The next morning, the Academy was on lockdown. Ambrose had to slip into campus over one of the high gates near the castle to actually make it back into the grounds, and only succeeded because of the Pantrada’s ability to melt into the shadow. Even then, she was nearly caught by the increased guard, who were patrolling on high alert searching for any evidence of the attacker.

  Part of Ambrose wondered why they would bother. If the Chimera returned to the Academy, the result would be a slaughter. The Manticore may not have known it, but she had injured or murdered most of the powerful people in the academy singlehandedly. Another assault would have completely crushed the defenses in place. Luckily, the Chimera had no such plan if what Ambrose had witnessed bore any weight. She was headed inland, down river to some unknown destination.

  At that point, the Beastiary was wide awake. She had gotten most of the sleep she needed before the horns had signalled across the castle town, and so she didn’t return to the dorms, instead, roaming quietly across the campus and watching as servants went about working on repairs. The use of class skills and magic made the repairs quick and simple, though the work done was obviously a patch and not meant to permanently replace the structures being mended.

  The doors to the academy were replaced with a lighter pair of wooden doors lacking the grandeur and emblems which had been on the original set. Several tiles in the entryway to the main academy building had to be pulled up and then replaced. Even the chunks of ground which had been ruined or blown up the day before had budding grass and had been evened out by mages.

  Still, Ambrose could sense that there was a somber mood in the air. It was very likely that Mathilde and Adgaton hadn't survived the attack on the academy. Ambrose didn't know the specifics on resurrection artifacts, but she knew they were expensive and had strict conditions to work.

  The prince, and the two M Rank guests were nowhere to be seen, likely recovering or being treated for their injuries. She found herself hoping for their safety and quick recovery as she wandered the rest of the campus.

  Wherever the Manticore had passed, there were signs of her presence. Bloodstains on the grass or chunks of rock, metal, or brick stuck out in bold statements that an attack had happened. The fact that one person could cause so much devastation was… perspective shifting to say the least.

  For the long hours of night left, Ambrose simply wandered the grounds, quietly thinking to herself, reviewing her night and everything that had occurred. From the attack, to her first real kiss, the night had been wild. She spent so long lost in her thoughts that she felt the warmth of the sun kissing her cheeks before she pulled herself back into the present.

  The first rays of dawn streamed into being on the horizon, painting dazzling oranges across the clouds. The cheery sight stood in blatant contrast to the reality of mere hours before. In the open area between the buildings and dorms, Ambrose found herself watching people trudging to breakfast.

  She wasn't particularly hungry, but she could eat. Shifting to her Holstaurus form, the girl adjusted her pretty, new uniform and headed on into the main building after some of the other students. While her appearance did get her a second and third glance from the elves, halflings and humans working on the entryway, no one stopped her.

  Once she was in the dining hall, she found her seat from the morning before, noting that it wasn't occupied. Having a seat, she waited to be served. The elf woman from the day before passed by, dropping off a glass of the pink juice, though she seemed to hesitate until Ambrose gave her a warm smile. “Ah, so you are the same person. I had heard word that when you transformed you became a savage beast, hell-bent on murder and looked completely different. So when I saw you, I couldn't help but wonder what I was in for,” she said with a nervous laugh.

  Ambrose shook her head, careful of the positioning of her longhorns. “No, thank you for letting me know, but I'm not bloodthirsty. Just hungry for a normal breakfast,” Ambrose said with a smile before ordering a strong vegetarian breakfast to satisfy her more herbivorous palate.

  Once the serving woman had left, Ambrose tried to drift off into her own thoughts only to find Nayeli standing on the opposite side of the table with her lackeys, tossing an envelope in her direction. Ambrose managed to pin the letter to the table with her hand, only to find that it had a prestigious looking rare wax seal on it.

  “Brother invites you to join us and the Heiress of Advelheid for dinner. He'd like to discuss your accommodations," Nayeli said before pulling out a chair to take a seat. The elf nervously seated herself next to the noble woman. The halfling scowled at Ambrose before taking her seat as well, leaving the table mostly full, save for two chairs.

  “I… don't really think I'm interested,” Ambrose said, honestly. While she was interested to know that the prince was alive and well, and she had some interest in the Heiress, the idea of going to a dinner to sit between the two of them while they tossed about politicking and veiled insults didn't appeal to her at all.

