Chapter 145: The First Lesson
The stone beneath Cassian was colder than it looked. It cut through the thin silk of his trousers and seeped into his skin like winter frost. Or perhaps it wasn’t the stone at all—perhaps it was his nerves. That coiled, suffocating tightness in his chest refused to loosen, and his fingers trembled no matter how tightly he laced them together in his lap.
He didn’t raise his eyes. Not yet.
Not as the demon woman entered the center of the circular chamber, moving with a grace that bordered on terrifying. She didn’t walk—she commanded. Every step she took was calculated, every movement so precise it spoke of someone who had trained beasts larger than buildings and made kings kneel in dust. The staff in her hand made no sound against the polished black floor, and yet somehow it echoed in the hollow pit of his stomach.
She stopped.
"Etiquette," she said at last, her voice cool and razor-edged, "is not merely how you eat, how you bow, or how you hold your tongue. It is about survival."
Cassian lifted his eyes.
She turned her head slowly, her gaze slicing through the room like a sharpened blade. Her eyes passed over each student, unreadable and severe, until—briefly—they landed on him. Just for a second. But long enough for Cassian to know she saw everything. The tightness in his shoulders. The way he sat too stiffly. The quiet desperation he thought he had hidden so well.
"In this palace," she continued, "knowledge is power. Power is influence. And influence, my little lords and ladies, determines whether you are admired... or devoured."
A chill crawled down his spine.
Cassian swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as sand. Around him, the other students didn’t flinch. The girl carved from twilight lounged in her seat like a queen without a crown, one leg crossed over the other, lips painted in the deep, decadent red of blood and wine.
The silver-haired beast-boy tilted his head in curiosity, tail flicking lazily, a sharp grin tugging at his lips. And the fae boy—effortless and smug—leaned back in his chair like he had taken this exact lesson a hundred times before.
Cassian sat among them like an imposter wearing someone else’s skin.