CHAPTER 135: THE WINTER TRIALS 10

Aegis lay sprawled across her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her muscles still ached from the fight with Kanna, and she could feel bruises forming along her ribs where she’d blocked that one devastating strike that had nearly cracked her in half.

Worth it though.

Lune sat at her desk, brush moving across a fresh canvas in slow, magical strokes. The room smelled faintly of paint and something floral—probably whatever expensive soap Lune used.

"Are you nervous?" Lune asked without looking up.

Aegis turned her head.

"About what?"

"The semifinals. You’re fighting soon."

"Oh. That." Aegis sat up, rolling her shoulders until something popped. "Yeah, kinda. But I’ve been nervous since this whole thing started. At this point I’m just riding the waaaave, brah."

Lune raised a brow.

"That’s surprisingly philosophical."

"Some would say I, like an onion, have layers."

Aegis stood and walked over to the window, her bare feet padding across the cold floor. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that looked almost too pretty to be real. Students milled about below, probably heading to dinner or placing last-minute bets on the tournament.

[Two hours until the semifinals. Two hours until I fight either Serilla, Darius, or Talia.]

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

Aegis exchanged a glance with Lune, who shrugged and kept painting.

Aegis opened the door.

Serilla leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking smug. Her pink hair was still slightly damp, like she’d just come from a bath. She wore a simple black shirt and pants—no armor, no tournament gear. Just casual clothes that somehow made her look even more dangerous.

"Congrats on making it this far, Starcaller."

Aegis raised a brow.

"You too, Frost."

Serilla’s lips curved into a smirk.

"Mind if I come in?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

Serilla walked in without waiting for an answer, her hips swaying with each step. Her eyes scanned the room like she was cataloging everything—the messy bed, the scattered clothes, the faint smell of training sweat. They lingered on Lune for a moment before settling back on Aegis.

"I didn’t notice how cozy this place was last I saw it."

"It does the job." Aegis closed the door. "What do you want, Serilla?"

"Can’t I just drop by to wish my favorite rival good luck?"

"You could. But you won’t."

Serilla laughed, low and genuine.

"You know me too well."

She stepped closer, close enough that Aegis could smell her perfume—something sharp and floral that made Aegis’s cock twitch traitorously in her pants.

[Down, girl. Not the time.]

"You know," Serilla said, her voice dropping lower, "I’ve been thinking about our little arrangement."

Aegis crossed her arms, trying to look unaffected.

"What arrangement?"

"The one where you refuse to acknowledge you want me."

Aegis snorted.

"Pretty sure I’m the one who made you scream my name at the masquerade, babe."

"And I’m pretty sure you’ve been thinking about doing that again ever since."

"Maybe." Aegis leaned against the desk, forcing herself to stay casual. "Or maybe I’ve been too busy preparing to kick your ass in the tournament."

"Big talk for someone who barely beat Greaves."

"Big talk for someone who’s about to lose to Goldspire."

Serilla’s smirk widened, sharp as a knife.

"We’ll see."

They stared at each other. The air between them crackled with tension thick enough to choke on.

Serilla took another step forward. Aegis didn’t back down. Couldn’t back down, really—her ass was already pressed against the desk.

"You know what I think?" Serilla murmured, tilting her head. "I think you like me more than you want to admit."

"And I think you’re projecting."

Serilla’s hand reached out, fingers brushing against Aegis’s jaw with feather-light touches that made Aegis’s skin prickle.

Aegis’s breath caught.

They were inches apart now. Close enough that Aegis could see the flecks of gold in Serilla’s blue eyes, could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

Serilla leaned in, her lips parting slightly.

"Can you two have sex someplace else, please?"

Lune’s voice cut through the moment like a bucket of ice water.

Serilla froze. Then she burst out laughing, pulling back and covering her mouth with one hand while her shoulders shook.

Aegis turned to find Lune still painting, her expression perfectly neutral, brush moving in steady strokes like nothing had happened.

"I’m trying to work," Lune continued in that same flat tone, "and you’re both very distracting."

Serilla wiped her eyes, still laughing.

"Your roomate’s fun, I see."

Aegis groaned, running a hand through her hair.

"Lune, you’re a killjoy."

Lune shrugged.

Serilla walked toward the door, pausing with her hand on the handle to glance back at Aegis. Her expression had softened slightly, the sharp edges gone.

"Good luck later, Starcaller."

"You too."

Serilla winked and left, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Aegis stood there for a moment, her heart still racing, her cock still half-hard.

[Fuck. She does that on purpose, doesn’t she?]

Lune set down her brush.

"Are you going to stand there all evening, or are you going to get ready?"

Aegis blinked.

"Right. Yeah. Getting ready."

She grabbed her daggers from where they rested on the nightstand and started checking the edges, running her thumb carefully along the blades. Anything to keep her hands busy and her mind off pink hair and blue eyes.

[Focus. You’ve got a tournament to win. You can deal with your weird hate-fuck thing with Serilla later.]