  “Excellent,” Nayeli said with a smile, seeming not to have heard Ambrose properly. “A gown and shoes have been sent to your room as well as a servant gi-”

  Ambrose could see the change on her face when she realized that Ambrose had rejected the invitation. Her smile turned into a perturbed frown. “What?! Why?!”

  “The only reason for me to be there is for one of them to try and use me as some form of playing piece against the other,” Ambrose sighed. “There is no benefit for me in being a playing piece for young nobles when I could be training, or exploring the city. Professor Gulfrig told me that level ten is around where students are allowed to try dungeons in groups. Since I'm getting close to that point, I think it would benefit me more to get a firm grasp on my surroundings, and whatever learning there is to do in my classes.”

  “You… Are you serious?” the Princess asked, even as breakfasts were served around their table.

  “Of course I am. What is there to joke about?” Ambrose asked, glancing at the Princess before taking up her utensils and beginning to dig into her own breakfast.

  “This is an opportunity for you to involve yourself in major decisions about the school and the kingdom. Not to mention, as nobility it’s your obligation to attend. What if-” the Princess began, her tone turning haughty and annoying.

  “Nayeli. Remember the terms of our duel?” Ambrose asked, not even looking at her. With lettuce on her fork, she waited for the princess to answer.

  “I… uh… Yes. I will not yell, not ask anyone into servitude and I will not challenge anyone for the remainder of the semester,” Nayeli said, looking chastised.

  “You will be pleasant company for the remainder of the semester. I find this line of conversation distinctly unpleasant,” Ambrose said, looking Nayeli in the eyes. The Princess’s eyes widened and she immediately nodded and looked away.

  “I.. um… What classes are you attending today?” she asked, attempting to change the subject.

  “I was supposed to take an introduction to magical skill application class, but I don't think that instructor will be available today. So my first class will likely be Diestol Histories, followed by introduction to combat, and then… Dungeoneering 101. Then Creative Skill Application at the end of the day,” Ambrose listed off, wincing a little as she began to notice the pressure in her chest.

  Noting that she would need to pass by her dorm room before her first class, the Beastiary put it from her mind and returned her attention to the princess. “How about you? Do second years have strict schedules?” Ambrose asked.

  “Less than you'd think. Most of our work is done outside of the city walls, searching for dungeons and making dives. It's when we return to the school that we recount our progress, our findings, and take some specialized classes to fill any gaps we might have,” Nayeli said with a smile to both of her team members.

  The halfling gave a proud smile, straightening her back and taking a big bite of her sausage. The elven woman's cheeks turned a light pink. The trio seemed to have done quite well for themselves this far. Just looking at them made Ambrose wonder what her own team would eventually look like when she started attempting dives of her own. Would she have many members, or could she go solo for a while? Would she be able to make friends and strong bonds with other divers.

  For the rest of breakfast, the trio talked about classes and potential places to dive, and once they were all done eating, Ambrose returned to her dorm to tend to a certain need she'd forgotten about.

  —

  Olferig Garren von Diestol, sat at the head of a long, redwood table, lined with dining placements from one head to the other, leaning heavily on one of his armrests as he remained lost in thought. The events of the night before still haunted him. He had lost Mathilde, and nearly lost Adgaton, who had only been spared a painful death by the barbs in his body having been removed at some point during the Prince’s fight with the Manticore. Even then, keeping his own life during the conflict had nearly been a losing situation.

  The monster had overpowered and outmatched him, and if not for the M Rank warriors the Heiress had brought with her, he would surely have died as well. Seeing that, he knew he needed the power that the girl, Ambrose, potentially could offer to his own kingdom and family. He needed that much more than he had predicted. Yet the girl was stubborn, and aware of her value in a way that already had her shirking his authority. She didn't respect him. Ambrose didn't seem to see value in him or his family at all. He needed that to change.

  His younger sister Nayeli was the first to arrive, dressed in proper attire for a dinner with nobles, including their Eldest brother. She was wreathed in nice yellow silks and orange sashes that didn't take away from the gentle brown of her hair. For a young woman with the S rank so valued by the family, Olferig found that she still looked rather plain. Though he would never tell her so. It would likely bring her great pain as she valued his opinion greatly.

  “Nayeli. How was your day?” he asked, choosing to try and make strides toward solving his issues.

  “It has been a fine day, brother. I would say mostly successful,” she said, taking her seat one space away from him, on his left. Their Eldest sister would take the spot directly on his left. Their brother, the one on his right. While Brandr Vargut von Diestol was next in the line of succession, he was not yet king, and could not demand Olferig’s place at the head of the table in his own establishment.

