CHAPTER 55: ARE THOSE MY SLAVES? I MEAN... DORMMATES!! [2]

After what felt like an eternity, Freya finally cooled off and stormed off to dinner.

That left me standing outside like some stray cat, while everyone else was inside enjoying warm food. Even Nyx — that little furball — had betrayed me for a plate of meat.

To be fair, I hadn’t even met my dormmates until now. Yesterday, I got here earlier than them. This morning, I left before anyone woke up. But judging from what I’d seen, I was stuck in the same dorm as a few of the main cast.

There was Freya, obviously. Then, the ice sculpture herself, Serena.

Redmane was here too, the loud-mouth, walking disaster of a man.

And at last, there was Nathan. A side character and Louie’s friend.

And... let’s just say, if you lost him in a crowd, you could probably follow the smell of roasted meat to find him.

"Oh well," I muttered, heading back inside.

I stepped into the dining hall like I owned the place. Which, technically, I didn’t, but walking in like you belong is half the battle in life.

The smell hit me first. Roasted meat. Fresh bread. Some kind of baked cheese thing that could probably start a small war if rationed unfairly.

My stomach gave a low growl that felt like it came from another dimension.

Freya was the first to notice me.

Correction, I meant target me.

She sat halfway down the long table, arms crossed so tight I was amazed her bones didn’t crack. Her glare locked onto me the way a hawk locks onto a rabbit, except hawks don’t usually look like they’re calculating creative torture methods.

Redmane spotted me next and nearly fell backward in his chair laughing.

The man’s laugh wasn’t subtle either — loud, shameless, and echoing around the hall like he was paid by the decibel. "That was a great show, thank you for it, Loki."

I didn’t respond. Not because I didn’t have a comeback — I had three ready — but because my priority list currently read:

1) Eat.

2) Maybe survive.

Serena was seated across from Freya, posture so perfect she could have been carved out of marble.

Her face didn’t move. Not when Redmane laughed, not when Freya glared, not even when Nathan, the human demolition crew, inhaled half the breadbasket.

Speaking of Nathan.

He was at the far end of the table, hunched over his plate like a starving wolf guarding a kill. I counted his empty dishes. One... two... three... four... five.

Five plates. All stacked in a leaning tower of gluttony, and the man was still eating like he’d just discovered food for the first time. His fork moved with mechanical precision — stab, scoop, devour, repeat.

I wasn’t sure if I was impressed or deeply concerned.

I slid into the seat next to Serena, reached for a plate, and began stacking it high.

Freya’s eyes followed my every movement like she was just waiting for me to drop something so she could pounce. Redmane chuckled again, shaking his head like a proud older brother watching me dig my own grave.

Serena, without looking up, quietly kept eating her food. It was as if I didn’t exist for her.

Across the table, Nathan had moved on to something that looked like an entire roasted bird. I don’t know where he was putting it. His stomach wasn’t bulging. He wasn’t slowing down. If anything, he was speeding up.

I took a bite of roasted meat, chewing slowly while keeping one eye on Nathan.

Not because I thought he’d steal my plate.

Okay, partly because of that — but because I genuinely wanted to see if he’d stop before the table physically ran out of food.

If he didn’t, I was making a first grab for dessert. Survival instincts, you know?

Yep. First day in the dorms, and I was already learning valuable lessons:

-Freya will murder me one day.

-Redmane will laugh while it happens.

-Serena will watch without blinking.

-And Nathan? Nathan will probably be eating through the whole thing.

***

After eating dinner, Freya pushed the door open and stepped into her room, the dim moonlight spilling in through the curtains. The day’s chaos still clung to her like an unpleasant smell.

She had come to Imperial Academy expecting... well, not this.

She expected a quiet dorm. A peaceful start to the year. Maybe a little academic rivalry at most.

Instead, the universe decided to hand her him.

The so-called "North Star of the Academy." The boy everyone whispered about like he was some pervert. She didn’t care to know about him before. But now she’d never forget him.

Because that face had been far too close to hers when he bumped straight into her chest.

Freya clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached because of it.

That humiliating moment replayed in her mind on loop, like some cursed theatre reel she couldn’t stop. And the worst part? The smugness. The unbothered, oh-it’s-just-another-Tuesday look on his face afterwards.

If he thought he could just walk away from that, he was going to regret it.

She dropped onto her bed, eyes narrowing into slits as plans began stitching themselves together in her head.

Simple teasing wouldn’t cut it. No, he needed to be made miserable. The kind of misery that clings to you, day after day, until you’re counting the seconds until graduation just to be free.

Maybe she’d make him the Academy’s laughingstock. Ruin his whatever reputation he had before the term even properly began.

Freya lay back against her pillow, a thin smile curling her lips as the gears kept turning. She didn’t care how long it took—days, weeks, months. She had the patience.

And she would get her revenge.

With that thought in mind, she blew out the lamp, letting the room sink into shadow. But even in the dark, her eyes stayed open a while longer, burning with the same thought over and over:

’You’re going to wish you’d never met me, Moe Lester.’