The applause was still ringing in my ears as I stepped down from the stage, the buzz of voices swelling around me.
My speech had gone better than expected, I supposed. At least, no one had fainted from the weight of my magic aura, and most of the students seemed inspired or at least interested.
Though if I were being honest, I cared very little about their opinions.
What I cared about was the brief moment during my speech when my eyes found her. Xyra Eldarion.
She hadn't changed much platinum hair shimmering in the light, her ice-blue gaze sharp and calculating, a face sculpted like she was meant to rule.
But what made my jaw clench was the man beside her. Broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and radiating an air of polished nobility, he held her hand as if she were already his.
Fiancé, I assumed. He certainly looked the part. Perfect, pristine, just like her world.
I smirked to myself. The sight of them together made my decision to attend her graduation banquet feel all the more satisfying. If I were going to play the game, I might as well enjoy it.
But first, I had to survive this utterly dull gauntlet of questions.
The principal had stopped me before I could slip away, his round face flushed with enthusiasm. "Captain Khasar, would you mind taking a few questions from the students? It would mean so much to them."
Of course, I minded. But I couldn't exactly teleport away with him staring at me like I was their captain. So, I forced a smile, the kind that barely touched my eyes. "Sure. A few questions."
It turned out that "a few" translated to "an endless stream" in his mind.
The students crowded around me, their faces alight with excitement. Some were barely more than children, looking at me as if I'd walked straight out of a legend.
Others, older and clearly aspiring knight-mages themselves, bombarded me with questions about training, magic techniques, and whether I'd ever fought a dragon.
I answered mechanically, my tone clipped but polite enough to avoid outright hostility.
"How did you become a captain so young?"
"Hard work," I said, my voice flat. "And being better than everyone else."
"Do you have any advice for aspiring mages?"
"Don't die in your first battle."
"Is it true you once single-handedly took down a rebel army?"
"That's classified."
The crowd laughed, and I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
The only thing keeping me from snapping at them to leave me alone was the memory of Xyra's face in the crowd.
Seeing her again had stirred something in me annoyance, maybe, or something else I didn't want to examine too closely right now.
Finally, the last student peeled away, and I started to make my escape when a voice stopped me.
"Captain Khasar."
I turned, and there he was—the king. Regal and imposing, with a crown that gleamed under the fading sunlight, he carried himself with the authority of someone who knew exactly how much power he held.
"Your Majesty," I said, bowing slightly out of habit more than respect.
He smiled, a calculated expression that didn't reach his eyes. "Your speech was remarkable. You've done our kingdom proud."
"Thank you," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. Compliments from people like him were as hollow as they were predictable.
"I'd like to extend a personal invitation," he continued, his gaze sharp. "We're hosting a banquet tonight to celebrate my daughter's graduation. I'd be honored if you attended."
Daughter. Xyra. Of course.
My lips curved into a faint smirk. "I'd be delighted, Your Majesty."
"Good. I'll see you tonight."
As soon as he turned away, I teleported.
The familiar sensation of being torn through space hit me, and a second later, I was standing in the living room of my family's house.
"Ren!"
My mother's voice cut through the air like a blade, and I winced inwardly. She was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed, her expression thunderous.
Beside her was my father, ever the picture of calm indifference, and leaning against the wall was Galen, my older brother, looking more exasperated than anything else.
But what caught my attention was the woman standing near the door, her face flushed with anger.
"That's her!" she cried, pointing a trembling finger at me. "She broke my heart!"
Oh, for the love of—
"Mother," I began, but she cut me off.
"Ren Khasar!" she snapped, rising to her feet. "What is the meaning of this? This poor girl says you've been toying with her affections!"
"It's not what you think," I said, though the smirk tugging at my lips probably didn't help my case.
The woman rounded on me, her eyes brimming with tears. "You said I was special! That you cared about me!"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I said you were special that night. Context matters."
The room erupted into chaos.
"You're unbelievable!" my mother shouted, her face red with fury. "Do you have any idea what this does to our reputation?"
"Relax," my father said, leaning back in his chair. "She's young. Let her have her fun."
"Fun?" my mother echoed, her voice rising. "She's turning our house into a scandal!"
Galen snorted, pushing off the wall. "It's not even the scandal part that gets me," he said. "It's the sheer volume. How does someone like you pull this many women?"
"Excuse me?" I shot back, my tone sharp.
"I'm just saying," he continued, gesturing vaguely at me. "You look like a rebel who crawled out of a tavern fight, and yet—"
"You're just jealous," I interrupted, crossing my arms. "Not my fault I have charm."
"Charm?" the woman who'd been yelling earlier spat. "You're insufferable!"
"Okay, time out," I said, holding up my hands. "This is getting ridiculous."
"Ridiculous?" my mother fumed. "You're going to a banquet tonight, and you will behave like a proper person !"
"Sure," I said, smirking again. "Whatever you say."
With that, I turned and headed for the stairs, ignoring the continued chaos behind me.
Once in my room, I closed the door, leaning against it for a moment. The space was immaculate, as always dark wood floors, a sleek black bedspread, and a desk piled neatly with papers and books.
A few trophies and medals lined the shelves, evidence of achievements I cared little about.
I stripped off my shirt and pants, tossing them onto a chair, and headed for the bathroom. The hot water was a welcome relief, washing away the lingering tension of the day.
As I stood under the stream, I thought about the banquet. About Xyra. About the way she'd looked at me or rather, the way she'd barely looked at me.
By the time I stepped out of the shower and dressed in a black suit , I'd made up my mind.
I wasn't going to the banquet to make peace or mend bridges.
I was going to remind Xyra Eldarion exactly who I was.