Mira woke up the next morning with a single thought:
I'm too tired for royalty.
Her alarm, an Aristella-issued device that probably cost more than her mother's car, blared a gentle classical tune. Mira slapped it so hard it almost filed a complaint.
8:00 AM.
The reconciliation session.
Mandatory.
With him.
She dragged herself out of the ridiculously soft bed, brushed her hair into a ponytail, and stared at her reflection.
"Try not to punch him," she told the mirror.
The mirror, wisely, did not respond.
She left her dorm and followed the directions Leo texted her.
Leo:
Room 12B. Please don't fight the prince.
But if you do, record it.
She ignored him.
The halls were quiet at this hour, too quiet. Aristella felt like a palace before the servants woke up, all polished surfaces and whispered secrets.
Mira pushed open the door to Room 12B and stopped.
Because the scene inside looked like a hostage negotiation setup.
A long table.
Two chairs.
A mediator with glasses too round to be taken seriously.
Two royal bodyguards standing behind Adrian like he was about to be assassinated by… well… her.
And then, of course, Prince Adrian himself.
Perfect posture.
Perfect hair.
Perfect annoyed expression.
He didn't stand when she entered.
He didn't nod.
He didn't blink.
He simply looked at her like she was a complicated math problem he did not sign up to solve.
Mira walked to her seat and sat down without a word.
The mediator beamed. "Good morning! Let's all start with a breath."
"No," Mira said immediately.
Adrian exhaled sharply. "Just… let her skip that part."
The mediator clapped her hands like an overexcited fairy. "Wonderful! We're already communicating."
"We aren't," both Mira and Adrian said.
At the same time.
They froze.
The bodyguards exchanged a look that clearly said: We're going to die today.
The mediator adjusted her glasses. "Prince Adrian, why don't you begin by expressing how you felt during yesterday's cafeteria incident?"
Adrian's jaw tightened. "It was disrespectful."
Mira leaned back. "I was shoved."
"You raised your voice."
"You raised your whole royal aura! Not my fault you come with built-in intimidation."
The mediator scribbled something like: Paired communication patterns emerging.
Adrian continued, "I expected an apology."
"I apologized," Mira snapped. "I just didn't kneel and build a shrine to your sleeve."
One of the bodyguards coughed violently to hide a laugh.
Adrian glared at him.
The mediator said, "Mira, now explain how you felt."
Mira placed her elbows on the table. "I felt attacked. And judged. And honestly? Annoyed."
"By me?" Adrian asked.
"No," Mira said with a straight face. "By the chandelier behind you. Yes, by you!"
The mediator scribbled more aggressively.
Adrian inhaled. "You embarrassed me."
"You intimidated me."
"You challenged me."
"You provoked me."
"You threatened to spill another coffee."
"Yes," Mira said proudly. "Because you deserved it."
Adrian stared at her like she had grown a second head. "You are impossible."
"And you're dramatic."
The mediator nearly fainted with excitement. "This is GREAT progress!"
Both of them turned to glare at her.
She squeaked and pretended to take notes.
"Let's do a trust exercise," the mediator said. "Prince Adrian, please hold out your hand."
Mira blinked. "Why?"
Adrian held out his hand anyway, expression unreadable.
"Mira," the mediator said, "please place your hand on his."
"No."
"Miss Lawson…"
"No."
"Just do it," Adrian muttered. "It's a simple exercise."
Mira crossed her arms. "Your Highness, if I hold your hand, the internet will turn it into a conspiracy theory."
"She's right," one guard whispered.
Adrian shot him another glare.
The mediator clapped again. "Then we'll skip the hand-holding!"
"Thank God," Mira muttered.
Adrian rubbed his temple. He looked like someone who had been forced to babysit a wild animal.
The mediator tried again. "Let's try verbal affirmations! Prince Adrian, please say one positive thing about Mira."
Both bodyguards straightened like they were afraid lightning was about to hit the room.
Adrian stared at Mira for a long, painful moment.
Her chin lifted in challenge.
He sighed.
"She…"
He paused.
"She is… unusual."
Mira blinked. "That's not positive."
"It's better than what I wanted to say."
"Try again."
Adrian clenched his jaw. "…She is strong-willed."
Mira froze.
Her heart did a tiny, unexpected stutter.
She quickly slapped it back into place.
"Fine," the mediator said. "Mira, your turn. Say one positive thing about the prince."
Mira looked at Adrian.
He looked back.
Annoying.
Stubborn.
Prissy.
Arrogant.
Royally infuriating.
But his uniform was neat.
And he did clean up nicely.
And he had defended the academy's rules with annoying discipline.
And… he wasn't entirely spineless.
She sighed.
"He… stands straight," Mira said grudgingly.
Adrian blinked. "That's all?"
Mira shrugged. "Your posture is excellent. Congratulations."
One bodyguard turned around because he was about to explode laughing.
The mediator clapped again. "Wonderful breakthroughs! This session is, "
BANG.
The door flung open.
Leo Drake charged in like an uninvited golden retriever.
"Mira!" he yelled. "Did they arrest you? Are you alive? Blink twice if you need backup!"
Mira pinched the bridge of her nose. "Leo, what are you doing here?"
"I came to rescue you!"
"No one needs rescuing," Adrian said coldly.
Leo grinned. "Oh! There you are, Royal Raincloud."
Adrian looked ready to declare war.
The mediator fainted internally.
Mira stood up. "We're done here."
The mediator squeaked, "But, "
"Nope," Mira said. "If this is reconciliation, I'm reconciled. And tired."
She walked toward the door.
Adrian called behind her, "This is not finished."
Mira didn't turn.
"I know," she said. "You're too dramatic to let it go."
Leo high-fived her as they left the room.
Behind them, Adrian stared at the door she exited through.
His expression unreadable.
His jaw tight.
And something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes.
Interest.
Annoyance.
Curiosity.
Something dangerous.
Something royal.