irritating resonance slicing down my spine like a knife.

  “Rowy! Rowy, over here.”

  Rowy? No one called me that. Possibly, because it was the stupidest nickname I had ever heard. Well, except to the girl who was now frantically waving to me from where she sat at a table on the other side of the room, surrounded by a dozen brand new Chosen. I recognized them at once. They were the children of many of the elected Chosen leaders who had breezed in and out of the royal families offices for much of my life.

  I tried not to groan, really I did, but it seeped out as I forced a smile her way, giving her the tiniest of waves. It was enough. She shrieked and raced across the room, pushing an Undermortal out of her way. I could feel her magic prod against me the closer she came, the wave of her perfume assaulting me.

  Oh god, that smell from the carriage yesterday wasn’t an accident.

  “Rowy!” She continued with the damn nickname as if I liked it, it was all I could do to keep the smile plastered on my face. “I was so worried you would miss breakfast. I saved you a seat and some toast, just in case.”

  I would say the gesture was nice if she didn’t wave to half a dozen people as she weaved her arm through mine, practically dragging me after her. Taking the long way, of course.

  I wasn’t sure if I was on parade, or she was.

  “Guys. This is Rowan,” She spoke at full voice the second we were in earshot of her friends. If earshot counted for yelling distance. More heads turned, more eyes swooned, more hopefuls smiled before their faces fell in shock.

  I forced myself to smile and wave. Although, not to the snot-nosed Goldens she was trying to introduce me to, but to the few girls at the table we were walking by. And the guys who were staring two tables over, and to a pretty blond Undermortal who blushed so deeply even her hair went pink.

  That made me smile more, it was cute… oh god, I sounded like Talon. I needed to back this truck right up. That was not a trip to douche-bag lane I was hoping to take.

  “Rowan is King Ilyan and Queen Joclyn's son.” Geeze thanks for pointing out the obvious. “He will be eating with us.” Sia continued through a tick in her jaw as I continued to smile and wave at everyone. She had obviously seen and not approved of my momentary lapse in royal judgment. “Rowan and I are together.”

  I collapsed onto the wooden bench she had been settling into with a thud, her arm wound around mine so tight that I almost dragged her down in my near collapse. Her high-pitched giggle resonated in my ear as she fell into me, forcing the irritating sounds even though she fixed me with a scorned expression. I guess she thought she didn’t have to put on a show now that she had kissed me in front of everyone.

  Yeah, time to put a stop to that.

  "I am showing her around Imdalind Academy for the first little bit," I corrected her. Saying it out loud made the whole thing seem more ridiculous. We were both new here, how was I supposed to show her around someplace I had only been twice before?

  She didn't seem to care about semantics, her long-nailed fingers pressed into my forearm, her magic flaring in a murky rage that was pressing against me in what I am sure she thought was a warning. I had the good sense to smother myself in a shield before she touched me, there was no way I was letting her magic mix with mine again any time soon.

  "What he means,” she said with an elongated warning, her fingers pressing into me, “is that daddy was worried I would be scared after everything that happened, so the King agreed to have Rowan escort me.”

  Her magic was boiling now, the same heat burning through the murky brown of her eyes as she peered into me. Even though she was smiling, laughing, the warning was screaming against me like nails pounding into the back of my skull. Every muscle in my back tensed.

  "I think we hit it off in the carriage yesterday, don't you?"

  Her fingers pressed harder against my forearms, a bit of magic trying to break through. Stronger shield up!

  "Are you going to introduce me to your friends?" I asked desperate for a change of subject.

  "Ah yes," she instantly brightened, thankfully shifting away from whatever tongue swapping she had been hoping for. "This is Tasha." She gestured to the girl with long ruddy hair and enough constellations on her face she could be her own solar system. "Melinda, Carly, Em, Joseph." She gestured to the four others who were all staring at me with different arrays of wonder. "And Miko."

  “We’ve met,” he grinned, extending his hand.

  “Yes, a few times if I recall.”

  Miko was broad shouldered, a mess of dark hair falling over deep green-blue eyes. He smiled with all the smug arrogance I had come to expect of the Goldens, and my brother. He reminded me so much of Talon it was making me uncomfortable. He shook my hand with what he had hoped was some kind of cool magic trick. All that happened, however, was that his palm warmed, a little white spark fizzling from the tip of his thumb.

  I chose to ignore it and his face fell.

  "Nice to meet you all," I said, scooting away from Sia in an attempt to find some breathing room. She countered it, scooting even closer and giving me what I am sure she thought were lovesick eyes. Thankfully my cousin had chosen that moment to stand from the ornate staff table at the top of the hall and turn to face us, a wide smile stretching over his face.

