CHAPTER 93: DEBATE STRATEGY

{Liora}

Serilla’s mouth tasted like expensive wine.

Liora pressed harder into the kiss, fingers tangling in pink hair while her back hit the wall of the empty classroom they’d commandeered. Part of her brain—the rational part that sounded suspiciously like her mother—screamed that this was a terrible idea. That Serilla was playing games. That Talia would be furious... That Aegis would probably find this hilarious.

The rest of her brain had temporarily shut down because Serilla’s tongue was doing something that should require a permit.

[Gods, why does she have to be so good at this???]

"Mmm." Serilla pulled back just enough to speak, lips brushing against Liora’s with each word. "You’re thinking too much again."

"I’m always thinking too much."

"Such a burden. All those pesky thoughts about right and wrong and whether your girlfriend will set me on fire."

There was, of course, a very real possibility she would.

"She’s not—we’re not—"

"Please. You two eye-fuck across the dining hall every morning. It’s adorable. Don’t insult my intelligence."

Liora’s cheeks burned. She tried to step back but Serilla followed, pinning her more firmly against the wall with a thigh between her legs that made coherent thought significantly harder.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to."

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s the only answer that matters, isn’t it?" Serilla’s fingers traced along Liora’s jaw, tilting her chin up. "You overthink everything. Always trying to make everyone happy. Always compromising. When was the last time you just took what you wanted?"

"I take what I want."

"Really? Then why are you sharing yourself between a princess who can’t admit she loves you in public and a commoner who treats you like a fun distraction?"

The words stung more than Liora wanted to admit. She knew they weren’t true, or hoped they weren’t true, but it still stung to hear.

"That’s not—Talia has responsibilities. And Aegis..."

"Starcaller would fuck a statue if it complimented her tits."

Despite everything, Liora laughed. It came out breathless and a little hysterical.

"She’s not that bad."

"She’s exactly that bad. I’ve watched her. She collects people like trophies."

"And you don’t?"

That was the first thing Liora said that got an actual reaction out of Serilla. Her smile flickered in and out of existence for just a second before settling into a smirk.

"I don’t collect. I conquer. There’s a difference."

"I don’t see it."

"Collectors keep things on shelves to admire. Conquerors reshape the landscape." Her thumb traced Liora’s bottom lip. "I don’t just want to have you, songbird. I want to ruin you for everyone else."

"You can’t just—" Liora started, then lost her train of thought as Serilla’s mouth found her neck. "Can’t just declare war on my love life."

"War implies resistance. This is more of an invasion."

"Serilla—"

"Shh." Teeth grazed her pulse point. "Just let me have this. Five more minutes of pretending you want to run back to your complicated princess and your shameless commoner."

"Why can’t you just... join? Be with Talia too? You know how she felt about you back then."

Serilla pulled back completely this time, amused.

"Share? Me?" She laughed, genuine and delighted. "Oh, songbird. Where’s the fun in that?"

"It would be easier."

"Easy is boring."

"That’s cruel."

"That’s honest. Besides," Serilla stepped back, smoothing her skirt with deliberate casualness, "you like it. The attention. The drama. Being wanted so badly that people are willing to fight for you."

Liora wanted to deny it. Wanted to say she hated the complications and jealousy and constant emotional negotiations.

But Serilla was already walking away, leaving Liora against the wall with swollen lips and too many feelings.

"Midday recess," Serilla called over her shoulder. "Try not to think too hard about this. You’ll give yourself wrinkles."

The door clicked shut.

Liora slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, head in her hands.

[What am I doing?]

---

The courtyard was almost peaceful.

Almost, because Lune Solana was painting something that would probably get them both expelled if anyone saw it.

"Is that... is Aegis’s face supposed to be doing that?"

"It’s artistic interpretation." Lune didn’t look up from her canvas, pink eyes focused on getting the exact curve of what appeared to be Aegis mid-orgasm.

"It’s pornographic."

"Art can be both."

Liora sat on the bench beside her, carefully not looking at the painting. The afternoon sun was warm on her face. Students walked past in small groups, discussing classes and gossiping about the upcoming masquerade. Normal school things that didn’t involve emotional terrorism via lewd makeout sessions.

"You’re upset," Lune observed.

"I’m fine."

"Your breathing pattern suggests otherwise. Also you keep touching your lips."

Liora forced her hand back to her lap.

"Serilla?"

"How did you—"

"She left lip gloss on your neck."

Mortified, Liora scrubbed at her throat with her sleeve.

"I don’t know what to do."

"About?"

"Everything. Her. Talia. Aegis. This whole situation."

Lune added another stroke to her painting. Somehow it made the image even more obscene.

"Stand your ground."

"What?"

"You keep letting other people decide things for you. Talia decides when you can be together. Aegis decides when to acknowledge you’re more than casual. Serilla decides to pursue you regardless of your feelings." Lune tilted her head, examining her work. "What do you want?"

"I want everyone to be happy."

"That’s what you think you should want. What do you actually want?"

Liora stared at her hands. They were ink-stained from this morning’s theory homework. Normal hands. Not the hands of someone juggling three complicated relationships.

"I want to not have to choose."

"Then don’t."

"It’s not that simple."

"Why not?" Lune finally looked up. Her expression was as blank as always, but there was something knowing in her eyes. "Aegis has Sophie and Scarlett and you and Talia. Talia has you and Aegis. Why should you limit yourself?"

