C3 Chapter Three: Ordinary Morning

Debra's pov

The dining hall smelled of bread and fish stew.

Trainees moved in the same loose groups, trays clattered, someone laughed too loudly near the far tables.

I took a seat at the edge of the empty third table and forced myself to eat.

I had barely torn a piece of bread when a familiar weight dropped onto the bench beside me.

I didn't look up. Richard.

“You vanished after drills yesterday,” he said quietly. “I checked the armoury, then the south yard, then your dorm. Twice.”

I kept my eyes on the crusty bread. “I was busy.”

“Busy getting your pride bruised by Xander, from what I heard.”

My jaw tightened.News travelled faster than smoke around here.

Richard leaned in a little. “You okay?”

He looked like he hadn’t slept well either, dark circles under kind viridian eyes, hair still damp.

He picked up his spoon carefully. I gave a short nod. “Fine.”

He didn’t push, that was the thing about Richard.

He never did. He’d been the first person to speak to me the day I arrived at the academy with nothing but a worn travel bag, and false papers.

He had simply handed me a spare practice blade and said, “You’ll need this more than manners.”

He was a year - three student, good with the blade, but better with a bow.I still didn’t know why he’d decided i was worth the trouble.

Across the hall, movement caught my silver eyes.

Draven sat with the senior cluster, posture easy, attention already turned in my direction. When our eyes met, he didn’t smile. He only tilted his head a fraction, like he was confirming something he had already decided.

I looked away first.

Lucien dropped into the seat opposite Richard and me without invitation, his sharp cheekbones lifted in a sharp smirk.

He was the very first person who had given me the urge to follow him and break something the minute I arrived at the academy. He had accosted me with his gang, taking my petite appearance as weakness.

Gold hair, expensive boots, the easy cruelty of someone born knowing he would never have to bleed for anything.

His tray was barely touched.

“Hey there, pretty face, heard you finally got put in your place,” he said, loud enough for the nearby tables to hear.

He had always been an attention seeker.

“Took longer than I expected though”

My fingers curled around my cup of ale at the nickname. My face had always been a problem. Too pretty. Too girly.

“Fuck off, Lucien.” Richard said firmly.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he ignored Richard. “Some of us actually bet money on how long you’d last against him.”

So they had been watching us, how had i not noticed.

He leaned forward, yellow eyes bright, the kind that thrived in places like this.“I lost a week’s wages.You should feel bad, at least”

Richard’s voice stayed calm, but there was steel under it. “Not now, Varr”

Lucien didn't bat an eye lid, his gaze slid back on me.

“You always did think you were special, didn't ya, arriving late in the term, no family name worth mentioning, somehow still getting away with private sessions. Must be nice having secrets.”

I met his eyes and smiled without warmth.

“Keep talking. One day that mouth of yours is going to get you exactly what it’s asking for.”

Lucien’s grin widened. He opened his mouth again.

And then the air at the table changed. An intimidating aura emerged. Xander strolled in and sat down on my other free side like he owned the bench.

He didn’t look at anyone else, no tray in hand. Just reached across, stole a piece of bread from my tray, and took a deliberate bite.

“Morning,” he said, voice still rough from sleep.

My entire body went tight.

Richard’s shoulders tensed.Lucien’s expression flickered between amusement and calculation.

Across the hall, Draven’s attention sharpened.

Xander chewed slowly, then glanced at my untouched meat.“You should eat. You’re going to need the energy.”

I kept my voice low. “Get away from me.”

“Can’t. We have unfinished business.” He turned the bread in his fingers, studying it like it was more interesting than the four people now staring at him. “You still owe me.”

I kept my eyes on my tray, but the table had already arranged itself around me.

Richard sat close enough that his concern was a physical weight. Xander occupied the space on my other side like he had every right to it, still holding the bread he had stolen without asking. Across from me, Lucien watched with the bright, ugly interest of someone who wanted a show. Four tables away, Draven kept his eyes on me and made no effort to hide it.

Different kinds of eyes, different kinds of danger.

I sorted them the way I sorted exits.

Xander was the real problem. He never moved like the rest of them. Too controlled, too clean. Too arrogant. He smiled like the world was a private joke, but his eyes never joined in. He had known who i was long before he used it against me. He always stood half a step ahead of whatever entered the yard, that was not instinct.That was information. And information meant he was already inside a game I had only just noticed.

Richard was different, and that made him dangerous in another way. He paid attention because he cared, not because he wanted anything from me. He noticed when I wasn't sleeping, when I'm with Xander, Loyalty like that was rare here, and rare things got used. Xander had already seen it. The moment Richard chose my side out loud, he stopped being safe. He became leverage. I trusted his intentions, i did not trust what would happen to him once someone sharper decided to pull.

Then there was Draven. He did not watch me the way the others did. He studied me, quietly and patiently, like a man turning an object over in his hands before deciding whether it was worth taking. He never looked surprised by the empty beds or by Xander’s interest or by Richard hovering too close. Men like Draven only paid attention when they had already started calculating a use for you. If he was looking, it was because I had already been placed on his side of the board.

Lucien was the simplest of them, and that made him easy to handle if I stayed careful. He wanted an audience more than he wanted anything. He picked at people the way bored dogs picked at weak places - loud, obvious, always watching for a reaction. Useful only as noise. Dangerous only if I let him drag me into something public.

Xander's eyes moved over my face, slower than necessary. “You also look like someone who spent the night replaying a problem. Want help with the math?”

“I want you to stop talking.”

“That’s never going to happen.” He leaned in slightly, enough that only I would catch the next words.

“Until I collect what I am owed, pussy” I folded my fists under the table.

“Whatever happened…” Richard started.

“.. doesn’t concern you.” Xander completed with cold eyes.

Richard held the stare longer than most people did.Then he stood, jaw tight, and left.

I watched him go and filed the tension away with everything else.

Xander turned back to me as if the interruption had been minor.

“You know,” he said casually, “I could make your little secret everyone’s problem.”

My eyes narrowed. “Try it.”

His smile widened. “Oh, I wasn't threatening you.” He paused. “I was informing you.”

I glanced between us, studying Xander’s expression. Knowing exactly what he wanted but still asked.

“What do you want?”

“Simple.” Xander took a sip from his cup. “You do what I ask, and your secret stays exactly where it is.”

“And if I don't?”

Xander tilted his head.“Then tomorrow morning, everyone at the academy learns that their newest recruit isn't a boy.”

My jaw tightened.“You wouldn't.”

“Wouldn't I?” His voice remained almost amused.

“That's the fun part. You don't actually know me well enough to answer that.”

“So,” he said, smiling again, “we both know I could get what I want with or without your permission” i stared at him.

He was starting. I could feel the heat rising from my belly.

“And what happens if I decide I'd rather expose myself than do it?”

He chuckled. “Then I'll be impressed.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “But I'd still tell them first.”

He never really wanted the kiss. He wanted what it gave him. Control. Something he can use to steer me whenever I refused to follow his lead. The kiss is just a leash.

Son of a bitch