  "Welcome!" He announced, his voice magically enhanced and pulling the focus of every formerly chattering student. "Another year in Imdalind Academy has begun. What a wonderful year it will be! With more new students than ever before, powerful new friends, and a whole new generation of Chosen born into our family. Welcome all to this, our seventieth year!”

  Cail raised his hands high, smiling over everyone as they all cheered and stomped their feet until the old wooden rafter rattled.

  “Imdalind Academy has trained and created Chosen from all walks of life, as they learn and grow. As they find their place among their peers and among the four branches of magic holders that walk this world. The Skȓíteks: The powerful magic of love and light, the guards of our world.”

  Before he had even finished speaking, the room had exploded, the groups of older students who had tested closest to the Skȓítek magic line erupting in pride.

  “The Trpaslíks: Breakers of rock and manipulators of fire. The Builders.” More screams, more whoops and hollers as they pounded feet against floor and knives against tables. Cail’s’ face spread into a wide smile. As one of the few true Trpaslíks left, he had every right to be proud.

>   “The Vilỳ: Power of air and water, the peacemakers. The artists and those who guide the world in every way.” Unsurprisingly, every Golden around me moved into a cheer. New magic users always wanted to be like the Vilỳ. Not that I blamed them, on paper they were so strong, so power hungry. In person, Rinax was irritating.

  “The Drak.” Cail gave no explanation, which was fine. The room had gone eerily silent, not one of the Chosen calling out in support of the deranged power. Although I could have sworn more than a few heads turned my way given my parentage.

  Or rather, my mother.

  “Each magic is a pillar in our world. Their gifts and contribution to this school and to our community is a tradition we are proud of,” he continued after a moment, “and one that we will continue to cultivate as we bring so many people together and unite our people.”

  I swallowed, willing my back to stay straight. It was clear my father had written this portion of the speech. It wasn’t going to work nearly as well as they hoped it would.

  “We hope that all of our new students, no matter where they come from or what their journeys to these halls may be, will seek to strengthen themselves and find friends in places there once were enemies as we all work together to bring our people together.”

  He paused, but instead of applause there were only hushed whispers from the other side of the hall. The sounds filled the cavernous room like a sack of bees. I lifted my head, peering over hundreds of heads to where one tickling laugh had broken through. The sound calloused, if not a little beautiful. They were all clustered together, fake smiles plastered to their faces as they looked up to Cail. Even with the uniform, the Undermortals stuck out. Colored hair, piercings, tattoos painted over their skin.

  Cail shifted, straightening his jacket before he leaned over the podium and boomed in a voice that was too full of scorn for him.

  “Here is to a great year, and to a great first day! Here is to a powerful future.”

  Dad hadn’t written that.

  I stared at him, Sia knocking against me as she hissed about getting to class. I didn't even flinch as she planted a kiss against my cheek and took off. I sat staring at my cousin. Magic burned against the back of my neck as he smiled at me, his last words burning against my heart just as violently.

  Yes, the speech was clearly written by my dad, but not all of it.

  Keeping my eyes on my cousin, I stood with my bag in my hand and jacket over my shoulder and left the hall trying not to drag my feet too much as I made my way to class.

  The whispers and turned heads followed me through each dark stone hall, many of the goldens even going so far as stopping in place to watch me pass. Judging by the strength and control of the magic that surrounded me it was clear that more than one of my rubberneckers weren't first-years either. Magic pressed into me at every angle, assaulting me as they tried to sense my power. To connect with me.

  I could already tell that my shield was not going to come down anytime soon. Thank god Ryland had taught me how to shield my magic completely, I didn't need any curious onlooker getting any hint about the dangers that were brewing inside of me.

  The halls may still be full of students, but every desk in my classroom, save two were full, eager faces turned up to me the second I entered. Did everyone know my schedule? The only saving grace was that Sia's wide toothy grin wasn't staring up at me, or plastered to my side. Didn't make any of the eager eyes any less traumatic.

  "Good morning, Rowan," my cousin Analine said with a grin that was far too knowing. "Glad you could join us. Your seat will be your seat for the semester. So, choose wisely."

  She gave me a wink, god maybe she was as much trouble as her mother. She knew exactly what she was doing.

  Every eye followed me as I stepped through the desks, moving closer to the two chairs that were placed side by side. Which will it be? The chair surrounded by brunettes, or the chair surrounded by blondes. What was this class, made up of a million girls and me? Oh wait, the boys had occupied the seats around the edge, looking at me like I had already stolen their spoils of the hormone war.

  Trust me, dudes, they are all yours.

  I had no sooner sunk into the seat on the left, giving all of the collective blondes around me a sigh of relief when the door to the classroom slammed open, banging against the opposite wall and sending a few cracks through the old plaster. Everyone around me jumped, but I was frozen in place, jaw locked as she walked in.

  Fishnet stockings, combat boots, bubble gum pink hair that fell in graceful ringlets over her bright violet eyes. She hadn't even bothered to cover the tattoos on her arms, or neck. The dark lines danced over her skin in a million stories that I wanted to trace. Wanted to understand.

