CHAPTER 209: DIFFERENCE

Chapter 209

Felix

"Wow, it’s so weird about Poppy and the panther heiress," Lira says, her tone casual but her grip on my arm anything but.

She’s curled up beside me on the bed, fingers tracing lazy circles on my bicep like she owns it. Which, to be fair, she probably thinks she does. Her fluffy white tail flicks lightly against the blanket, the picture of playful comfort.

I stretch with a yawn—not because I’m tired, but because I know it’ll make her cling tighter. Predictably, she does.

Lani, her younger twin, shifts at my other side. Not to be outdone, she scoots closer until her thigh presses against mine, her arm sliding possessively over my chest. Her ears—so similar to Lira’s, only shorter—twitch as if sensing the silent game being played.

They do this often. These quiet competitions. Pretend sweetness layered over years of unresolved rivalry. And me? I’m the prize they tug back and forth.

Can’t say I mind.

"Did you hear what she did?" Lani murmurs, soft as fur, but her tone is sharpened just enough to cut. "Running errands for a panther like some kind of attendant."

Lira giggles, nuzzling into my shoulder. "She’s always been that type, hasn’t she? Tail twitching whenever someone with status looks her way."

I flinch.

It’s not even about me—but it might as well be.

They say it with the same casual cruelty they use for herbivores in general, as if they’ve never had to work for anything in their lives. As if the world just handed them their place and said, good job existing.

They think Poppy wants to be like that?

They think I wanted to be like that?

I swing my legs off the bed and stand.

Their ears perk up, confused. Lani’s tail freezes where it had been slowly curling against my knee.

"I think you guys should go," I say.

Silence.

Lira blinks up at me. "Wait—are you mad?"

"No." I run a hand through my hair. "Just tired."

"But we just got here," Lani says, voice petulant. Her ears dip slightly, flicking as she pouts.

"I said I’m tired."

Lira’s tail droops a little as she climbs off the bed, brushing down her silvery fur with delicate fingers. Lani rises more reluctantly, her jaw tight. She doesn’t argue, though. She knows better.

They don’t press me.

Not when I use that voice.

Not when the lion in me leaks through the cracks.

The door clicks shut behind them, the soft swish of their twin tails disappearing down the hall.

I sit back down on the bed, staring at the floor.

Poppy isn’t perfect. She’s clingy. Calculated. Maybe even a little desperate. But she was there. When I was still trying to claw my way out of insignificance, she saw me. She chose me.

They didn’t.

And maybe I pretend it doesn’t matter. Maybe I smile and play my role and say the right things at the right time.

But it does matter.

I flex my fingers, claws extending from my hands. The light glints off them, sharp and golden. I exhale slowly and retract them.

I’m doing well. Everything’s going well. I should be above this. But emotions don’t always follow logic.

***

Lira

The hallway is quiet as we walk. The castle’s stone walls echo our footsteps, cool and ancient. My tail lashes once in irritation before I force it still.

I glance at my sister. Then I stop.

"Why would you say that?!" I hiss, fists clenched at my sides.

Lani’s ears twitch upward—just once, a flash of surprise—but her arms fold neatly across her chest like she’s unfazed.

"It’s not like I said anything wrong," she says smoothly.

"You know how he feels about that stupid Longear. You’d be better off badmouthing Lumiya—that wouldn’t even get a reaction out of him."

Lani sighs, her silver tail curling neatly around one ankle. "You’re right. I wasn’t thinking."

Her ears lower just slightly—a subtle gesture, but sincere. She’s genuinely sorry.

I sigh too, softer this time. The heat in my voice cools.

"No. I’m sorry for snapping at you," I say, taking her hand.

Her fingers squeeze mine in return, familiar and comforting. We’ve always been two halves of the same coin.

I’ll learn from this. Play nice. Smile sweetly. Wait for the moment his heart cools, and she’s nothing more than a sweet memory in the past.

We walk the rest of the way in silence, our footsteps aligned.

And I still can’t believe I have to share the affection of someone like Felix...

With a bloody Longear.

***

Felix

I walk down the familiar path toward the older student dorms. The stones beneath my feet are the same ones I used to tread daily—rough, uneven, patched in places like a wound barely stitched.

But the difference now is stark.

The walls are cracked in new places. Cobwebs cling to corners no one’s bothered to sweep. A damp smell clings to the air, faint but ever-present. The floorboards creak with age—or maybe protest—beneath my boots.

This building, once my home, now feels like a ghost of itself.

A student rounds the corner, makes eye contact with me—and scurries away like a rabbit before a lion. I sigh.

I remember being that student.

The contrast to my current lodging—a suite in the imperial wing, polished to perfection, gleaming with quiet power—isn’t lost on me. The further I rise, the more it feels like I’m leaving pieces of myself behind in places like this.

I stop in front of her door. My fingers hover for a second before I knock.

A pause. Then a soft, "Come in."

I push the door open.

And I’m hit by how different it all feels.

The second bed is gone. No clutter. The sheets are new, soft-looking, unlike the rough standard-issue ones everyone else gets. The faint scent of expensive soap and sugared berries clings to the air—definitely not the dorm-grade supplies.

And there she is.

Poppy.

Curled up in nightwear I don’t recognize, chewing on something that looks suspiciously like imported snacks. She turns when the door opens, and her eyes widen.

"Felix!" she gasps.