"Because that’s... that’s not how relationships work."

"According to whom?"

"Society?"

"And, by ’society’, you mean Serilla?"

Liora opened her mouth. Closed it.

"Besides," Lune continued, returning to her painting, "you’re already doing it. You’re just doing it with guilt instead of confidence."

"I’m not—"

"Tuesday you were in the library with Talia. Wednesday Aegis fingered you behind the greenhouse. Thursday was Serilla in the music room. This morning was Serilla again."

"How do you know all that!?"

"I pay attention." She added what looked like a drop of fluid to her canvas.

Liora paused a moment.

"Speaking of which, why all the Aegis paintings?"

Lune paused, brush hovering over the canvas.

"It’s fun."

"Fun?"

"She has interesting expressions. Very educational."

"Educational."

"For artistic purposes."

"Right." Liora looked at the painting again. It was definitely Aegis, face twisted in pleasure, hands gripping invisible sheets. "Very artistic."

"I’m glad you understand."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Liora asked the question that had been bothering her.

"Do you think I’m being selfish?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"But everyone is selfish. At least you’re honest about wanting multiple people. Most people just cheat and call it complicated."

"I’m not cheating. Everyone knows about everyone else."

"Then what’s the problem?"

[The problem is I don’t know how this ends without someone getting hurt.]

But maybe that was just life.

People got hurt. Hearts broke. Sometimes you kissed your ex in an empty classroom while your girlfriend was in political theory and your friend-with-benefits was probably doing something inadvisable with her sister.

"Thanks, Lune."

"For what?"

"Being weird in a helpful way."

"You’re welcome."

---

{Aegis}

Political Intrigue & Courtly Manners had the specific energy of a gladiator arena pretending to be a classroom.

Aegis stood at the podium, trying to ignore Serilla’s presence in the third row. The pink-haired menace had positioned herself perfectly—close enough to heckle but far enough that Professor Valemont wouldn’t immediately blame her for disruptions.

Across from her, Darius Goldspire looked like someone had dressed a wolf in expensive clothes and taught it to smile. His debate position was simple: commoners should be grateful for noble guidance. Aegis’s position was simpler: fuck that.

"The natural order," Darius was saying, "exists for a reason. Nobles are bred for leadership. Educated from birth. Trained in the complexities of governance that commoners simply cannot grasp."

"Interesting." Aegis leaned against her podium with calculated casualness. "So you’re saying nobles are naturally superior?"

"I’m saying centuries of selective breeding and education create advantages."

"Like what? The ability to look down your nose without getting neck strain?"

Scattered laughter from the commoners in class.

"The ability to see beyond immediate needs. To plan for generations rather than seasons."

"Right. Because commoners are too stupid to think about the future."

"I didn’t say stupid."

"You implied it pretty heavily."

"I implied that different backgrounds create different capabilities."

"Different. Not lesser."

"Did I say lesser?"

"You said commoners can’t grasp complexity. That sounds like you’re calling us simple."

From the audience, Serilla’s voice rang out sweet as poisoned honey:

"Aren’t you?"

Aegis didn’t miss a beat.

"Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my perfect entrance exam scores."

"Lucky guesses," Serilla countered.

"Three hundred lucky guesses? That’s not luck, that’s talent."

"Or cheating."

The room went quiet. Even Valemont looked up from her notes.

"Careful," Aegis said, voice dropping to something dangerous. "The last person who accused me of cheating publicly ended up frozen in a block of ice. Ask Varyn how that worked out for him."

"Is that a threat?"

"It’s a historical review. I’m very educational."

Darius cleared his throat, trying to regain control of his debate.

"Perhaps we could return to the actual topic?"

"Of course." Aegis turned back to him with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "You were explaining how generations of noble inbreeding—sorry, ’selective breeding’—makes you better at leadership. Please, continue. I’m fascinated by the mental gymnastics required to turn nepotism into natural law."

"That’s a crude oversimplification—"

"Is it? Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re saying being born rich makes you automatically qualified to make decisions for everyone else."

"Wealth provides resources. Education. Exposure to—"

"To other wealthy people who tell you you’re special because your great-great-grandfather fucked the right person."

Valemont coughed. It might have been a laugh.

"Miss Starcaller, perhaps less crude language?"

"My apologies, Professor. I meant to say your great-great-grandfather made advantageous reproductive choices."

"That’s not better."

"It’s more polite."

"It’s the same thing with bigger words."

"Welcome to noble politics."

This time the laughter included some nobles. Darius’s jaw clenched.

"You mock traditions that built this kingdom."

"I mock traditions that say I’m worth less because my parents are farmers."

"No one said you’re worth less."

"You literally just argued that I can’t understand complex governance because I wasn’t born in a mansion."

"That’s not—"

"What else would you call it?"

"Reality."

The word hung in the air like a challenge.

Aegis straightened up.

[Moment of truth.]

"Reality. You want to talk about reality? Reality is that this kingdom was founded by a commoner. Queen Rosanna. Maybe, just maybe, people should be judged by what they do rather than who their parents were."

"Ancient history—"

"Current events. I’m standing here, aren’t I? Top of the academic rankings. And before you say it’s a fluke, remember that maintaining those scores requires consistent performance. Every test. Every essay. Every practical demonstration." She met his eyes. "Still think I can’t grasp complexity?"

Darius smiled. It wasn’t a nice expression.

"One exception doesn’t disprove the rule."

"Neither does your assumption prove it."