Ruby collected information on what happened years ago as her lips twitched at it.
So that's what happened to her Prince — he got his memory sealed because of her.
Her eyes glinted with fury, but her composure was calm, her body still and peaceful. To everyone else, she looked fast asleep. But inside, her thoughts burned — sharp, cold, and relentless.
Harley walked in soon after, only to be pulled aside by Sage, who immediately asked where she'd been.
"I was with Ruby," Harley said softly. "We took a tour around the college. Talked a lot, actually."
Sage tilted her head, studying her. "And what did she tell you?"
Harley hesitated, then continued, "She said she's been in the circus since birth. Her parents died, but she didn't quit — she stayed because of a friend. When he left, she followed him here. Said seeing that corpse earlier reminded her of when her family died."
Sage froze. She hadn't known any of that.
Her gaze flicked to Ruby, who still had her back to them, her figure motionless.
But Ruby's lips twitched faintly as her eyes slowly opened, glinting with a faint crimson light. The friend I was looking for is more than okay, she thought bitterly. He's having the time of his life living like a king here. He has forgotten his queen completely.
She almost laughed at the irony, but only silence left her lips.
Sage turned back to her laptop, quickly searching up the Rose Circus. Every detail matched Harley's story — Ruby's past, her parents' deaths, her years of performing alone. And the nameless friend who'd left just before she quit.
Such a story was rare — and it explained Ruby's reaction earlier.
Sage sighed and shut the computer. Just then, Miccah walked in from the library, holding a few books. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Research," Sage replied. "Trying to wrap up before tomorrow's orientation."
Harley's voice broke the quiet. "Ruby said she's not coming to the orientation. She asked me to give her a personal one today."
Sage frowned. "Not coming?" Her curiosity sparked instantly. "Then what's she planning for tomorrow?"
"I'm not going either," Sage said suddenly, stretching casually. "Too much fuss. You know I hate crowds."
Everyone nodded — they knew it was true.
On the bed, Ruby's faint smile deepened, her lashes lowering again. Her mind whispered one word, sharp and amused as sleep pulled her under.
Interesting.
Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging deep into her palms until she felt the sting of blood. So that's what you did, Don… she thought, eyes darkening with a mix of fury and sorrow.
He didn't forget her—he chose to forget.
The realization tore through her chest like a blade. All those empty stares, the calm indifference in his tone, the way his once fiery gaze had turned to cold blue ice… it wasn't hatred. It was the spell.
She remembered it now — the mark of a Prince's final vow.
When the seal takes hold, their pupils fade from their original hue into a deep, tranquil blue — a color untouched by emotion, by memory, by love. It was the color of loyalty's grave.
And when she had looked into his eyes earlier, she hadn't recognized it then — that haunting shade of blue. The same eyes that once burned gold whenever he said her name now reflected nothing but distance.
Ruby exhaled sharply, blinking away the sudden moisture burning her eyes. "You stupid, loyal fool," she whispered under her breath, voice trembling. "You could've just told me."
But no — Don never said goodbye. Princes never did. They sealed their loyalty with silence.
Ruby lifted her gaze to the night sky, her aura flickering with crimson energy that rippled through the air like heatwaves. "Fine," she muttered, voice laced with quiet rage. "You sealed your memories to protect me… then I'll seal my heart to avenge you."
The last glimmer of warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by the cold gleam of resolve. The wind carried her whisper like a vow.
"From now on, mercy dies with you, Don."
Knowing St. Heliera like the back of her hand, Ruby had already guessed half the student body would skip orientation. So she took her time. She woke early, freshened up, and — for once — set aside the usual gothic armor. Something flashed at the corner of her eye as she reached for the only piece of coloured clothing she'd ever owned.
It wasn't hers. It was Rose's — mistakenly packed when they'd left. It didn't matter. It helped. That was enough.
Ruby had never worn colour before. It felt wrong against the part of her that had learned to be shadow and steel. But last night had changed the rules: Sage had come too close to the truth. If her history existed online, if even a fragment of it matched what Sage was finding, everything would unravel. The Mafia queen — Ruby herself — had almost been checkmated by a rookie. The thought still made her blood boil.
So she locked in her abilities.
Disguise was her second skin. She never came to Heliera as herself; she'd grown used to slipping into other faces like garments. Her spells deceived; they were perfect liars. This one would be different: it would bind her power for a year, cage eighty percent of it, and leave her pale and unreal. It would make her softer, more fragile-looking — the perfect mask. It would also cost her. For a whole year, the spell would drain her, make her more ethereal, push the real Ruby farther away than she liked.
