The Academy of Unified Arts and Diplomacy prided itself on fostering future leaders of the world. Its top class, Class 1, was reserved exclusively for the elite: royalty, heirs, and others of extraordinary lineage as well as those one couldonly call geniuses. Naturally, Rynhara and Kaelira found themselves in this illustrious group, to the chagrin of everyone involved.
Rynhara adjusted her uniform, grumbling as she and Kaelira approached the grand classroom. "Why do you have to come to class with me?"
Kaelira smirked, her maid uniform perfectly pressed as always. "Someone has to make sure you don't burn down the place with lightning. Or accidentally kill someone."
Rynhara glared at her. "One rogue magic surge, and you never let me live it down."
As they entered the classroom, the air was thick with tension. Students from various kingdoms sat in their designated seats, their personal entourages standing at attention behind them. Every head turned as Rynhara walked in, her dragon wings slightly unfurled and her horns gleaming in the morning light.
"Great," Rynhara muttered under her breath. "I'm already the center of attention."
Kaelira leaned closer, whispering, "They're just intimidated by your natural charm."
" You mean my villainess reputation," Rynhara hissed back.
The first lesson was history, taught by a stern elf professor named Alarion. He began with a long-winded lecture about the founding of the academy and the importance of diplomacy.
Rynhara tried to pay attention, but her mind kept wandering. Her eyes drifted to her classmates:
Prince Alaric of the Radiant Empire, whose golden hair and blindingly perfect smile made him look like a living statue of Apollo.
Princess Veloria of the Frozen Highlands, who sat with an icy aura that seemed to chill the air around her.
Demon Prince Razen, brooding in the corner, his horns glowing faintly as he took notes with surprising diligence.
A smattering of other nobles and heirs, all radiating varying degrees of superiority.
By the time the professor asked a question, Rynhara was barely paying attention.
"Princess Rynhara," Alarion called, his tone clipped. "Perhaps you'd like to explain the significance of the Treaty of the Sunlit Realms?"
Rynhara blinked. "Uh… it stopped a war?"
The class snickered, and Alarion sighed. "While technically true, that is an oversimplification. Please review the assigned reading more thoroughly."
Kaelira coughed into her hand, clearly holding back laughter.
The next class was combat training, held in a sprawling arena outside. Each student was given a practice weapon to spar with asidemfrom those who had personal weapons.
When it was Rynhara's turn, she raised her ebony scythe, its dark blade gleaming ominously.
The instructor, a burly dwarf named Thargun, eyed her skeptically. "A scythe, eh? Bit over dramatic, don't you think?"
Rynhara shrugged. " As long as it works."
Her opponent was Prince Alaric, who wielded a gleaming golden longsword.
"Ready to test your mettle, Princess?" he asked, his tone friendly but condescending.
Rynhara smirked. "Don't cry when you lose, Prince Charming."
The fight began, and Rynhara quickly realized Alaric was no amateur. His strikes were swift and precise, forcing her to stay on the defensive.
"You've got some skill," Alaric said, dodging a sweeping arc of her scythe.
"And you've got a big ego," Rynhara shot back, channeling lightning magic into her weapon.
The blade crackled as she swung it downward, forcing Alaric to leap back. The crowd gasped as the ground where he'd stood erupted in sparks.
"Impressive," Alaric said, grinning. "But let's see how you handle this!"
He countered with a flash of radiant magic, his sword glowing as he charged. Rynhara sidestepped and spun her scythe in a defensive arc, deflecting the blow.
"Enough!" Thargun bellowed, stepping between them. "This is a sparring match, not a battlefield!"
Rynhara smirked as Alaric lowered his sword. "Good match, Prince Charming."
"You too, Villainess," he replied with a teasing grin.
The cafeteria was a grand hall filled with extravagant meals and nervous energy. Rynhara sat at a table with Kaelira, who was already devouring a plate of pastries.
Across the room, Prince Alaric and Princess Veloria were deep in conversation. Demon Prince Razen sat alone, glaring at his food as if it had personally offended him.
As Rynhara took a bite of her sandwich, a group of students approached her table. They were lower-ranked nobles, but their sneering expressions made their intentions clear.
"Well, if it isn't the Incarnation of Evil," one boy sneered.
Rynhara sighed. "Can I help you?"
"You think you're better than us just because you're the dragon princess?" another girl said, crossing her arms.
"Now that you mention it I do," Rynhara replied, bored. "But if you want to pick a fight, at least make it interesting."
The boy slammed his hands on the table. "You think you're tough? Let's see how tough you are without that scythe!"
Kaelira stood, her expression cold. "You really want to do this?"
The boy ignored her, lunging at Rynhara with a dagger. She sighed, sidestepping the attack and tripping him with her tail. He landed face-first in a bowl of soup.
The cafeteria erupted in laughter as the boy flailed, his face red with embarrassment.
"Anyone else?" Rynhara asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
The group quickly retreated, muttering under their breath.
Kaelira smirked. "Well handled, Princess."
"Thanks," Rynhara said, returning to her sandwich. "But now I've probably made more enemies."
That evening, Rynhara vented her frustrations to Tiamora.
"I'm isolated because of your villainy!" she complained, pacing the throne room. "Everyone treats me like a ticking time bomb!"
Tiamora laughed, reclining on her throne. "Good. Let them fear you. It's better to be respected than liked."
"I don't want to be feared!" Rynhara snapped. "I want to make friends, not enemies!"
Tiamora waved a hand dismissively. "Friends are overrated. Power is what matters."
"You're impossible," Rynhara muttered, throwing herself onto a nearby couch.
Kaelira, standing nearby, whispered under her breath, "At least no one called you 'Dragon Brat' today."
Rynhara groaned, burying her face in a pillow. "This is going to be a long year."