  "Whoops. Sorry to interrupt. I didn’t mean to be late, first day and all." She didn't sound sorry. Analine wasn't buying it. She stared at her, fuming as she clopped through the silent classroom in those massive boots, clearly making as much sound as she could as she weaved her way to the last open seat in the class. The one right next to me.

  The blondes looked pissed.

  "Nice tie, your majesty," she said, giving me a wink and a pop of her gum before she threw her shit-stained boots onto the desk, crossing her ankles and sitting back in her chair like something I had seen in a TV show Aunt Wyn had shown me once.

  I had forgotten about my tie. It was still untied around my neck, the top two buttons of my shirt were open, my jacket was thrown over the chair. In fact, we were the only two in the classroom that weren't in perfectly pressed uniforms. Even the Undermortals at the back had worn the full ensemble.

  "I'm ready, Teach. Educate me about your glittering perfect history." She leaned forward, peering at Analine over her boots. "I want to know about all the damn lies."

  Everyone around us gasped, appalled as she popped her gum again, the Undermortals in the back of the room snickering.

  I sat, staring at her as she threw me another wink, the simple action sending my magic into overdrive.

  I was having trouble controlling it. It had been hard enough keeping myself in check after she had ripped the Gauntlet to shreds. Then she had been shackled and escorted by my parents to gods knows where. But now, she was right there.

  I had spent years dreaming of the girl who was now inches from me, the tangle wood scent of the shampoo she had used drifting over to me and testing my control even further.

  Her spunky winks faded when she caught me staring.

  "Didn't your fucking parents teach you any manners?" Her eyes darkened as she hissed, just as Analine started the class, introducing herself as Professor Krul and spouting off facts about herself that I had either known or witnessed through my entire life.

  The rest of the class was a blur, a blur of dizzying magic and terrifying buzzing that jumped between my fingers as I tried to control myself. I felt like I did when I was a child and accidentally blew up the bathroom for the third time. Like I was about to explode.

  She was more than a girl who had haunted my dreams for years.

  She was a goddamned fuse.

  I burst out of my seat and down the hallway the second class was dismissed, desperate to get away from the smell of her, the magic of her. I left a string of pouty girls behind me. I needed air, or at least the chance to get some of this energy out that was trying to take control. I still had one more class before my class with Cail, which if I was lucky would be nothing more than a daily chess match.

  I was surely going to explode long before then, seeing as Gemma cut me off, hand on the frame of the door I was about to duck through.

  "Let me see that," she said, popping a bubble that matched her hair as she took my schedule from my hand, eyes widening as she scanned it, keeping a finger with a big ugly burn on it away from the paper. "Looks like someone has a death wish."

  She winked again, handed me back my schedule and left me standing, jaw agape as she smiled, chuckling. I must have looked like I had been punched.

  "Nice monsters," she sai
d as she dodged me and skipped into my next class. Our next class.

  If I had to guess, she was going to be in nearly all of them.

  3

  Gemma

  I had never done anything so mind-numbingly boring as attend school. Sitting in classes, being lectured at about how to produce sparks, shields, fire, and a million other things that I already knew how to do was testing my patience in ways I would have assumed impossible. Except now, thanks to the nasty dust that Mira had implanted in my heart, I had to relearn them. I had to figure out how to do them the ‘right way’, two words I was actively rebelling against.

  I was only three days into my mind-numbing four-year education at Imdalind Academy and I was already sure I was slowly melting from the inside out.

  If they could make a Prince go through with it, it was clear there was no way I could talk myself out of it. I did, however, have the solace that he looked as bored as I did. Which made messing with him even more entertaining.

  If I had to make nice with the guy in order to get my powers back, and perhaps get closer to the royal family, I was going to do it.

  "He's looking at you again," Eddy whispered in my ear, cutting through my buzz of thought as the chatter of the lunchroom increased in volume.

  “Good,” I whispered, refusing to look back at the prince and instead scooped more fruit onto my plate. “That’s the whole point, Ed. Tease him, befriend him, use him.”

  At least I had been able to accomplish something in between the mind-melting numbness of class.

  “No, I mean, he’s really looking at you. Did you flash him or something? Because this is a stalker level stare you are getting.” Eddy leaned over to where I was picking at the overcooked peas on my plate and hissed in my ear. I batted him away like he was a fly and took another bite of the fruit that I had recently become obsessed with.

  This whole place was made of food. Not only were the expensive ice chests in each dorm room loaded with delicacies, but piles of anything and everything lined the massive tables in the cafeteria three times a day. Much of it was left uneaten and forgotten when students got up and left, leaving the Undermortals to pocket as much of it as they could before leaving to their next class, or their dorms, or any number of places.