Chapter 63: _ Cunning Prince, Zev

Clement straightened up, eyeing the Tiger Prince with a measured look. "However, I must remind you... cross-Academy visitation without a formal Warden Pass is a severe infraction of Last Bastion treaties."

Zev didn’t even look at Clement. His amber eyes remained pinned on my flushed face.

"Is that so, Commander?" The Prince purred.

Slowly, Zev reached into his dark leather coat, pulled out a gold-embossed scroll, and casually dangled it between two fingers.

My eyes widened. It was... a Warden Pass.

The same Prince who had told me last night how much he didn’t care for Academy rules actually followed the same rule fourteen hours later.

Clement blinked in surprise, stepping forward to accept the parchment. The moment Clement’s fingers touched the golden seal, the magic dissolved into a soft puff of shimmering white dust, vanishing into thin air.

Expired. The pass had been timed down to the exact second he stepped through the door.

Zev offered me a slow wink. "You see, Sweet Dragonless? I actually obeyed the law today. Entirely for you."

My throat felt bone-dry.

He got an official, temporary pass just to come here to me?

Not knowing how else to respond to a Tiger Prince flirting with me in front of the head of academy security, I simply lowered my head and gave him a quick, awkward bow.

Clement cleared his throat loudly, tossing the lingering dust from his hands with a look of utter exasperation.

"Very impressive, Prince Zev," Clement said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Now, if you wouldn’t mind enlightening me... what brings the heir of the Tiger Realm to the holding cells of the Dragon Academy on the day of the moon?"

"I came for her," Zev said simply, smiling sheepishly as he pointed a finger straight at me.

Miriel let out a gasping squeak that sounded like a strangled songbird. Bren’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline, and my own jaw almost hit the floor.

He came here for me?

Commander Clement pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling a weary sigh that rattled the brass buttons on his jacket. "Right. Well, I suppose this conversation needs to be taken up in a more private setting then. I mean, surely, there could have been other locations for such..." a slight cough, "...meetings."

"No need, Commander," Zev declined, waving a dismissive hand as he leaned his massive frame against a pillar. "I’m not here for tea and administrative small talk. I’m here to help with the investigation."

Clement froze. He stared at the Tiger Prince as if Zev had suddenly sprouted a second head and started singing the royal anthem.

To say Clement was dumbfounded would be an understatement. The commander knew, just like everyone in Last Bastion, the reputation of Zevarathius Daegal.

While his closest friend, the Wolf Prince Ivar, was a notorious, carefree scoundrel who spent his days flocking around noble women and dodging responsibilities, Zev was a different breed entirely.

He was razor-sharp and effortlessly brilliant, but completely indifferent to Academy tragedies. He mingled easily with the student body, something uncommon amongst the other princes, and preferred to live his life entirely on his own terms, unbothered by official burdens.

And now, here he was, voluntarily offering to assist the Dragon Academy security department on a dreary morning.

"You want to... help with an investigation? That’s new, Prince Zev." Clement repeated, squinting in suspicion.

"There’s a first time for everything, Commander," Zev purred, and a wicked smirk flashed across his rugged face. "Brief me."

Clement eyed him for a long moment before sighing. "Fine. Two days ago, these three initiates were lured into the lower drainage vaults near the Sunken Arch. The attacker is Tobin, a second-year Sylven. The culprit claimed to be a core-stealer, threatened their lives, and physically assaulted Initiate No-One before Prince Ivar materialized and drove him off."

Zev’s eyes went from Clement straight to me. "Is that so? A core-stealer."

"We apprehended the real Tobin during the Grand Gala," Clement continued, oblivious to the sudden rise in tension. "However, the prisoner vehemently denies all charges. We are currently weighing two theories: either he is a master actor, or the true culprit is a shapeshifter who stole Tobin’s appearance."

Zev hummed thoughtfully, crossing his arms over his broad chest. But instead of focusing on the core-stealer or the shapeshifting theory, his eyes narrowed into razor-sharp slits.

"Hold on," Zev said, tilting his head as he looked down at me. "Back up a second."

I blinked. "Back up?"

"The Wolf Prince. Are you absolutely sure it was Ivar who truly saved you?"

My forehead creased. "W-what?"

"Think carefully, Sweet Dragonless," Zev pressed, taking a slow step toward me. "Ivar Wulfram doesn’t do good deeds. He doesn’t do heroic rescues, and he certainly doesn’t wander around filthy sewer pipes out of the goodness of his heart. So tell me... did you actually see him fight off the attacker, or did he just magically appear after the dirty work was already done?"

The corridor fell dead silent.

Miriel and Bren exchanged a panicked glance, and Clement’s eyes narrowed as he watched the Tiger Prince.

My mind raced back to that terrifying night. The pitch-black chamber, the suffocating fear, the feeling of the vines cutting into my skin... and then that feeling of someone else...

There was a huge hole in my memory from that night that I was yet to fill. But I had assumed... everyone had assumed...

"I..." My throat felt bone-dry. "I didn’t see the fight. The chamber was pitch black. But someone fought Tobin off. I-I’m just not sure I can trust my memory for now."

I had no idea what I said was funny because the Tiger Prince let out a chuckle that vibrated through the stone floor beneath my boots.

That’s it. Even Prince Zev was scary.

What the hell is wrong with the Princes of Last Bastion?!

I stared between them. "Can I ask something?"

Zev’s amber eyes returned to mine. "Of course."

"Why are you all acting like I’m a murder mystery?"

Miriel snorted. Bren covered her mouth. Even Clement’s lips twitched.

Zev, however, only smiled. "Because, Sweet Dragonless..."

He leaned slightly closer.

"You are."