CHAPTER 11 — Navira's POV
"One Day Back & First Blood Drawn."
The Aurline limousine pulls up to school, and the first thing I hear is the whispers.
"Is that the new girl?"
"No, that's Navira Aurline."
"Aurline? As in that Aurline?"
"Why is her hair white?"
"She's… kind of scary pretty."
Ah. Music.
Agnes steps out first, plastering on her fake-angel smile.
She holds her bag like she's on a magazine cover — chin high, lips trembling as if she might "cry from overwhelm" at any moment.
Then I step out behind her.
And the crowd goes silent.
Like someone hit mute on the world.
Albino hair shining under the sun.
Red eyes cool and unbothered.
Expression bored, elegant, untouchable.
Someone gasps.
Someone else whispers, "She looks like royalty."
Agnes tries to smile wider, but her eye twitches.
I softly clear my throat.
"Good morning, everyone," I say, voice smooth and polite.
And that is all it takes.
Phones come out.
People start murmuring.
A girl from the student council straight up RUNS over.
"Oh my gosh — Miss Aurline, right? We're so honored—"
Agnes looks like she wants to choke on air.
Perfect.
We enter the hallway, and the whispers follow like lights on a runway.
I can feel Agnes burning beside me, but she tries to keep calm until—
"...Wait."
A loud male voice echoes.
I turn.
A boy leans against a locker, arms crossed, amused smirk.
Jasver.
Tall. Sharp jaw. Lazy confident energy.
A boy who looks like he grew up hearing he could have anything he wanted.
He pushes off the locker, strolling toward us.
"Never seen you before," he says to me, eyes scanning me with interest he doesn't bother hiding.
Agnes goes rigid beside me.
Oh? Interesting.
I tilt my head, calm. "Because you haven't."
He smirks. "I'm Jasver."
"I didn't ask," I reply, expression deadpan.
The hallway HOLDS ITS BREATH.
Agnes nearly drops her bag.
Jasver laughs — low, delighted, like someone just handed him a new favorite toy.
"Oh, I like you."
Agnes stiffens. "J-Jasver! I-I didn't know you were… here."
He looks at her for exactly 0.5 seconds before turning back to me.
"Walk with me?"
"No," I answer immediately.
People WHISPER.
Agnes looks like she's about to faint.poor girl.
Jasver raises a brow. "Why not?"
"Because I'm not here to socialize," I say simply. "I'm here to take what's mine."
A few students step back like I just declared war.
Jasver stares at me, impressed. "Damn. You're cold."
"Thank you," I whisper, brushing past him.
He laughs again. "I'll win you over eventually."
Agnes freezes.
Her eyes widen so much they practically shake.
Ohhhhh.
So THAT'S the boy she likes.
Well.
Not my problem.
But oh I will use this.
Lunch Break — Agnes Attempts Public Sabotage
Agnes doesn't wait long to strike.
We're in the cafeteria, and I've just sat down with my tray — perfectly content, perfectly alone — when she stands up dramatically at her table.
Her voice rings out like a fake sickly angel.
"You guys… I just want to say…"
She wipes an imaginary tear.
"…even if Navira is the blood daughter, I will still treat her like a sister."
People look between us.
I raise my brow.
She continues, voice trembling, fake empathy dripping like syrup.
"She went through so much in the orphanage, and I just want to protect her. If she ever seems… rude… or cold… please understand she's still healing—"
I actually choke on my water.
Healing from WHAT?
Her stupidity?
(Probably)
Before I can speak, someone yells,
"Navira doesn't seem cold! She seems confident!"
Another student:
"Yeah, Agnes, why are you talking like she's helpless?"
Agnes freezes.
But it gets worse.
Jasver stands up on a bench.
On a BENCH.
Like this is Shakespeare in the cafeteria.
"Did Navira ASK you to defend her?" he calls out.
Agnes shakes her head quickly.
"Did she seem weak to you?" he says, hand on his hip.
"N-no…"
Jasver spreads his arms dramatically.
"THEN WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?"
The cafeteria laughs.
Agnes goes pale.
I slowly stand, walk forward, and place my hand on her shoulder.
Softly, sweetly, voice sugary but sharp enough to cut:
"Don't speak for me. Ever."
Agnes flinches.
People gasp.
Then I smile — innocent, bright, terrifying.
"She's just stressed," I add, patting her cheek.
"It must be exhausting trying so hard to stay relevant."
Gasps.
Laughter.
Someone actually CLAPS.
Agnes stands there trembling, smile twitching, eyes watery.
But the fun isn't over.
I step forward, raise my voice just enough to carry:
"I am Navira Aurline — the real heir.
I don't need pity.
I don't need excuses.
I don't need drama."
A pause. A breath. A smile.
"I only need results."
Silence hits the cafeteria like a stun grenade.
Then the entire room bursts into excited whispers.
I walk back to my seat, calm, poised, untouchable.
Jasver whistles.
Alden texts me: "You are INSANE."
Alastair sends a single message: "We need to talk."
Agnes sits silently, hands shaking under the table.
And I…
I stab a piece of chicken with my fork and smile.
Another win.
Another day.
Another checkmate.