I won.

  Champion. Me. Luna. I’ve beaten Asher Deylin—the perfect soldier, the prodigy, the heir—and I’ve done it in front of thousands.

  Gods, I’m so fucking cool.

  I grinned to myself like a weirdo.

  The trophy is mine. The glory is mine. Everyone who’d ever doubted me—every noble who looked down their nose, every instructor who said I was too reckless, too undisciplined—they can all eat the dirt beneath my feet.

  I’d proven it. I was the best.

  “Luna, why are your eyes red?” A soft voice cut off my thoughts.

  “Nope. They’re not,” I replied, leaning against the railing, ignoring the sting from my stitches, and keeping my eyes pinned to the fight down below, refusing to look at her.

  Victoria stepped closer, directly beside me. I kept my head locked forward, my whole body stiff like a statue. She hummed inquisitively and stepped even closer, until her chest was brushing up against my shoulder. Silver eyes studied my face with that irritatingly perceptive gaze she always used.

  “They’re red, Luna.”

  “Nu-uh.” I angled away and cpped way too loud. “Good job, Rheya! Kick his ass!”

  “Alright. I’ll pretend I can’t see it then.”

  Down on the field, Rheya’s opponent—the Sunstone spear guy—swung wide. Way too wide. Anybody could have seen it coming.

  Rheya dropped low, twisted, and brought her leg around. The kick nded directly into his ribs. He skidded back, trying to reset.

  She closed the gap before he could raise his defense, her short bde fshing in quick, precise strikes. Every cut aimed at gaps in his armor, forcing him to defend, to retreat, to panic.

  “Yes! That’s it!” I spped the railing, ignoring the way my torso screamed in protest. “Don’t give him space!”

  “You didn’t cheer like that for me,” Kier spoke up from behind us.

  I waved a hand and peeked over my shoulder, catching him in the corner of my eye. “Yeah, obviously. I only cheer for cute girls. Are you a cute girl?”

  He looked off into the distance with a hand on his chin, pretending to consider it. “I... don’t think so?”

  Victoria’s face popped into my view. She’d moved from my other side and filled the space between Kier and me.

  “What about me?”

  Her question made me freeze. I hesitated to find a good answer. She leaned in. Inching closer the longer I thought about it. “Um...” I paused, mind still reeling. “You’re... super cute! I suppose. But do you really need me cheering for you?”

  Her expression narrowed in disappointment. “...I do not,” she said while turning away.

  Oops. Wrong answer.

  I opened my mouth to fix it—but Kier’s loud snort interrupted me, drawing a few irritated looks from nearby cadets.

  The growing cheers pulled my attention back. Kier, narrowly saved from my wrath once again. I had more important things to focus on.

  The guy tried to create distance with a sweep of his spear. Rheya slipped inside it. So close I thought the bde might have actually clipped her. Then she drove her dagger into the gap behind his knee pte.

  He buckled.

  She gave him a follow-up kick to the chest that sent him sprawling across the arena floor.

  Wow. I’d hate to be that guy. She’s kinda mean for such a petite thing. Elira’s like that, too. Is that a tiny-woman thing? Am I allowed to ask that? I’ll have to keep her happy just in case. Sheesh.

  “Winner! Rheya of Silverwood Order!”

  I leaned further over the railing—fuck the stitches—and waved both arms over my head. “RHEYA!” I screamed, loud as I could.

  People were definitely staring. I didn’t care. Let them stare.

  “HEYYY! RHEYA!” I cupped my hands around my mouth. “NICE WORK GIRL!”

  She frantically looked around until her eyes finally found me amongst the crowd. They met mine for just a second.

  I smiled and waved again.

  She went stiff. Her face flushed. Then she aimed her gaze toward the ground and sharply turned away.

  Such a terrible actor, trying to feign interest in anything that’s not me, huh?

  “...So cute,’ I muttered—and almost tipped over the rail.

  Victoria yanked me back by the colr before I could fall into the stands below. She closed her eyes and dragged a palm down her face.

  I looked back at her. She was holding me up like an ugly coat; my toes could barely graze the ground.

  An annoyed grumble came from her throat before she opened her eyes again. “Alright, we’re done here, right, Luna?”

  “Yep,” I said, gncing down at the field. “Promise fulfilled.”

  She studied me for a moment, then pced me down. “Good. Then let’s get ready.”

