Chapter 261: 261: Rumors Have Teeth II
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The mother’s gaze sharpened. "It is a spirit that speaks, organizes crowds, and humiliates people with words. Do you want to be roasted in public."
The son went quiet.
The father waved his hand. "Go."
And the thin man left, already planning the faces his spies would wear.
While city predators sniffed the shop, academy predators sniffed something else.
Rhea Flame.
Rhea had been hard to ignore even before she became a rumor. She walked like she knew her own worth and did not need permission to exist. The red ribbon on her head was not a decoration. It was a flag.
Today, she was in the mana control yard, sleeves neat, posture straight, eyes sharp. The way she moved made other first-years check their form without meaning to.
John was there too, keeping his own stance simple, controlled, refusing to show the full reach of his skills.
He had noticed Rhea before.
Not because of her ribbon.
Because of how she watched.
She did not stare at people’s faces first. She watched hands. She watched breath timing. She watched where a person’s feet settled when they thought no one was looking.
That kind of watching came from training.
Or pain.
Rhea finished her drill and wiped sweat off her cheek with the back of her wrist. Her gaze slid toward John.
John’s chest tightened slightly.
Not fear.
Something else.
Fizz hovered near the edge of the practice field, pretending to behave like a proper academy contract spirit while clearly failing. He whispered, "She is looking again."
John ignored him, but his eyes met Rhea’s for half a second.
Rhea walked over, calm and direct.
"John," she said.
"Rhea," John replied.
Her gaze flicked to Fizz. "Lord Fizz."
Fizz puffed proudly. "Yes. Speak with respect."
Rhea’s mouth twitched slightly. "Always."
She turned back to John. "You’re holding back."
John did not deny it. "Yes."
Rhea studied his face. "Why?"
John answered simply. "Because attention is expensive."
Rhea’s eyes softened a fraction, like she understood that more than she wanted to.
Then she said quietly, "You’re not the only one who learned that."
John’s throat tightened.
Before he could answer, a group of students passed behind them, laughing too loudly, trying to pretend they were not watching.
Two girls whispered.
The first one said, "That’s Rhea Flame."
The second one said, "She’s talking to him again."
The first one asked the second one, "Why him?"
One boy muttered to his friend, "Because he’s interesting."
The friend snorted. "Or because she’s bored."
Rhea’s gaze flicked toward the whispers. The whispers died instantly. She didn’t threaten them. She didn’t glare. She simply existed with enough pressure that gossip remembered it had manners.
John exhaled. "You don’t have to talk to me in public."
Rhea’s brow lifted. "I want to."
Fizz leaned in and whispered loudly, "Good. She is brave and also snack-positive."
Rhea glanced at Fizz again. "Snack-positive."
Fizz nodded solemnly. "Important trait."
Rhea actually smiled this time, small but real. And because she smiled, John’s chest did something stupid.
He didn’t move. He didn’t reach out. He simply looked at her as if she had just shown him a warmer version of the world.
Rhea’s eyes held his.
Then, without warning, she stepped closer.
It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t a performance. It was a quick decision, like someone choosing to be brave once before fear could talk them out of it.
Her hand touched his sleeve lightly. And then she kissed him. It was a momentary kiss.
It was small. It was a fast one.
But real enough that the air around them seemed to stop moving for one breath.
John froze in shock.
Fizz froze too, his mouth opened, his eyes became wide, stunned into silence for the first time in his life.
Rhea pulled back almost immediately, her cheeks were slightly red, eyes were steady as if daring the world to comment.
John swallowed once, the warmth spreading through his chest like a flame he didn’t want to admit he needed.
Fizz finally found his voice again, whispering like a shocked old aunt. "Oh my..."
Rhea’s voice was quiet. "I wanted to see if you would flinch."
John’s throat was dry. "Did I?"
Rhea’s mouth twitched. "A little."
Fizz whispered, "He flinched internally."
John shot him a look.
Rhea stepped back, composure returning. "We’ll talk later," she said, as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t just ignited a bigger rumor bomb in the middle of the academy yard.
Then she turned and walked away with her ribbon bright against her hair like a warning.
Fizz drifted closer to John, voice low. "You are doomed if Sera finds out about it."
John forced his face back into calm. "No."
Fizz insisted, "Yes."
John started walking, because standing still was how rumors circled you like wolves.
He did not see them at first. But across the yard, near the archway, a group of boys in neat coats had stopped.
They weren’t first-years. They weren’t random. They wore the posture of people who followed someone important.
One of them whispered, "Did you see that?"
Another muttered, "That was Rhea Flame."
A third said, "Who is he?"
Then the leader of that group turned his head slowly toward John.
Ned White.
Ned’s face was handsome in the cold noble way. His eyes were light magic eyes. It was bright, sharp, used to being obeyed. His posture carried arrogance like a cloak.
He watched John for a long second. Not recognizing him yet. But recognizing something else.
A Threat.
And when Ned’s follower leaned in and whispered, "That boy is called John," Ned’s gaze sharpened further.
Another whisper followed, quieter, more poisonous.
"Rumor says he seduced Rhea. They are having an affair."
Ned’s jaw tightened.
Then another whisper, the one that made Ned’s hand curl slightly.
"Rhea Flame is supposed to be your fiancée."
Ned White’s face did not explode into rage.
He was a noble and John’s half brother. Nobles didn’t explode in public. They saved explosions for private rooms.
But his eyes hardened, and the air around him felt colder.
"A boy called John," Ned murmured, voice low enough that only his followers heard. "Close to Rhea."
He took one slow breath.
Then he said, "Find out everything about him."
His followers nodded like obedient dogs.
Ned’s gaze stayed on John’s back as John walked away.
And somewhere inside Ned, anger began building not like fire, but like a blade being sharpened.
Because if the rumor was true. If a void user was walking around in Heart Academy. If that void user was touching what Ned considered his...
Then Ned would not let it remain a rumor for long. He would make it a problem. And problems in the Heart Kingdom were solved in only two ways.
By disappearance. Or by blood.
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