Chapter 64: _ Temporary Royal Bodyguard

Zevaranthius Daegal [Heir to the Tiger Throne]

Ivar was an idiot, but until recently, he’d been a predictable idiot.

When the markless girl had publicly pointed a finger at the Wolf Prince during the Gala and accused him of orchestrating an assault, the entire ballroom had frozen.

I hadn’t.

I’d watched Ivar’s face carefully. The sudden hysteria behind his eyes hadn’t been the outrage of an innocent noble falsely accused. It was the panic of a guilty dog backed into a corner.

That was the exact moment I realized whatever secret Ivar was keeping about that night near the Sunken Arch, it went far deeper than a failed scouting mission.

Our original plan was simple: use the dragonless girl as leverage to drag Raice Ignis-Dominus down. But Ivar had breached our agreement the second he started lying to my face.

So, when I cornered Elira on the dance floor last night, I took the opportunity to plant a few choice seeds in her head. I flirted, played the charming Tiger Prince, and made sure she knew I’d be coming to see her soon.

Ivar had bolted back to the Wolf Academy before I could even drag him into an alcove and wring his neck for answers. He’d left the Gala early... without flirting, without picking a noble girl to sleep with, and without siphoning off a fraction of her magical reserves for himself.

For Ivar Wulfram, skipping a free buffet of female power was the equivalent of a deathbed confession. Something was gravely wrong.

Which brought me to the Dragon Academy security sector on this lovely morning, skipping my own lectures because I couldn’t rest until I solved the puzzle.

Getting inside had required contacting one of my usual corrupt wardens. Normally, I didn’t give a damn about administrative formalities like Warden Passes. The entire system was built on bribes and hypocrisy anyway. But as I’d pulled out my pouch of coin, Elira’s sharp voice from our dance had echoed in my head, scolding me for my blatant disregard for Academy law.

I actually bought a pass for her, I thought, suppressing a rueful smirk as I leaned against the pillar. She’d probably bite my head off if she knew how much that timed scroll cost me.

Now, I was looking down at the pale and bewildered girl in front of me.

"The Wolf Prince," I repeated, keeping my tone deceptively casual. "Are you absolutely sure it was Ivar who saved you?"

Elira’s forehead creased, her hazel eyes clouded with sudden confusion. "I... I didn’t see the fight," she admitted. "The chamber was pitch black. But someone fought Tobin off. I’m just not sure I can trust my memory for now."

There it was. The telltale hesitation.

I narrowed my eyes, analyzing the subtle shift in her posture, the blankness that washed over her expression whenever she tried to recall the specifics of that dark chamber. There was a massive hole in her memory.

Compulsion.

Ivar had used mind manipulation on her.

I almost laughed out loud at the desperation of it. Ivar’s mind compulsion was notoriously frail. It was an ability he’d stolen after an entire year of fake wooing Cicily, the Dragon Academy’s scariest female. He was still on her kill list because of it, and although Ivar denied it, his fear of Cicily—was it fear or guilt? Wouldn’t let him practice the compulsion enough time to master it.

Now, him using it on Elira meant it was a messy patch designed to buy him time.

Time for what?

For Ivar to risk using such a crude ability on a girl who already had half the realm staring at her meant one thing: whatever actually happened in that underground vault was catastrophic enough to ruin him instantly if it came to light.

Elira blinked up at me, clearly unsettled by the silence stretching between us. "Why are you all acting like I’m a murder mystery?"

I leaned down slightly, letting a warm, dark smile pull at my lips. "Because, Sweet Dragonless... you are."

Before she could process the words, I reached out and gently wrapped my fingers around her small hand, lifting it from her side and I could feel her stiffen.

I turned my head toward Clement. "Well, Commander, if you’re done interrogating crying Sylven boys, I’ll be taking my leave. I’m escorting the ladies to their morning classes."

Clement’s eyebrows shot up. "Prince Zev, I must strongly advise against that. A Tiger Prince walking hand-in-hand with a first-year Dragon through the Dragon Academy on a moon day morning will trigger a wave of gossip that will derail half the student body from getting to their lectures."

I felt a prickle of annoyance flare up my spine. I hated being questioned by bureaucrats.

I straightened to my full height, letting the full weight of my royal aura press into the small corridor.

"Commander, let me gently remind you who holds royal blood in this room, and who gives the orders. I am not asking for your permission."

Clement’s posture stiffened. The man was widely hated for a reason. Always so uptight and raving on about stupid rules.

"We’ll be fine, Commander!" Elira blurted out quickly, stepping a little between us and giving Clement a reassuring look. "We won’t cause any trouble, I promise."

Clement looked at Elira, then at her two wide-eyed friends, and finally back to me. He let out a long, long-suffering sigh, tossing his hands up in defeat. "Fine. But if there is a riot in the East Wing, I am holding the Tiger Realm financially responsible."

With a final stern glare at the girls, Clement turned marched back down the hall toward his office.

Once the warden’s heavy footfalls faded, I turned my attention back to my little group. If I was going to systematically dismantle Ivar’s crude compulsion and pull the truth out of Elira’s head, I needed her calm, comfortable, and thoroughly distracted.

I flashed my brightest, most disarming smile at her two friends.

"Ladies," I purred, offering them a dramatic nod. "You can stop bowing now before you give yourselves permanent back damage. I don’t bite unless asked nicely."

The decorated one let out another squeak, her face flushing a deep pink, while the red-haired one chuckled, relaxing her guard just a little.

"Right then," I said, sliding my fingers between Elira’s, intertwining our hands completely.

She froze, staring down at our joined fingers as if I’d just handed her a live explosive. Her skin was soft, contrasting the thick calluses lining my palm.

"Y-your Highness... What are you doing?" she stammered, her eyes wide as she looked up at me.

"Walking you to class," I replied easily, pulling her along as I turned toward the exit stairs. "You’re a high-profile target now, Sweet Dragonless. Consider me your temporary royal bodyguard."