Lyra chose the front row on purpose.
It was a small rebellion,but deliberate.She arrived early to her Comparative History lecture,slid into a seat directly beneath the lights,and placed her notebook squarely on the desk like a declaration.
No hiding today.
When Elias entered five minutes later, he noticed immediately.
He didn't sit beside her.
He sat behind her.
Close enough to speak far enough to look respectful.
Kael arrived last.
His gaze found Lyra instantly—and froze.
Front row open posture....aake.
She wasn't shrinking anymore.
The professor began droning on about ancient power structures, but Kael barely heard it. Elias leaned forward slightly.
"You write beautifully," Elias murmured, just loud enough. "Your notes from last week—your metaphors were… unexpected."
Lyra stiffened—but didn't recoil.
"Did you read them?" she asked quietly.
Elias smiled. "You left your notebook open."
Kael's fingers curled slowly into a fist.
That was intentional.
At the end of class, Elias stood first.
"Study group tonight," he said casually, loud enough for nearby students to hear. "You should join us, Lyra. You'd balance the room."
Heads turned.
Whispers followed.
Kael waited.
Lyra closed her notebook carefully, then looked up at Elias. "I'll think about it."
Not yes.
Not no.
Agency.
Elias nodded once, satisfied.
By afternoon, the story had already changed.
Lyra Vale wasn't quiet anymore—she was interesting.
The scholarship girl wasn't invisible—she was wanted.
Someone had seen Elias walk her to the quad.
Someone else claimed Kael Draven had nearly lost his temper in class.
By dinner, the side girl—Alessia—was furious.
She cornered Kael near the arts wing, heels sharp against stone.
"You're letting him circle her," Alessia snapped. "That's not like you."
Kael didn't look at her. "This isn't your concern."
"It becomes my concern when the council notices," she said coldly. "Elias doesn't pursue humans without permission."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Does he have it?" Alessia pressed. "Or does Madame Selvara?"
That name hit like a blade.
Kael turned. "Don't say her name."
Alessia smiled, sharp and knowing. "Then stop pretending this is nothing."
She walked away.
Lyra & Selvara
Lyra almost collided with Madame Selvara outside the administration building.
"Oh—sorry," Lyra said quickly.
The older woman smiled warmly. "No harm done, child."
Her eyes lingered—measuring, intelligent.
"You look different today," Selvara observed. "Heavier."
Lyra blinked. "Heavier?"
"With awareness," Selvara clarified. "That often comes before choice."
Lyra didn't know why, but she answered honestly. "I think people want things from me."
Selvara's smile softened. "They always do. What matters is whether you give yourself willingly—or are taken by force."
A pause.
Then, gently: "Be careful of young men who claim friendship but crave influence."
Lyra swallowed. "And what about the ones who try not to care at all?"
Selvara's gaze flicked—just briefly—to where Kael stood across the courtyard, watching without approaching.
"Those," she said quietly, "are often the most dangerous to themselves."
Before Lyra could respond, Selvara walked on....leaving questions burning in her wake.
Kael
That night, Kael didn't write.
It was the first time since Lyra arrived.
Instead, he stood beneath the old oak near her dorm and made the hardest choice of his life.
He turned away.
Not because he didn't want her.
But because if Elias pushed harder tomorrow—
and if Kael lost control again—
Someone would get hurt.
And this time, it would not be forgiven.
From the shadows above, Madame Selvara watched him leave.
"Good," she murmured.
"Now we see what the girl will choose."