  I looked at her incredulously. “Ready for what?”

  “The closing and award ceremony,” she said. “You don’t intend to stay and watch the final match, do you?”

  Oh. Yeah. I forgot. Whoops.

  “Nope.” I shook my head way harder than necessary, spping her with my hair and getting revenge for that embarrassing scene. “I only wanted to see Rheya. I said I would.”

  Kier snickered. “Wow. Loyalty.”

  “Shut up.” I snapped my head and sent my luscious mane of white hair toward him as well.

  We left the viewing balcony and headed back into the corridors, with me following behind Victoria. She’d somehow managed to memorize the whole pce, helping us get back to the hall lined with each team’s staging room without a single wrong turn.

  The hall was packed. Armor cttered, people shouted.

  A few of the teams that still remained in the final round were loitering around in their armor. Soldiers, officials, and cadets eliminated on day one were all chatting in dispersed groups. Already prepared in crisp, tidy uniforms.

  One man’s rowdy ughter cut through all the other chatter.

  I looked over to catch whoever it was.

  That old guy’s here too? Should I say hi? Wait. What was his name again? Vernell... or... Vernard... something like that. Whatever, doesn’t matter, I suppose. He probably hates me anyway after I beat him up.

  His head whipped around as if he’d heard my thoughts. “Hey! Little dy!”

  I went stiff just inside the doorway to our room.

  The old man was staring straight at me with a ridiculous grin, eyes bright with recognition. “Thought that pressure felt familiar,” he said, waving me over. “Didn’t expect I’d get another chance to talk with the champ.”

  Huh?

  “Uh,” I said, pointing at myself. “Me?”

  “Hah! Have you got another white-haired demon hiding nearby?”

  “No?” I answered, tilting my head.

  I stood there, still struggling to understand how he had recognized me before he even saw me.

  Seriously? I haven’t done anything. I wasn’t even releasing Aura. I was literally just standing here. So how the fuck did he do it? And why the hell does it suddenly feel like the entire corridor has just gotten super quiet?

  Victoria glowered at him, then grabbed my sleeve and tugged, attempting to drag me into the room before I could figure it out. “Please don’t distract her.”

  “Wait, Vicky—”

  Vernon chuckled and started toward us with thudding footsteps. “Rex, rex. Not tryna spook you dies. Old habits.”

  I anchored myself with both arms on the doorframe to resist Victoria’s pull. “How did you know it was me,” I demanded, “before you even saw me?”

  He looked at me, taken aback, then broke into more ughter. “That’s easy, kid. Your Aura signature’s real loud.”

  “...Loud?” I repeated in confusion.

  He paused, studying my reaction, then nodded to himself. “Ah. Right. You probably can’t sense it yet.”

  “Sense what?”

  Victoria loudly cleared her throat and stepped between us. “We’re heading in to change for the ceremony.”

  Vernon raised both hands. Surrendering. “Then I won’t keep you.” He shifted his appraising gaze back to me. “Congratutions. And be careful, kid. Power like yours tends to leak out before you notice.”

  He turned away, ughter already fading back into the noise of the hall.

  I stood there, utterly confused. The adrenaline from watching Rheya fight was doing good work. The stitches barely registered anymore.

  Weird. Cryptic. What was that supposed to mean?

  Victoria stepped fully into the room and pointed. “Luna. Get changed. Kier, wait out there until we’re done.”

  Kier crossed his arms. “Wow. No hesitation. Not even a goodbye?”

  Victoria reached back and smmed the door shut in his face.

  Kier’s muffled voice came in from the other side of the door. “I’ll just make some new friends out here, I guess.”

  Victoria sighed and rolled her shoulders, already unfastening her armor. “Pair of children,” she muttered under her breath.

  I raised my arms and sniffed myself. The only thing that my nose caught was the scent of me, and maybe a bit of a musk. Only a bit, though. But I had to make sure.

  “Vi?”

  “What?” She answered without looking, still working on removing her gear.

  “Do I stink?”

  “...You smell like blood, sweat, and antiseptic.”

  I gasped. Her answer was a complete betrayal. “That’s not what I meant!”

  She went silent for a few seconds as she got the st of her armor off, dropping it into the pile at her feet.

  Then she finally gnced back at me. “Well,” she said, tone sharp enough to match her eyes, “if you’re referring to what that man said—then yes. You do.”

