Arden's POV
The corridors of Edelweiss never felt safe.
Not even in daylight.
I had learned that quickly. Each marble step echoed like a warning. Each glance felt loaded with meaning. Each whisper seemed meant to follow me.
And today, the weight of observation was heavier than ever.
During breakfast in the hall, I noticed it immediately. The higher-ranked students clustered near the center tables, glancing at me with faint smirks.
I tried to keep my head down, sipping tea slowly. But it was useless.
"Number 013," a voice hissed behind me.
I turned to see a tall boy with sharp features and dark eyes, leaning against the wall. His smirk was calm but mocking.
"Don't spill anything on yourself," he said. "Or you'll make all the wrong impressions."
I swallowed. "Thanks… I guess."
He laughed quietly and melted back into the crowd.
I exhaled slowly, heart racing. This was the first time I had felt true intimidation.
After breakfast, the first exercise of the day began.
We were paired with higher-ranked students again, forced into team tasks that were more mental than physical. Each mistake was noted. Each hesitation measured.
The boy from breakfast, #007, was assigned to my team.
"Try not to slow us down," he said lightly, though the tone cut like a blade.
I nodded. "I'll do my best."
During the task, I made a small mistake — a miscalculation in a logic puzzle.
"Seriously?" #007 asked sharply. "You're provisional for a reason."
I felt my cheeks burn, but I forced calm. "I'll correct it."
He smirked, almost satisfied. "Good. Learn fast. You're being watched more than you realize."
I glanced around. Everyone seemed calm, but I knew better. The eyes were everywhere. Every corner of the room had someone observing.
This is more than a school, I thought. It's a battlefield.
Later, I took a short break in the courtyard, trying to collect my thoughts.
The white petals of the flowers swayed in the breeze, soft and serene. A stark contrast to the tension gnawing at my chest.
And then I saw her with her usual spot.
Elaria Montclair.
And as usual, she didn't approach me. Didn't smile. Didn't speak. She just simply observed, as though weighing me.
Something inside me stirred. A pull I didn't understand.
I turned away quickly, pretending to focus on the fountain.
Back in Room 013, I noticed a new faint message etched above my bed:
Observe the Queen. Learn her patterns. Survival is recognition.
I traced the letters with trembling fingers.
The Queen. Elaria Montclair.
I didn't know why, but the words felt personal. Like someone wanted me to notice.
I sat on the edge of the bed, notebook in hand, and wrote everything down.
The whispers in the hall. The subtle mockery. The senior students' glances. The messages. And her — Lari, the Queen.
I didn't know what she represented. Danger? Guidance? Both?
That night, the dorm was silent.
I lay awake, listening to the creaks of the building, the faint rustle of curtains, the distant footsteps of higher-ranked students patrolling the halls.
And I realized something: survival here was not just about intelligence or agility.
It was about awareness.
It was about understanding the hierarchy before it understood you.
It was about reading people, observing patterns, and noticing details that others overlooked.
And it was about surviving the shadows.
The next day, another message appeared on my desk:
The shadows are everywhere. Trust only your instincts.
I ran my fingers over the paper, heart pounding.
Instinct. That was all I had left.
And yet… I felt a strange pull toward her again. The Queen. Lari. Elaria Montclair.
I didn't know why. I didn't know her. But I couldn't ignore the feeling.
I exhaled, staring out the window at the courtyard.
The game was only beginning.
And I had to survive it.