  “Mostly?” Olferig asked, a brow raised.

  “Yes… Ambrose refused the invitation to dinner, which is why she didn't arrive with me,” Nayeli confessed, looking the other way. It was obvious that she expected him to be angry at those results. Deep down, he was furious. Why would that woman refuse to appear at such an important dinner?

  “Did she give a reason?” He asked, maintaining a calm, collected tone.

  Nayeli seemed ready to answer, but just as she was starting, the doors opened. Beatrix Rosarie of the Advelhein Empire stepped into the room with the flowing grace of a timeless dancer. Her body was embraced warmly by a red and white dress that shimmered as though made of scales plucked from the hides of dragons. Her platinum jewelry dripped from her slender wrists and neck, while her hair remained done up immaculately. She was a woman the likes of which the prince had rarely seen, a creature of fine breeding and finer bearing. Everything about her was grace and refinement and she wore it well.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The woman who followed her in was a sensual thing. Even with the veil to cover her face, Margaux was truly a sight to behold, and her beauty was something that threatened to tear free from her clothes. The lavender and violet diaphanous silks layered over her skin left only the most tantalizing details to the imagination, and Olferig took a moment to master himself before he did something unbefitting of his station.

  The pair of them curtseyed his way and he stood to bow before the women moved to the other head of the Table. Beatrix seated herself and sighed, looking over the table at Olferig. “Second Prince. It is a pleasure to see you again in good health. I was fearful you might be in poor condition after what Margaux described to me from the night before,” the Heiress said.

  “I was lucky,” Olferig admitted, eying Margaux who looked back at him with a pretty twinkle in her eyes. “If not for the assistance of your guard, I am fairly certain I would be counted among the lost. Lady Margaux and you, fair Heiress, both have my gratitude.”

  The Heiress nodded, but said nothing more on the matter, looking at the other placements at the table. “Will the Blessed and Honored Lady Di be in attendance this evening?” she asked, her white lashes fluttering with interest as she asked after the other woman. Olferig couldn't stop himself from wincing, and glancing over at Nayeli as the question came his way.

  The Heiress immediately picked up on his disappointed expression and where his eyes moved. Her gaze locked on Nayeli and she scowled. “Is she refusing because of something this girl did?” the Heiress asked, her voice sweet, but not sweet enough to cover the barbs of venomous, murderous intent that prepared to latch themselves into Olferig's little sister.

  “No,” Olferig said, pulling the Heiress’s ire off of his sister. “When you arrived she was about to report to me Ambrose's reasons for refusing to attend,” he explained, before looking back to Nayeli, who seemed even more nervous.

  “Ah. Then please tell us,” the Heiress requested, giving the Third Princess her undivided, if less hostile, attention.

  “Sh-she said that she saw no benefit in attendance,” Nayeli said, looking nervously between the Heiress and her big brother. “She said that you two would simply try using her as a playing piece against one another, and she would rather head into the city to gain a better understanding of the area. She's nearing level ten, and wants to know the area before she starts diving dungeons.

  Olferig nearly palmed his own face in embarrassment as the news was delivered. Her low opinion of him had not improved at all.

  “It pains me that she thinks I would treat her as poorly as the people of Diestol have,” the Heiress said, leaning back into her seat with a sigh. “She's so eager to defend herself from being used and taken advantage of it really makes me wonder just how you convinced her to stay here.”

  The words stung, and Olferig had no way to counter them. He hadn't had any time to work on Ambrose or her opinion of Diestol. There hadn't been a free moment to go and speak to her in person or to ‘treat her properly’. She had arrived, been tested, slept, gotten into a fight with his sister, won that fight, and then the Heiress had arrived. Once the Heiress had arrived, she'd participated in a duel that the prince had been genuinely impressed with, but the girl had done so after declaring she had no allegiance to him and openly didn't feel positively toward him. After that, she'd spent a day training with her mentor.

  That very night, the Academy came under attack. He had spent the morning recovering from wounds inflicted by claws that had punched through an enchanted steel plate to pierce his chest. There had been no time… none…

  Before he could find an answer or a defense, the door into the dining room opened again and three people entered.