  I looked at her, confused with a brow raised. “Okay, but like... what does that mean? I’m not stinky, right?”

  “He was talking about your Aura,” Victoria replied while neatly organizing her weapon and gear. “You’re not suppressing it.”

  “What?! You can feel it too?!”

  “Yes, Luna. I can.” Her stare was ft with her patience running thin. “And don’t panic. You’ll learn how to control it soon. I have no doubt.”

  “Hmmm?” I leaned over the table between us and hopped up and down. “Then just teach me right now!” I stepped around the table with both hands raised out in front of me, like I was trying to grab something invisible.

  Victoria hummed, or maybe sighed. “It’s not something I can just show you. Suppression requires awareness, control, and consistency. You need to learn how your Aura reacts when you’re emotional.”

  I stared at her.

  She continued, unbothered by my look. “Treat it like breathing. Feel the edge of it at your skin, then let it settle back in. You already know how to let it out as you would exhale. Exhale is expansion; inhale is containment. Then learn to do it without thinking about it.”

  I stared. But harder. She stared back.

  “...That doesn’t make any sense. Do it, but don’t think about it? That’s stupid.”

  “It will,” she said in a calm tone before returning to her task of dressing herself.

  I puffed out my cheeks and flopped into one of the chairs near the wall. Then I crossed my arms dramatically and slumped back, gring across the room.

  “Hmph.” I made sure she heard me.

  She ignored it. “Get dressed.”

  “Just saying,” I muttered, sinking lower into the chair, “you could at least tell me in a way that doesn’t sound like you’re bullshitting me.”

  “Now, Luna.”

  I sighed and dragged myself upright.

  That was when it hit me.

  Wait... Yesterday, Victoria made me show up to the arena in my personal uniform. Then I went straight to Mari’s pce afterward in my inner yer. Which means.

  “Victoria,” I said slowly, eyes darting around the room, “is my uniform here?”

  She pointed a slender finger, back still turned, toward one of the benches along the wall.

  “Folded. Where you left it.”

  I looked over.

  There it was.

  Perfectly folded. Clean. Untouched. My real uniform. My perfect length, fred skirt. All the golden csps. And—most importantly—my big, pretty bow.

  A huge relief lifted the pressure off my heart.

  I rushed over and scooped it up, pressing it to my chest. “I missed you,” I whispered.

  A giggle came from the other side of the room. Victoria, somehow already half dressed, turned and gave me a pitying look. “You’re hugging clothing.”

  “It’s actually very... very important clothing.”

  She shook her head and went back to changing.

  The room went quiet. My torso pulled when I lifted my arms over my head, but it was manageable now. Healing fast, just like Maribelle promised. We both changed in silence. Only the occasional sounds of a csping buckle, a snapping colr, and the rustle of cloth settling over our bruised skin.

  I watched her finish fastening the st button on her uniform jacket. She did it so elegantly. Everything she did was like that.

  “Hey, Vi?”

  “Mm?” She focused on adjusting her colr.

  “You’re really pretty.”

  Her hands froze. Her shoulders went stiff.

  I kept going before I could lose my nerve. “So, uh, yeah. You don’t need me cheering for you because everyone’s already watching you anyway. That’s what I meant. Before.”

  Silence.

  I risked a gnce up.

  Victoria’s back was still to me, but the tips of her ears had gone pink. She cleared her throat. Twice. “...Thank you, Luna.”

  A rhythmic knocking rattled the door once we were decent.

  “You done?” Kier’s voice drifted through the wood, muffled but unmistakably annoying. “Or should I start narrating my tragic abandonment?”

  Victoria swung open the door with a nasty frown. “Get changed.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he chirped, sliding past her and into the room.

  She looked back at me. “Luna, let’s go.”

  One hour ter, we all sat together around the table in the center of the room.

  The faint humming from the arena swelled as the final match reached its conclusion.

  Victoria leaned in and fixed my crooked bow then ran her fingers along my colr, smoothing the creases. “It’s almost time,” she said softly. “They’ll clear the field, then everyone needs to line back up.”

  “Okay.” I swayed my body side to side, hands behind my back, squeezing the fabric of my cloak between my fingers. I was both buzzing and depressed. Not sad, but still hollow.

  The tournament was over. We’d won. I’d won. So why did it feel like something else ended?