Chapter 46: _ What is Wrong With The Princes?!

Why on earth had the Wolf Prince said that? Why did he speak to me like I was his property?

Even the headmasters, headmistresses, and senior faculty seated in the gallery looked as though they had just witnessed a structural collapse. High Rector Maddox herself leaned forward, watching with interest as the impossible unfolded before her very eyes.

The orchestra struck up the opening notes of a sweeping, stately waltz, forcing the floor to move.

Ajax pulled me gently toward the center of the vast floor. We were surrounded by hundreds of pairs of eyes, every single aristocrat watching our every move in dead silence.

"I—I really don’t know how to dance," I muttered under my breath, staring at my own low-slung slippers to avoid looking at the sea of hateful glares.

"It’s quite all right," Ajax replied, guiding my hand to rest against his shoulder. "Like I said, you’re safe with me."

We began to turn. Despite the silence of the onlookers, his steps were light and expertly paced, carrying me through the motions even though my feet felt like lead.

"You look stunning tonight. You’re naturally striking... more beautiful than half the girls in this room, and you aren’t even trying."

"Thank you," I breathed out even though my mind was racing a mile a minute. I needed to say something back to maintain basic social graces.

"You... your hosting is wonderful. The gala is breathtaking."

Ajax let out a soft laugh. "Kind of you to say. And that dress, it’s remarkable. High-tier velvet, beautifully tailored. It looks too expensive for an initiate from the outer districts. Did someone gift it to you?"

My mouth went bone-dry.

The gown came from Warden Clement. It was issued for our undercover operation, part of an official academy assignment to infiltrate the gala and track down Tobin.

I had no idea what the protocol was. Was I allowed to tell the Lion Prince the truth?

Moreover, why does this feel... feel like an interrogation?

Was I being paranoid, or did every single person in this realm operate with a secret, multi-layered agenda? It made zero sense for the Lion Prince to pick me.

This was literally the first time I was laying eyes on him.

Ajax noticed my hesitation.

"You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not," he mused, guiding me through a turn. "I was merely curious. The dress is exquisite, and it suits you well. I only wondered how you came by a high-tier noble velvet.

Fuck my good heart... I felt a pang of guilt. He was being polite, and here I was, mentally mapping out an escape route like a cornered rat.

"I—it was given to us," I blurted out, dropping my defensive wall. "By Warden Clement. He and the wardens gave the gowns to me and my friends because we’re... well, we’re on a secret assignment for him. We’re supposed to help track down that core-stealer. Well, he’s apprehended now and we’ll finally be free."

Ajax’s steps faltered for a fraction of a second. "Hm. Free, I see.."

"Yes, Your Highness. Thanks to the commander."

"Ah... The Academy is corrupt, Elira. And the wardens are worse. Some of them don’t hesitate to use disposable students to solve their dirty work so they can climb the ranks. You need to be very careful who you trust."

Hearing a literal prince validate my deepest, most paranoid fears made me deeply uncomfortable. Maybe not everyone here was a lunatic.

"Thank you," I said, looking up at him with genuine gratitude. "You’re... surprisingly kind for a royal."

Ajax chuckled. "Then allow me to extend that kindness further. Be my friend, Elira."

I stopped dead in my tracks, nearly tripping over my own hem. "Your... friend?"

"Yes."

"Why?" I asked, completely baffled. "I’m a markless nobody from the trenches who yells seems to be a magnet for trouble. Why would a Lion Prince want to be friends with me?"

"Because I recognize talent before it blooms," Ajax replied, holding my gaze. "And my instincts are telling me to keep you close."

It was completely absurd, but coming from the host of the gala, it sounded like a royal decree wrapped in a compliment. I had been ordinary my entire life; nobody had ever wanted to keep me close for anything other than target practice.

"I mean... I guess?" I stammered, raising a cautious hand. "Warning you, though, I am painfully ordinary."

"We’ll see about that," he said, smiling.

Before I could process what had just happened, Ajax slipped a hand into his pocket. He pulled out a dark metal band and slid it onto my wrist in the blink of an eye.

What...

I winced as the cold metal touched my skin, feeling a sharp, burning pinch, like a tiny needle prick. It felt like it branded itself directly into my pulse point.

"Ow! What was that?" I hissed, instinctively trying to tug it off.

"A gift," Ajax said, his grip tightening just enough to stop me. "It doubles as a bracelet. But see that tiny raised button on the side? If you are ever in real trouble, press it and wish for me. I’ve tethered a piece of my core energy to it, so it can summon me instantly."

I stared at him, my jaw practically unhinging. He tethered his core to a piece of jewelry? On my wrist? After knowing me for all of five minutes?

That wasn’t a friendship bracelet... that was a magical ankle leash disguised as designer arm candy.

Why on earth would he do this?

"Prince Ajax, I—I can’t accept this, this is a whole lot..."

"I take care of my own. You will wear that bracelet, Elira," he pointed out in a tone of finality.

A cold shudder ran down my spine. Despite his polite smile, there was something controlling about the way he spoke.

Before I could figure out how to rip the cursed thing off, High Rector Maddox’s amplified voice cut across the hall.

"The opening dance concludes," the High Rector announced. "Let the remaining royal heirs select their partners and join the floor."

Around us, the crowd changed.

On the dais, Prince Remus stepped down, striding straight toward his stepsisters. Without a glance at the weeping debutantes, he extended a hand to the exact girl who had whispered veiled threats into my ear earlier.

A cold sweat broke out on my neck. Note to self: avoid Vaela at all costs, or end up as dragon kibble.

Across the room, the second dragon sister turned expectantly toward the Wolf Prince, clearly assuming he would claim her according to high-society pairings.

The red-haired stal... Prince, ignored her completely.

He marched straight past the front rows and stopped right in front of Miriel.

What? Why? What the hell is wrong with all of these Princes?!

Miriel let out a sound resembling a dying kettle.

Dozens of high-born girls gasped in devastation. Miriel had been right all along. The terrifying Wolf Prince actually had a twisted, stalking sort of crush on her.

Yet, watching Ivar bow stiffly to Miriel, a bitter pinch of disappointment hit my chest.

Why did I care? And more importantly, why had Ivar asked me outside: Who gave you the permission to let another man touch you?

What the hell did he mean? Was I just a pawn in their psychotic royal pissing contest?