  The first was his eldest brother, tall and powerful. He lacked the Regality of the Heiress, but his aura still commanded respect. He was bigger than Olferig, more muscular, as though he spent every waking moment in combat with wild beasts. His gold wire hair and fierce green eyes. His broad shoulders were surrounded by thick furs that came down his back in a cloak. Beneath that, he wore a tunic that strained at the neck to contain his powerful pectoral muscles and trimmed at his waist, where his trousers were belted.

  The Crown Prince bowed to the Heiress before turning to Olferig and smiling. Moving over, he patted the second Prince in the shoulder while their raven haired first sister entered the room. As was customary for her, she had dressed in black, silk and lace draped across her body. The first princess made no attempt to show him any recognition, and curtseyed to the Heiress before moving to sit herself next to their sister. Laecia Bristol von Diestol was a vision of dark beauty.

  The last person to enter the room was the Scion of Light, Lyssandrea Gulfrig. Olferig had invited her in order to get some information on Ambrose, and to hopefully give her a familiar face at the table when she attended. Her empty place at the table would be a glaring piece of evidence to his own failure to gain the girl's confidence.

  Lyssandrea was, as always, an exemplar of propriety, bowing in turn to each person in the room before finding one of the two empty places at the table and seating herself.

  “Now that we are… all here,” Olferig sighed, “we can begin. Thank you all for your attendance. I had hoped to discuss a number of things with each of you over a feast.”

  “Of course, Brother,” Brandr said with a smile, leaning back and looking at his plate with obvious excitement for the meal.

  “I wouldn’t miss my little brother’s special get together. Not after what just went down at the castle,” Laecia purred, a devious smile on her face. “Though I see you miscounted the seats for this meal. An empty placement at a full table looks tacky. Especially in front of esteemed guests. You should know better.”

  Olferig could feel his cheeks redden as his big sister teased him in front of the Heiress and their brother.. Of course Laecia would take the opportunity to embarrass him further. She was just the type to dig in the knife and twist it. “No. We were expecting another guest who couldn’t attend. It was last minute,” he said. Not sure if he was saving face, or condemning himself.

  “Oh? And who was this guest?” his sister asked, placing an elbow onto the table and leaning on her palm to look at him. Her beautiful features did nothing to hide her vindictive nature from him.

  “Ambrose Di, the M Rank who recently joined the academy,” he said, feeling stiff under her scrutiny.

  “A commoner?” Laecia asked.

  “She is, but she is certainly formidable, sister,” Nayeli said, trying to stick up for Olferig. He appreciated Nayeli, even if he was certain nothing she could say would ease Laecia’s scrutiny.

  “And what excuse could be so profound as to permit a commoner from rejecting a noble summons, I wonder?” Laecia wondered aloud, her eyes searching the table.

  Margaux looked as though she had some choice words to say in reply, but the Heiress shook her head. “Please, Margaux. This is between them. Not us.”

  “No, no, Heiress Beatrix,” Laecia said, turning her attention to the Heiress. “Does your servant have an opinion she would like to share with the room?”

  “She is not my servant,” the Heiress corrected immediately. “She has chosen to guard and accompany me. As an M Rank, she has the right of choice.”

  “By what right may she choose? You are an Empress to be. Your word is as good as law,” Laecia insisted with a sinister chuckle.

  “By right of might,” the Heiress said, her tone both pleasant and cold.

  “Then by right of might, let’s hear what she has to say,” the princess giggled, her tone devious and mocking.

  “Ambrose may choose to reject a noble invitation because she’s an M rank,” Margaux said, “You four may be lucky enough to be S or whatever, but she is a true diamond. She may not be at her prime now, but she’ll surprise you if you press her. She surprised me.”

  Laecia guffawed at that, leaning back and holding her midsection, her laughter making her chest bounce. “Hahaa~ Ridiculous. No commoner, regardless of rank, has such a right. This upstart hasn’t even reached the first evolution of her class. She has no power and no pull. You may have status in the empire Ms. Guard Dog, but here, royalty rules. This Ambrose has no right of might with which to resist me.”

  Margaux and the Heiress both scowled at Laecia, who continued to laugh until Brandr cleared his throat. “Sister. This is a festive gathering, and one to celebrate the survival of the royal family and to welcome its guests. Not to make them feel uncomfortable,” he said simply. His words were calm, and easy, yet Laecia shut up immediately, looking chastised.

  Turning to the livid women at the end of the table, Brandr put on a calm, charming smile. “You have my apologies, ladies. My sister is known and needed for her brutally frank words in council. Sometimes she brings those skills to places where they will not serve her best. I would appreciate your forgiveness in this.”

