CHAPTER 242: CURIOUSITY

Chapter 242

Edith

Curiosity. That’s all it was at first.

The Duchess’ panther. The one the rumors whispered about. The little Longear clinging to her skirts.

So I came to see for myself.

And what do I find?

...Cute.

Far cuter than I expected, honestly. Her ears twitch when she startles, her eyes dart away when I look too long. There’s an innocence to her that doesn’t fit this academy—a softness that should have been crushed by now.

She tries to hide it with her posture, with those stiff little shoulders, but it’s obvious.

Even sitting stiffly in her chair, I can see the outline of her chest beneath the uniform. Slender waist, curves that twitchy little tail doesn’t hide nearly well enough.

Tempting in its own way.

But still... nothing special. Not by noble standards. Not compared to the others I’ve seen clawing their way into power. She’d never stand out in a ballroom, never draw eyes in a court.

So why?

Why her?

The Duchess isn’t the type to waste her time. If she’s wrapped her claws around this one, then she’s seen something. Something the rest of us don’t.

I tilt my head, studying the bunny as she fidgets under my gaze, ears flat, cheeks flushed.

Hmmm.

Interesting.

But ultimately—none of my business.

I was only here to sate my curiosity. And now that I have, I can move on.

I rise smoothly, offer the girl a noncommittal smile, and murmur a polite goodbye. She blinks at me like a startled rabbit, and I can’t help the faint chuckle that escapes as I turn away.

Cute. But irrelevant.

My goals lie elsewhere.

I walk down the polished halls, my heels clicking in rhythm with the steady beat of my heart. I can already picture him—the little lion, golden and restless, bruised pride wrapped in royal silk. He’ll be easy enough to find. He always is.

That’s where my attention belongs.

Not on the bunny.

Not on the panther.

But on the prize far more grand.

The throne.

***

Felix

"Your Highness."

Lira’s voice is soft, practiced, the kind of tone she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. Her hand slips around my arm, holding on a little too tightly.

"Yeah." I answer without much thought, eyes fixed ahead.

The halls are too loud today. Whispers chase me everywhere I walk—about Poppy, about the trial, about the damned panther’s return. Every set of ears twitches when I pass, every mouth bends into a whisper. It makes my jaw ache from how hard I’m grinding my teeth.

Lira leans closer, her perfume cloying, sweet in a way that doesn’t suit her. "You shouldn’t let them bother you. People love to talk."

Easy for her to say. She’s not the one being made a spectacle of.

I finally glance at her, and she’s smiling up at me, lashes fluttering. It should be flattering, I guess. She’s beautiful enough, the Moonfox twins always are. But I feel nothing. Not the way I did with—

I cut the thought off before it finishes.

"Is there something you wanted?" I ask flatly, pulling my arm just slightly but she clings tighter, not enough to be bold, just enough to make her intention clear.

"I just wanted to spend time with you," she says quickly, her tail flicking with fake innocence. "Distract you from... everything."

Her voice is sweet, practiced. Too sweet.

And maybe she’s not wrong. I’ve been tense, coiled tight with pressure from classes, lessons, the stares, the whispers. Maybe a distraction would help—

But then I see her.

Walking toward us, blonde hair catching the light, her green eyes sharp and alive. Edith Veyron.

The world narrows.

For a moment, the murmurs in the hallway fade, the air itself goes thinner. She’s beautiful in a way that makes my chest lock up—elegant, poised, every step like she was born knowing she belongs under a spotlight.

I yank my arm free from Lira without a thought.

Her little gasp of protest barely registers.

All I can focus on is Edith, and the curve of her lips when her gaze slides to me.

"Your Highness." Edith dips into a graceful bow, her blonde hair slipping forward like liquid gold before she straightens again.

"Miss Veyron," I reply, the words coming out steadier than I feel.

Her lips curve—polite, measured—but her eyes hold mine a fraction too long, and it sends an odd heat crawling under my collar.

Lira coughs sharply, breaking the connection.

"Oh—my apologies. And you are?" Edith asks, turning her gaze toward her at last.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Lira snaps, tail bristling.

My mood sours. Why is she being unreasonable?

Edith only inclines her head slightly, unruffled. "Forgive me. I’m not from the capital, and I’m still new. I haven’t yet had the time... to make proper acquaintances."

Her poise makes the sharpness of Lira’s tone feel childish by comparison.

"Lira Moonfox," Lira bites out, as if the name alone should make Edith bow deeper.

"A pleasure to meet you," Edith says, her voice smooth, unfazed. Her green eyes flick back to me, the faintest smile curving her lips. "Well, Your Highness, a word please."

The request is gentle, but it feels more like a summons.

I shift, instinctively pulling away to follow, when Lira’s fingers tighten on my sleeve. A silent plea, sharp in the way her claws graze the fabric.

I glance at her, at the flush in her cheeks and the stiff lift of her chin. She’s clinging, but not boldly—just enough to remind me she’s there.

Edith waits. Perfectly patient. Perfectly poised. Her gaze doesn’t waver, as though she already knows which way I’ll go.

The tension coils in my chest, suffocating.

"I’ll see you later," I murmur to Lira, prying her hand from my arm.

Her face flickers—hurt, frustration, anger all in one—but I turn before I can read more.

One step, then another, and I’m at Edith’s side.

Guilt flickers—quick, sharp—as I think of Lira still standing there. For a heartbeat I imagine her eyes on my back, wide and wounded.

Edith shifts closer, her perfume subtle amber, green tea, something light but grounding. It makes the back of my neck heat. The feeling of guilt, fades away.