---

Two hours later, Aegis sat in the stands alongside Scarlett, Sophie, and Lune. The arena was packed, bodies pressed together, the energy so electric she could practically taste it.

Valdris stepped onto the platform, her silver hair gleaming in the torchlight.

"Welcome to the semifinals of the Winter Trials Combat Tournament!"

The crowd roared, a wave of sound that crashed over everything.

"First match! Darius Goldspire versus Serilla Frost!"

[Oh, damn.]

Serilla walked onto the platform, her usual smirk firmly in place. She’d changed into her tournament gear—light armor that hugged her body, her blade strapped to her hip. Darius followed, his expression calm and focused, every step measured and deliberate.

They faced each other across the marble.

Valdris raised her hand.

"Begin!"

Serilla moved first, closing the distance in a blur of pink and steel. Her blade flashed as she attacked, striking high at Darius’s head, then immediately transitioning low toward his legs in rapid succession.

Darius blocked each strike, his movements precise and economical. No wasted energy.

Serilla pressed the attack, her footwork flawless. She danced around him like water, flowing from one angle to another, landing light cuts on his arm and shoulder that forced him to stay defensive.

But Darius didn’t panic. He adjusted his stance, his sword moving in tight, controlled arcs that kept her at bay.

The crowd was screaming, but Aegis barely heard them. Her eyes were locked on the fight.

[Serilla’s faster. But Darius is patient. He’s waiting for her to make a mistake.]

Serilla feinted left with her shoulder, then lunged right with her blade aimed at Darius’s ribs.

Darius anticipated it, sidestepping with perfect timing and countering with a horizontal slash that whistled through the air.

Serilla ducked, rolling to the side and coming up behind him in one fluid motion.

She struck at his back, blade aimed between his shoulder blades.

Darius spun faster than someone his size should be able to move, blocking the attack and pushing her away with his free hand.

They circled each other, both breathing hard now. Sweat gleamed on Serilla’s forehead.

Serilla attacked again, faster this time. Her blade blurred as she unleashed a flurry of strikes—eight, nine, ten in rapid succession.

Darius blocked, parried, deflected. But he was being pushed back, his boots scraping across the marble.

Serilla grinned, her teeth bared.

"Getting tired, Goldspire?"

"Not yet."

Serilla lunged, putting everything into one final strike aimed at his chest.

Darius sidestepped at the last possible second and grabbed her wrist mid-strike.

Serilla’s eyes widened, genuine shock flashing across her face.

He twisted, his grip iron-strong, forcing her to drop her sword. It clattered to the marble with a sound like a death knell.

Before she could react, Darius swept her legs with a vicious kick and knocked her flat on her back.

His blade pressed against her throat before she even finished falling.

Silence.

Complete, absolute silence.

Serilla stared up at him, her chest heaving, pink hair spread across the white marble like spilled paint.

Then she laughed, bitter and hollow.

"I yield."

The crowd erupted into cheers and shocked murmurs.

Darius stepped back and offered his hand.

Serilla stared at it for a long moment, something complicated passing across her face. Then she took it.

He pulled her to her feet with ease.

"Good fight."

Serilla didn’t respond. She grabbed her sword, sheathed it with shaking hands, and walked off the platform without looking at anyone. Her shoulders were stiff, her jaw clenched.

As she passed the stands, her eyes flicked toward Aegis.

For a split second, Aegis saw something in her expression. Not anger. Not frustration.

Shame.

Raw, naked shame.

Then Serilla was gone, disappearing into the crowd like a ghost.

Aegis exhaled slowly, something twisting in her chest.

[She’s going to beat herself up over that loss for weeks. Fuck.]

Scarlett nudged her with an elbow.

"That was intense."

"Yeah."

"You think you can beat Darius?"

"I’ll have to."

Sophie hugged Aegis’s arm, squeezing tight.

"You’ll do great, big sis! I know you will!"

"Thanks, Sophie."

Valdris stepped onto the platform again, her voice ringing out.

"Next match! I’ll let the bracket board have the honor this time."

The bracket board flickered, magical letters rearranging themselves.

Aegis’s name appeared in glowing gold.

Beside it: Talia Stone.

Aegis’s stomach dropped like a stone into dark water.

[Oh. Oh fuck.]

Scarlett’s jaw fell open.

"You’re fighting Talia?"

"Apparently."

Lune glanced up from her sketchbook, one eyebrow raised.

"This will be interesting."

Aegis stood on legs that felt like jelly, her hands suddenly clammy.

She glanced toward the edge of the arena and spotted Talia standing near the platform, arms crossed, black hair tied back. Her yellow eyes were already locked on Aegis.

Their eyes met.

Talia’s expression was unreadable. Cold. Focused.

No trace of the girl who’d been in Aegis’s bed just last night.

[Hehe.]

Valdris’s voice rang out, loud enough to shake the arena.

"Aegis Starcaller versus Talia Stone! Combatants, to the platform!"

The crowd erupted, louder than they’d been all night.

Aegis started walking, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest. Each step felt heavier than the last.

[... Well, let’s see how this goes.]