  Both women nodded, seemingly placated, and Olferig balked inwardly. How in the frigid hells did his brother have such a way with words and women? Had he tried to calm them in the same fashion, they would have scowled at him, and his sister would have gone right on laughing and antagonizing their guests. Yet Brandr spoke and somehow peace returned with a vengeance to his table.

  “If I may,” Lyssandrea said, speaking up and requesting to be heard. Olferig nodded to her, permitting her to speak. “She may not have right of might, but Ambrose is mighty. I trained her all of yesterday. Her stamina outranks my own. Her versatility and capability with weapons is frightening for someone with so little experience, and I am fairly certain that she will have tested out of beginner combat classes today on her merit alone. She is formidable even at this low level.”

  Brandr frowned with trepidation at that information, while Margaux and Beatrix nodded in approval. Even Nayeli spoke up.

  “I agree, sister. She and I dueled yesterday. She beat us handily. Won in a confrontation I was certain she would have no chance in. I’m level fourteen and yesterday was her first day here. I’m no slouch.”

  Those words broke Laecia’s silence. She rolled her eyes and then scowled at Nayeli. “You are weak, Nayeli. Level fourteen is not an evolved class. You don’t even have all of the core skills to that puppeteer class of yours. You losing means nothing. If you all think she deserves this Right of Might so much, I’d like to see her tested against real noble might. Not a child.”

  Nayeli turned crimson in the face at her testimony being thrown out with such prejudice. The shame on his little sister’s face made Oferig angry, his chest swelling as he prepared to rebuke his older sister.

  “Since you’re so eager to dismiss her right of might, why don’t you be the one to test her?” Margaux challenged.

  The words floated easily over the table, and a glare settled on Laecia’s face.”What was that?” she asked, turning her head to glare directly at Margaux.

  “I said, since you are the only one here who would deny her right of might, why don’t you be the one to test it?” Margaux said, unflinching. She seemed ready and eager to fight should Laecia start an altercation. It looked like she would, too, as the woman seemed to draw in the shadows toward her.

  All that tension broke and Brandr roared with laughter, his hand pounding down on the table with his mirth and making every dish on the table bounce with the force of the impact. Everyone at the table looked at him as he threw back his head and roared with jubilation. For a long moment no one knew what to do, then his laughter died down. “Ha! What an idea! What a fantastic idea!”

  “Brother, what in the world are you-” Laecia began, looking frustrated.

  “Yes! A test of her strength would be good! Laecia is rarely challenged any more,” Brandr chuckled. “How fun, little sister. You should challenge this upstart!”

  Olferig paused at the suggestion. It was… frankly horrible. If Ambrose didn’t like them already, attacking her to prove that she should obey their commands was a surefire way to ensure she hated them all. If he hadn’t seen his sister provoking this outcome, he would likely have blamed the Heiress for setting them up and making a fool of him so Ambrose would be more likely to leave the academy with her.

  “Brother, you can’t be serious!” Laecia said, looking across the table at Brandr, who shook his head and shrugged.

  “I am. You want to order this spirited commoner around so badly? Go prove to her that you’re stronger and she should serve your will. Otherwise, I think it’s fine to claim right of might. Ha none of you would dare challenge my right to the throne,” he grinned, the threat in the room skyrocketing as his grin turned from charming to fiendish. Olferig reflexively reached for his shield, even though it was nowhere near him. His need for something to defend himself drove his instinct as his brother showed his real self for a second. Nayeli squeaked and tried to defend herself with her arm. Even Laecia flinched. Then the kind Crown Prince returned and the moment of fear passed.

  “B-brother…” Laecia said, looking into the man’s eyes and finding no sympathy. “I… think you make a fine point. This upstart will learn her place. She should be obeying our little brother, not challenging our poor younger sister.”

  Olferig would have spat out his wine if he’d had any at that moment. The bold about-face his sister had just done was… shocking to say the least. He would never have expected to see that woman pressured into backing up her bold claims. Especially not by Brandr. What had she done to piss him off enough for him to pressure her like this.

  Margaux laughed from the other end of the table, but her mirth was nowhere near as distracting as Brandr’s had been. “Oh I hope to witness this,” she said with a purr.

  As the dishes began to enter the room, servants bringing wine and spirits along with the dishes, Olferig began to wonder where he’d gone so wrong for the fates to curse him so.