The grand hall of St. Alaric Academy glittered under the golden light of the chandeliers. Polished marble floors reflected the perfectly pressed uniforms of the elite students, and the faint scent of expensive cologne and perfume hung in the air. Everywhere Jace looked, there were clusters of children laughing in practiced confidence, whispering and trading glances as though the world revolved around them.
He walked in quietly, his steps measured, carrying only a simple backpack slung over one shoulder. He wasn't flashy, nor did he look like the children of the rich families surrounding him, but somehow, every gaze in the hall seemed to acknowledge him.
A small scholarship student sitting nearby, a boy with slightly messy hair and nervous eyes, leaned slightly forward, whispering with awe.
"You… you walk like you own the place," he murmured. "I've never seen anyone carry themselves like that before."
Jace glanced at him briefly, nodding politely. He didn't speak, but his calm presence said enough: he was aware of the attention, but uninterested in cheap praise.
From the upper staircase, a group of girls leaned over, whispering to each other. Allison, the girl everyone called the princess of the school, nudged her friend with an amused smirk.
"Look at him," she murmured, eyes following Jace's every step. "He's… handsome. Not in that flashy, spoiled way. Calm, controlled… I like that."
Her friends giggled quietly, but Allison didn't look away. There was something about him that drew her attention, an aura she couldn't explain.
The principal's voice cut through the whispers. "Welcome, students, to St. Alaric Academy. Let us begin with introductions."
The doors at the far end opened, and a hush fell over the hall.
The small scholarship student leaned toward Jace, whispering urgently now, eyes wide: "Stand… you have to stand. That's Theo… the school prince."
Jace's calm brown eyes flicked toward the entrance. He took a single, measured step forward, surveying the room with the same quiet authority he had shown since walking in. I decide who deserves respect, his gaze seemed to say.
Every student rose as protocol demanded. Every student, that is, except Jace.
A soft gasp swept through the hall. Murmurs swelled, ranging from curiosity to outrage. Jace's eyes scanned the room, noting the subtle hierarchy: who wielded influence, who feared whom, and which alliances were already forming.
From the upper staircase, Allison leaned back slightly in her chair, arms crossed, exhaling quietly. She didn't stand. She didn't glance at Theo with awe or fear. She simply watched, nonchalant, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips. Even with the school prince entering the hall, she gave no sign of bowing to the world's expectations.
When the time came for him to introduce himself, Jace stepped forward. His voice was calm, measured, and carried an unshakable confidence.
"My name is Jace."
That was all. No bow. No smile. No words of flattery. Just his name.
The room froze. Even the teachers blinked, unsure of how to react. Whispers rippled through the crowd like wildfire. Jace's eyes met Theo's for a brief second. Sharp, calculating, the prince's jaw tightened.
Something about the boy unnerved him — a quiet storm behind steady eyes.
Jace returned to his seat, his posture flawless, as if he belonged anywhere in the room, elite or scholar alike. The whispers grew louder, some in adminame ration, some in envy. Yet Jace remained unmoved.
He noticed small details: the scholarship student who had warned him earlier, fidgeting in his seat; the way some elites glanced at each other to check reactions; Theo's fingers tightening on the edge of his desk. Every observation added to the silent calculations forming in his mind.
From across the hall, Allison continued to watch, her curiosity growing. A smile tugged at her lips as she whispered to herself, "Interesting… very interesting."
This was the battlefield. And he already knew the first rule: never let them measure your strength too soon.
Theo's glare followed him as he walked back to his seat. This boy… he's going to be trouble.