Her transformed hair — once straight and severe — puffed into curls she hadn't seen in years. Her fake cheerfulness, usually a practiced thing, softened into something that looked almost genuine. She checked herself in the mirror, grip tightening until the glass cracked. A line of steel cut into her palm and bled bright. The disguise had been forced on her for the mission. She was trapped in it, unless she wanted to break free and announce herself to the world in a hundred-percent crystal flare. No. That would ruin everything.
She tasted bile and thought of the one who'd made this necessary. Tch… that brat, she muttered. Time was bleeding away; she needed answers — not accusations. The murder had to be solved. If she could find the killer, she could use the truth — not lies — to untangle herself from this mission. But she knew one dangerous thing already: the killer's trail led back to Alexander.
Ruby slipped out the window while Sage blinked awake and padded after her, curiosity pulling the girl into the gray morning. Finally. Let's see what you're up to, Ruby Rose, Sage thought, and followed in silence.
St. Heliera sat like a secret on a hill, hemmed by a forest none in the Mafia world suspected belonged to the Ravens — a private place for a private school that somehow felt like a trap. They walked until dusk pulled the sky close, until the trees thinned and the world opened to a cold, bottomless cliff.
There, a circle of stones guarded a mound of sand. It looked wrong for a grave — unfinished, neglected, a place that didn't belong to the dead so much as to whatever had been careless about burying them. Ruby knelt. She set out food, uncorked jars of wine. Sage watched, breath held.
I may have preserved your soul, Ruby thought, lips twitching with a sadness that could curdle milk. But I couldn't save you. And you—thank me with that smile. Were you... mentally retarded? The thought shattered into the rain that arrived on cue as thunder rolled.
Emotions, she'd been taught, were the devil's snares. They clouded judgement, made the ruthless soft. Ruby had been drilled in that lesson until it was a reflex. Yet this body, this cursed disguise, betrayed her. It felt everything she'd sworn not to feel.
She stood in the storm with a broken smile. When she grabbed a jar and smashed it against the stones, wine sprayed like accusation. "It's a good day to drink," she whispered at the wind, voice raw. "Your benefactor sent you with good will — to make your climb smoother. Your parents told you to be free, to soar. Where are they now?" She laughed once, a sound without joy, and walked to the cliff's edge. Rain stabbed at her skin like barbs.
"Your future was paved for you with greatness in mind," she cried, voice cracking. "Now that you had the chance to prove it, where are you?!" Each syllable echoed back like a verdict. Without her full strength, each drop of rain felt like a knife. She closed her eyes against the pain. Even breathing hurt.
When she finally rose she bowed three times and poured a little wine onto the sand — a Chinese burial ritual — then stood and faced the path back to the college. The makeshift tomb bore an inscription, as if someone had tried to give meaning to the silence: To the silent hero the world would never know. Keep shining — six feet of darkness can't dim your light. Sunflowers leaned against the mound like small suns refusing to go out.
Sage felt a tug she hadn't expected. Something landed in her chest, a quiet ache, and then a spark of resolve. She rose and followed.
By the time Ruby reached Heliera she had traded the dark for something almost fairy-like: a shredded white dress that swayed around her knees, the silhouette of innocence. Her hair — black and naturally curled — fell almost to her knees. The look clashed, in a good way, with the poison everyone expected from her name. It hid what the Mafia world feared: the woman behind the legend.
Everything reminded her of Alexander — the way people moved, the small cruelties she'd seen in him. She felt anger prick at the edge of her composure. Mission or not, she'd burn this college to ash if it meant one step closer to freeing herself — but not by planting lies. She needed the truth. She needed to find the murderer who'd taken that girl's future. And she knew, with a hardening in her gut, that the killer's threads ran back to Alex.
She adjusted her glasses and moved up the main steps, eyes down. No one met her gaze. She avoided faces with the practiced ease of someone used to passing through rooms without leaving traces. When she walked to the railing where the girl had fallen, something cold tightened in her chest as she studied the distance.
Fear was an old language she no longer understood; pity lingered only as a memory. No—distractions will get me killed. She told herself the dead girl was an exception. If she kept rescuing souls, if she let herself feel, the Mafia would find her. And if Alex's eyes softened for her, she'd never complete the mission.
Clenching her fists, she steeled herself. I know everything he hates. Alexander, get ready to be blown off with disgust. The vow settled into her bones just as someone brushed past — a shadow, the whisper of movement — and a scrap of paper hit her palm. The runner was gone before she could turn.
She opened it. Her gaze darkened. Without finding the culprit, she moved down the stairs, anger coiling tight.