Chapter 49: Is this what dying feels like?
Nora’s composure was impeccable, the kind of regal calm that screamed I’m better than you and I know it. Which, of course, meant I had no choice but to ruin it.
"So, Your Majesty," I said with mock seriousness, leaning back in my chair, "how’s the empire doing these days? Still taxing people for breathing too loud?"
Her head turned slightly, and she gave me a slow, unimpressed look. "Still talking like you’re funny, I see."
"Ouch," I said, clutching my chest. "Didn’t realize comedy was punishable by royal decree."
"I’ll make an exception," she replied coolly. "For you."
’You two have the chemistry of a knife and butter,’ Bastard said.
’What does that even mean?’ I thought.
{You’re the butter. She’s the knife. And you’re about to get spread.}
Nora arched an eyebrow. "Are you done mumbling to yourself or do you need a moment?"
"I was just thinking about how humble you are," I said, deadpan. "Truly, an inspiration to arrogant people everywhere."
She crossed one leg over the other, expression unreadable. "Someone has to be the standard."
Sacha, perched in my lap, flicked her tail. ’Papa, the shiny lady sounds mean.’
’That’s because she is, sweetheart.’
Nora’s gaze slid toward Sacha. "Your pet is staring at me."
"My daughter, actually," I corrected, proudly scratching under Sacha’s chin. "She gets her attitude from me."
"Tragic," Nora said without missing a beat. "I was hoping she’d outgrow it."
"Papa, what’s tragic?"
"Means adorable, sweetheart."
"Yay! Sacha’s tragic!"
Nora’s lips twitched; she tried to fight it, but a laugh slipped out. Quick, sharp, and immediately smothered behind her hand.
I grinned wide. "Did you just laugh? I think you laughed. Ladies and gentlemen, the Ice Princess has feelings!"
She composed herself instantly. "I did not."
"You totally did."
"Sebastian," she said sweetly, "I can still have you executed for slander."
I smiled. "That’s fair. But I’d die knowing I made you laugh."
"Unlikely," she murmured, turning away.
{I’m giving you ten minutes before she stabs you,} Bastard said.
’Ten minutes? Please, I’m charming,’ I thought.
{Nine minutes.}
Sacha snorted. ’Papa’s bad at flirting.’
’You wound me, both of you.’
Before Nora could fire back another insult, the massive doors at the front of the auditorium opened.
An old man with gray robes shuffled in, the Principal. The kind of man who looked like he’d seen too many students and not enough joy. He walked to the podium, cleared his throat, and began the world’s longest nap disguised as a speech.
"Welcome... to the Aetherium Academy’s entrance examination..."
I groaned quietly.
{Gods above, his voice could raise the dead, just to make them beg for silence.}
’This is torture,’ I muttered.
’Papa, is this what dying feels like?’ Sacha asked.
’Worse,’ I replied.
After what felt like an eternity, the Principal finally said, "...and now, the Vice Principal will explain the rules of the exam."
The heavy doors opened again.
A familiar, calm pressure swept through the hall.
I didn’t even need to look.
Belle.
Her steps echoed softly as she walked to the front — blindfolded, clad in a tailored black uniform with gold trim, her every movement sharp and certain. The room seemed to hold its breath as she took the stage.
Sacha’s ears perked up. "Mama!"
Nora blinked. "Mama?"
I grinned. "Don’t ask."
{Oh, this is going to be entertaining,} Bastard said. {You think she’s gonna call you out in front of everyone?}
’If I’m lucky,’ I replied. ’Public humiliation builds character.’
{You’re already a character. What you need is a survival instinct.}
I smirked, watching Belle turn toward the crowd. "Guess the fun’s about to start."
Belle stepped up to the podium with a quiet grace that made even the restless students fall silent. Her blindfold was immaculate, her posture perfect, her voice smooth and detached, like an executioner announcing a schedule.
"Welcome, applicants," she began, her tone flat but carrying effortlessly through the massive auditorium.
"The entrance examination will begin shortly. You will all be teleported to an uninhabited island, one that is home to a variety of monsters ranging from F-rank to, in very unfortunate cases, C-rank."
The crowd stirred at that, murmurs spreading like static. Belle didn’t pause.
"Each monster you defeat will grant points. F-rank monsters are worth five points, E-rank twenty-five, D-rank one hundred." She tilted her head slightly. "And if any of you happen to find the C-rank creature... It’s worth a thousand points."
She let the number hang for a second before adding, "Of course, I doubt anyone here is foolish enough to actually try fighting it."
’She’s looking right at me,’ I thought.
{She absolutely is,} Bastard said. {You must have really pissed her off.}
’That’s impossible. I’m delightful.’
{You’re alive. That’s enough.}
Belle continued, voice as level as ever. "Your objective is simple. Accumulate as many points as you can within the time limit. Survival is, ideally, recommended."
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the hall. Belle didn’t even blink.
"Do not," she said, her tone dropping ever so slightly, "wander into areas you can’t handle. Do not provoke something that clearly outclasses you. And, above all..."
She paused. Her blindfolded gaze seemed to drift, settling right where I was sitting.
"...do not accidentally talk shit
to something that can kill you."The hall went dead quiet.
My jaw clenched.
Nora turned toward me slowly, her blue eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Did you... really do that?" she asked in a tone that somehow managed to sound both polite and judgmental.
I coughed. "Define really."
"So you did," she countered sweetly.
’Papa, did you anger a monster?’ Sacha whispered in my mind.
’A little one,’ I thought.
{You provoked a beast that almost crushed your ribs,} Bastard said. {’A little one’ isn’t the phrase I’d use.}
Belle’s speech rolled on, precise and unbothered. "Points will be tallied automatically. Those who fail to reach the passing threshold will be disqualified. Those who die will be... ineligible for enrollment."
A faint murmur of tension ran through the students again.
Nora, meanwhile, was completely unfazed. Her expression had shifted from boredom to awe. "She’s incredible," she whispered, almost starry-eyed. "That calm tone, that presence... she’s like a blade wrapped in silk."
I raised a brow. "You’re fangirling."
"I’m admiring," she said primly. "There’s a difference."
’Papa, I like Mama’s voice,’ Sacha said. ’She sounds like she could command an army.’
’That’s because she could,’ I replied.
{And she’d send them to kill you first.}
’You’re enjoying this too much.’
{Immensely.}
Belle finished her briefing with a faint tilt of her head. "When the countdown begins, remain calm. The teleportation will commence automatically. Do not resist the process unless you enjoy molecular disintegration."
A few students paled.
She gave a curt nod, stepping back from the podium as if she hadn’t just implied mass death in the most casual way possible.
Applause followed, hesitant at first, then swelling into polite enthusiasm.
I leaned back and muttered, "She really has a gift for making people applaud their own doom."
Nora smirked. "You sound jealous."
"I’m not jealous," I said. "I’m just terrified."
{You should be,} Bastard said. {If she’s taking jabs like that in public, wait till she sees you in private.}
’Yeah,’ I thought, watching Belle descend the stage with that same serene grace. ’I can’t wait.’