Chapter 264: Morning Of Bad Choices
"Ah, my lovely students!" Dante chimed brightly, grinning far too wide for such an early hour. "What a wonderfully sunny day, isn’t it?"
The way he looked at them made it painfully clear he had just found his chosen victims for an early morning torture session.
"P-Professor Dante, g-good morning to you," one of the girls stammered, staring at him in shock, the colour draining from her face as though life had just been sucked out of her.
Dante’s eyes brightened as he tilted his head slightly. "I see you have enough time to chit-chat rather than scurrying away like rats in a cheese hunt before their classes, just like everyone else is."
He clapped his hands together suddenly, making them jump in fright, and added cheerfully, "That’s wonderful! I was just looking for someone to assist me in paying a visit to the hounds to wish them a lovely morning. You see, they get quite lonely when no one comes to see them. Perhaps you two would like to accompany me."
At the mention of the hounds, whatever little colour remained on their faces drained completely. Dante was mildly surprised they didn’t collapse on the spot, resembling those deranged statues back in the Palace of Demos.
"So!" Dante prompted again in his overly enthusiastic tone. "What do you say?"
The girls could barely speak. "P-P-Professor, I-I just-"
"Oh dear," Dante cut in brightly. "Don’t tell me you’re about to make an excuse to slip away?" he asked, sounding almost delighted.
"N-no, that’s n-not it, Professor," the second girl replied, shivering as though she had been thrown into a frozen lake.
Dante took in their reaction, and it only fed his sadistic delight. He was just about to push them further when the sharp click of heels echoed from another side of the corridor, not too far away.
Dante’s crimson eyes shifted from the shivering, dried twigs of students to a graceful woman approaching them. She was clad in a black dress, her purple hair framing a face that was marked by cool indifference, grey eyes observing everything with quiet accuracy.
At the sight of her, Dante’s grin softened into something almost genuine as he drawled, "Well, well, well! If it isn’t Professor Seira!" He dipped his head slightly. "A very good morning to you."
Seira’s grey eyes flicked from his wide grin to the two trembling students, who looked as though they had narrowly survived being pelted with rocks.
She could easily imagine what Dante had been up to.
Sighing inwardly, she replied, "A very good morning to you, too, Professor Dante."
Her gaze then settled on the quivering girls, who were now silently begging her for salvation. "And what are you two doing here instead of preparing for your class?" she asked coolly. "Go. Now. Unless you wish to be punished for missing it."
"R-right away, Professor," the students said in unison, bowing to her with visible gratitude for saving them from their impending doom. They then fled down the corridor, running as though a troll had been unleashed to hunt them down.
Watching them disappear, Dante turned his crimson eyes back to Seira and clicked his tongue in displeasure. "And there goes my morning amusement."
"You really should stop targeting students like this," Seira replied calmly. "The line outside the therapy room is already longer than necessary."
"Well," Dante chimed in lightly, "I think they could all use a bit of therapy if they’re going to spout such nonsense first thing in the morning."
Seira shook her head faintly. "You can’t stop everyone, Dante. We both knew rumours would spread, and they won’t stop until the source of those rumours returns to the academy."
Dante let out an exaggerated sigh. "Ah... I do wonder when my star students will return." He glanced at her sideways. "Any news?"
"Same as the last update. Princess Evelyn is still... you know," Seira said quietly, leaving the rest unsaid, well aware of the many ears and eyes around them.
They began walking together, and Seira added, "I came to fetch you. Headmaster Charles wishes to see you in his office."
Dante let out a low chuckle. "Don’t tell me I’m about to get an earful for having a little fun around the academy. But really, can you blame me? With my bright ones missing, it’s been dreadfully dull."
Seira rolled her eyes. "For once, it’s not about that. I heard there’s a transfer student joining mid-term."
Dante’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Really? And who might that be? I thought we’d already taken in enough students this semester."
Seira shrugged lightly. "Who knows? Headmaster Charles didn’t share many details. I was only asked to fetch you."
"Well then..." Dante’s eyes gleamed with interest at the thought of fresh entertainment. "I suppose I’d better find out."
With that, he waltzed off towards the headmaster’s office, curiosity and mischief lighting his stride.
...
Back in Dracoria Palace, things appeared calm on the surface as Damien, Cece, and Edward sat on the balcony of Ivan’s chambers, enjoying their breakfast in relative peace.
Arthur was the only member of the royal staff permitted to enter the room, so he busied himself tidying the space while they ate, the meal having been personally brought by him.
He knew his prince was not around, though for the life of him, he could not quite figure out how His Highness managed to appear and disappear without anyone ever noticing.
Still, the ever loyal Arthur could only admire and silently praise the prince’s impeccable stealth.
He knew it was only a matter of time before Ivan showed up again. And so, that morning, Arthur took his own sweet time cleaning every corner of the room thoroughly, all in the hope of finally catching a glimpse of exactly how the prince slipped in and out of the palace so freely.
’Maybe it’s through a secret door,’ he thought. But then his gaze snapped to the tall, expansive windows overlooking the sea.
’Or perhaps he comes in through the window,’ he mused, since no one ever watched the route from the sea. After all, Ivan’s chambers were situated impossibly high, and in Arthur’s mind, only his extraordinary prince could manage such a feat.
Nodding to himself at the conclusion he had reached, Arthur moved towards the door leading to Ivan’s walk-in wardrobe and bathroom.
He began arranging things there, and before he realised it, he found himself humming a tune. The palace guests were busy outside, enjoying their breakfast, and no one was around to catch him in the act. Not that it truly mattered, but Arthur did have a reputation to maintain, ever stoic and elegant while carrying out his royal duties.
In an unusually good mood, he continued humming softly, his footsteps light as he picked up fresh towels to replace the used ones in the bathroom.
Suddenly, his keen ears caught a sound coming from within.
Arthur knew the bathroom had been empty; he had been there not long ago to clean it, and everyone residing in the chambers was currently out on the balcony.
’What was that? Did I imagine it?’ he wondered. But his heartbeat quickened when he clearly heard the unmistakable click of someone taking a step forward.
’No! Could it be an intruder?’ Panic screamed through his mind.
’Who would dare come in broad daylight like this? Do they not fear God?’ He immediately corrected himself. ’Scratch that. Do they not fear His Highness?!’
Unease surged through him as he realised he was not nearly as skilled in combat as Alex or Caleb. Still, life in the royal palace had taught him some basic self-defence, enough, at the very least, to subdue a spy should he encounter one.
Carefully setting the towels down on the dressing table, Arthur’s red eyes scanned the room for anything, anything at all, that could serve as a weapon. Or rather, he thought grimly, something to protect His Highness’s people just beyond the doors.
Unable to find anything more suitable, Arthur grabbed Ivan’s impeccably polished shoes, which he had brushed with utmost devotion just moments earlier, as he did with every task entrusted to him.
He silently mourned their possible fate and sent a quick prayer to God, begging that they receive no damage. To Arthur, his prince’s shoes were sacred, just like everything else that belonged to Ivan.
Moving with careful, stealthy steps across the soft carpeted floor, he approached the door leading to the bathroom, fully intent on ambushing whoever dared to step out.
Tick...tick....tick.
The only sound echoing through the chamber was the steady ticking of the clock as Arthur’s frantic red eyes fixed on the doorknob, which began to turn ever so slowly.
He gulped hard, cold sweat breaking out across his back, yet he refused to cower.
Summoning every ounce of his patriotic resolve, he braced himself, one foot forward and the other back, poised to strike, Ivan’s shiny shoes raised high above his head, ready to rain down upon the intruder.
And then....the door finally opened.
