Hunter's voice was calm but commanding as he called someone in his phone.
"Send a doctor here. The guest is running a fever."
He stood. Without warning, he slid his arms beneath my legs and around my back, effortlessly lifting me into his arms.
My eyes widened in surprise.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, alarm creeping into my voice.
"Back to your room," he replied flatly, as if carrying me through a hotel hallway was the most natural thing in the world.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing.
We stopped in front of my door. Hunter turned to me, his expression unreadable.
"Your key card?"
"Hmm?" I mumbled, panic rising. I had left it inside, I realized too late.
"Oh, shit," I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment. "I left it inside. Just bring me down, and I can take it from here."
But Hunter paused, eyeing me thoughtfully. Then, without a word, he walked toward the elevator doors and pressed open. It opened instantly and stepped inside.
He pressed the button for the top floor.
My stomach twisted with dread.
"And where are you taking me?" I demanded, voice trembling despite my effort to sound firm.
He didn't answer.
The elevator ascended smoothly, the silence thick with unspoken questions.
When we reached the floor, he keyed in his code in a hidden pad. The doors slid open and I was stunned to see a luxurious penthouse suite beyond. The space was sleek, modern, and eerily silent. The penthouse suite sprawls across the top floor, a sleek sanctuary of modern masculinity. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the city skyline, shimmering with neon lights and distant skyscrapers. The interior boasts minimalist luxury—dark leather furniture, polished marble floors, and steel accents that speak of sophistication. Ambient lighting casts a warm glow, creating the perfect retreat for both work and unwinding.
Hunter walked across the vast, sleek space and entered a bedroom, the door closing softly behind him. I watched as he gently laid me down on a bed covered in silken sheets, the cool fabric brushing against my skin.
"This is a spare bedroom," he said, his tone measured but distant. "You can stay here for a while. It's almost morning anyway. Don't worry about Hudson—I'll take it from here."
He turned toward the door, pausing briefly. Then, almost casually, he looked back over his shoulder.
"Is something wrong with your hair?"
I instinctively placed my hands on my head, feeling the cap still snug beneath my fingers. Relief flooded me—thankfully, the dye hadn't fully washed out. I shook my head quickly.
Hunter nodded slightly, as if satisfied, and then added, "Take your rest."
As soon as he left, I sat up slowly, my mind racing. Why had Hunter brought me here? Why did he seem to care so much? An unsettling feeling settled in my stomach as I looked around the luxurious room—every detail was meticulously perfect, yet I felt a gnawing sense of unease.
I knew I couldn't stay here. Quietly, I slipped out of the room, moving silently through the suite. I avoided the hallway cameras and staff, making my way to the front desk. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I quietly requested a copy of my key card.
The staff's suspicious glances didn't escape my notice, but I kept my expression neutral, my mind focused. Luckily, there were no other guests around at this hour.
With the key card in hand, I tiptoed back to my room, careful to avoid Hunter seeing me. Once inside, I hurried to the mirror and washed my hair, noticing the dye hadn't fully taken—streaks of white still shimmered amidst the dark.
Staring into my reflection, I gasped.
My face was different—more striking, almost unrecognizable. The slightly tanned skin, the piercing grey eyes—my new features felt like a mask I could hide behind.
A small tug of a smile played on my lips.
I was happy with my new look. No one would recognize me now.
I had to stay hidden. Avoid Hudson. Avoid Hunter. Keep my true identity a secret until my graduation.
-----
Before the city woke up, I already left the hotel. I informed Miss Jennifer that I will find the way to the Academy myself. I hailed a cab and gave him the address to the Academy.
The academy was an imposing estate nestled on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by centuries-old oak trees and meticulously manicured gardens. Its grand façade was made of warm, honey-colored stone, with tall arched windows that reflected the early morning light. Ivy crept up the walls, lending an air of quiet dignity and history.
As the cab wound its way through the winding driveway, I caught glimpses of the other students arriving at the academy. They stepped out of sleek luxury cars, their families' insignias subtly displayed on clothing or accessories, a silent testament to their privilege, their presence commanding and effortless. Some were dropped off by chauffeurs, stepping out with an air of entitlement that seemed almost second nature. Many carried designer luggage, their crisp uniforms spotless and perfectly pressed.
I stepped out of the cab and took a deep breath, the cool morning air filling my lungs. A few glanced my way, their eyes sharp and assessing, as if they could tell I was different—an outsider hiding behind a carefully crafted disguise.
The grand entrance to the academy loomed ahead—massive wooden doors carved with intricate symbols, polished to a mirror shine. As I approached, a tall, stern-looking woman in a tailored blazer and gold-rimmed glasses emerged from the main hall, her posture commanding yet composed.
"Good morning," she greeted, her voice smooth and authoritative. "You must be the new student."
"Yes, I'm here to inquire about my enrollment," I replied, trying to keep my tone steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest.
She nodded, studying me with keen eyes. "Follow me, please."
We moved through the vast hallway, lined with portraits of distinguished alumni and shelves piled high with ancient books. The air smelled of polished wood and secrets long kept. We reached a heavy oak door, beyond which I could hear faint murmurs and the rustling of papers.
She knocked softly, then pushed the door open. Inside, a stern-looking man with graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses sat behind a massive desk, surrounded by stacks of documents and a flickering fire in the hearth.
"Mr. Thornton," she announced, "This is the prospective student."
He looked up, his expression unreadable. "Ah, the new arrival. Have a seat."
I took a seat across from him, heart pounding.
He reached out his hand, and instinctively, I took it, giving it a firm shake. His grip was steady, reassuring.
"Welcome to the Royal Academy, Miss Margaret," he said with a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He glanced down at the papers on his table, then back up with a hint of curiosity. "So, you're Margaret Del Valle. You're on a full-ride scholarship from the Kingdom of Montero. We don't usually accept transferees—especially this late in the term. But, the King personally called the academy. You must be very special."
I offered a nervous smile, trying to hide the flutter of anxiety in my chest. "I assure you, I am not, Mr. Thornton. You see, my parents work for King Julian," I lied smoothly, knowing I had to. It was a gamble, but I had no other choice.
Mr. Thornton simply nodded, accepting my explanation without question. "Very well. Since you'll be staying here full-time, a student council member will show you around shortly."
He reached for a small bell on his desk and tapped it twice. Moments later, a poised girl in a crisp blazer and perfectly ironed skirt entered the room. Her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity and authority.
"Eva will take you to your dorm and introduce you to the campus," Mr. Thornton said, gesturing towards her. "Make sure she shows you everything."
Eva nodded, her smile welcoming but perceptive, as if she could see straight through my carefully crafted facade.
As she gestured for me to follow, I swallowed my nerves and prepared to step into this world of royalties.