CHAPTER 8 — Navira's POV
"Advanced Class. Meet Your Queen."
The classroom smells faintly of pencil shavings and slightly stale air.
I step in like I own it. Not because I'm arrogant—okay, maybe a little—but mostly because I've been planning this moment since I was six.
All the students turn toward me.
Some whisper: "Is she really the Aurline daughter?"
Some mutter: "She's… albino…"
And a few boys just gape.
I smile sweetly. Wave faintly.
"Hi," I say. Soft. Innocent. Angelic.
Inside, I'm laughing.
The teacher, Ms. Hargrove, clears her throat. "Navira… we've received your placement test. You're in the advanced class."
I nod politely. "Thank you, ma'am."
The other students stare.
The advanced class is the one everyone in the grade dreams of, but few actually get into.
And here I am.
One test. One week of preparation. One orphanage library grind. And boom. Advanced.
Agnes sits across the room, glaring daggers.
She expected me to fail. She expected me to flounder.
Wrong. Dead wrong.
She leans over her little clique and whispers something.
I catch it easily: "She thinks she's better than all of us."
Cute. Really cute.
I raise an eyebrow. Smile innocently. "Oh, do I?"
Heads snap toward me.
She flushes red.
She mutters under her breath: "I'm going to make her miserable."
I lean back in my chair. Fold my hands. Smile.
Bring it on, sweetheart.
The first lesson begins: algebraic equations and logical reasoning.
Ms. Hargrove scribbles a problem on the board: something complicated enough to make 80% of this class panic.
I raise my hand.
"Yes, Navira?"
She looks surprised. Not that I care.
I solve the equation in my head, slowly and deliberately, letting the others notice.
"X equals 27," I say softly. Then add, almost apologetically, "If anyone wants the steps, I can write them on the board."
Gasps.
Some students whisper.
Some take notes furiously.
Agnes scowls. "Impossible…" she mutters.
I smile faintly. "Oh, it's possible. I've always loved puzzles."
A few kids start whispering to each other: "She's not just the Aurline daughter… she's… smart."
Yes. Exactly. That's the point.
During the break, Agnes tries again.
"Navira, hey…" she says sweetly.
I tilt my head. "Yes?"
"You don't need to… you know… make everyone look bad," she says carefully.
She's trying to guilt me. I can feel it.
I smile. Softly, innocently.
"Agnes… I'm not trying to make anyone look bad. I'm just… me."
She huffs. "You don't have to flaunt it."
I shrug. "I'm not flaunting. I'm surviving. Advanced classes require… excellence. And survival."
Her face crumples.
"You… you're insufferable," she mutters.
"Thank you," I whisper sweetly.
Alden appears at the door during lunch, quietly.
He gives me a thumbs-up.
No words.
Just support. That's all I need.
He knows I've got this.
By the end of the day, every teacher I meet stares like they've never met anyone like me before.
Even Ms. Hargrove smiles faintly. "Very impressive, Navira. Keep this up."
Agnes?
She storms out before the last bell, dragging her little entourage behind her.
I watch them go, smiling faintly.
Alden walks up beside me. "You handled them well."
"I handled school," I reply, smirking. "Agnes just provided the entertainment."
He chuckles softly. "She won't stop."
"Good," I whisper. "Then neither will I."
And just like that, first day in the advanced class?
Completely and utterly mine.