Your starting school in two days

The bow of fire fizzled out in my hands as exhaustion overtook me, the last flickers of magic dispersing into the air.

My breaths came in ragged gasps, and my legs wobbled under my weight. I planted my hands on my knees, trying to steady myself, though it felt like even the effort of standing upright was too much. 

Elira, on the other hand, barely seemed fazed. She stood a few paces away, her posture relaxed despite the scorch marks on her clothes and the faint trickle of blood on her shoulder where my arrow had hit.

Her smirk was firmly in place, though there was a gleam of something else in her eyes approval? Satisfaction? 

"Well," she said, breaking the silence. "You're finally learning to push your limits. I'm impressed, Ren." 

I couldn't help but glare at her, though it lacked any real heat. "Glad... you're... entertained," I managed between gasps. 

Elira chuckled, stepping closer. "Oh, I'm more than entertained. That was a solid fight. You've come a long way since you first showed up here all spark and no substance." 

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, straightening up with a groan. Every muscle in my body ached, and my magic reserves felt completely drained. "So glad I could amuse you." 

She gave me a light slap on the back, which almost sent me toppling over. "You should be proud. Valeria's training clearly did you some good, even if it turned you into a slightly unhinged pyromaniac." 

I glared at her again, but it quickly melted into a small, tired smile. As much as I hated to admit it, hearing her say I'd improved meant something. Elira didn't hand out compliments lightly or at all, really. 

"You know," she continued, crossing her arms, "if you keep this up, you might actually be a challenge for me someday." 

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, sure. Maybe in, like, fifty years." 

She laughed at that, the sound light and genuine. "Don't sell yourself short. You've got potential, kid. More than I expected, honestly." 

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just nodded, still catching my breath. 

"Alright," Elira said after a moment, stretching her arms over her head. "That's enough for today. You're at your limit, and I don't feel like carrying your unconscious body back to the house." 

"Good," I said, the relief clear in my voice. "Because I was about two seconds away from collapsing." 

She smirked again but didn't push me further. Instead, she turned and started walking back toward the house, her strides as confident as ever. I followed more slowly, each step a reminder of how utterly drained I was. 

When we reached the house, the smell of something delicious wafted through the air, and my stomach growled loudly.

Elira raised an eyebrow at me but didn't comment, which I appreciated. I trudged into the dining room, barely noticing the polished floors and elegant decor in my exhaustion. 

To my surprise, my mother was already there, sitting primly at the table with a cup of tea in hand. She looked up as we entered, her expression lighting up with a smile. 

"There you are," she said warmly. "I was wondering where you'd run off to." 

"Just... sparring," I said, dropping into a chair with a groan. 

Elira chuckled as she took a seat across from me. "Sparring is putting it lightly. Your daughter's been through the wringer, maa'm. She's tougher than she looks, though." 

My mother's smile grew, and I could see the pride in her eyes. "I'm glad to hear it. But don't push yourself too hard, Ren. You'll need your energy for what's coming next." 

I frowned, not liking the sound of that. "What's coming next?" 

She sipped her tea before replying, her tone casual but laced with that telltale hint of amusement that meant she was about to drop a bombshell. "Oh, nothing too strenuous. I don't know if your forgot but it's just your first day of magic school in two days." 

My heart sank. "What?" 

"And," she added, as if she hadn't just derailed my entire day, "your uniform arrived this afternoon. It's already been laid out in your room." 

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "You've got to be kidding me." 

Elira laughed, the sound loud and unrestrained. "Magic school, huh? I hope they're ready for you, kid." 

I peeked through my fingers to glare at her. "I'm not ready for them." 

"Don't worry," my mother said with a smile that was far too calm for my liking. "You'll do just fine." 

Somehow, her words didn't make me feel any better.

Walking toward my room, I felt a strange mixture of excitement and dread swirling in my chest. Magic school great.

That wasn't the part I was nervous about. Learning new skill, showing off the control I'd gained, maybe even making a few friends who didn't throw punches like Valeria or smirk like Elira that all sounded fine.

No, the real problem was her.

Princess Xyra Eldarion.

Even thinking her name made me cringe. I pressed my hands to my face, groaning as the memory of that banquet came flooding back like an unwelcome tidal wave.

Xyra the villainess of the game was everything I admired when I'd played the game in my past life: poised, powerful, intelligent, and fiercely loyal.

I'd been obsessed with her, saving every interaction, replaying her routes, imagining the perfect partnership she could have with the protagonist even if she was the villainess and it was impossible to get her as a lover.

But now?

I was the idiot who humiliated her in front of half the nobility.

"Why did I think that was a good idea?" I muttered under my breath, dragging my feet as I climbed the stairs. "Who in their right mind would not bow to the future queen in public?"

I shook my head, the embarrassment searing hot on my face. And then, because my brain was a traitor, I remembered the last thing she'd said to me that night:

"Revenge is a dish best served cold, Ren. And I have the patience of the frost."