The room was strange — Kev couldn't tell if it was a study or a living space. Tables cluttered the floor, shelves lined the walls, and chairs were scattered without order. It felt more like chaos than comfort.
Instructor Lira moved slowly, carrying a white cup to one of the five tables. The bitter scent of coffee filled the air as she raised it to her lips. She drank only a small sip before setting the cup down in front of her.
The silence pressed heavily between them. Kev's face was a poker mask, but inside he was unsettled, even scared. Something about this moment felt wrong, as if danger lingered just beyond the edges of the room.
Then Lira broke the silence, her voice sharp. "I kno"
But Kev, confused and restless, stepped in too quickly. His words spilled out, uneven, desperate to explain. "I didn't know what happened… I really don't. You were speaking gibberish, I couldn't understand. I don't know what's going on, I don't know what happened to you in your life—"
His voice overlapped hers, cutting through the moment.
Lira's eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. The interruption struck her like an insult.
Suddenly, she stood, her chair scraping against the floor. In one swift motion, she raised her hand and knocked him across the head.
The sound echoed in the room.
Kev staggered back, his jaw tightening, his face still a poker mask despite the sting. Inside, confusion and anger churned, but he forced himself to remain calm.
The silence returned, heavier than before.
"Could you at least let me talk!" Lira shouted, her voice sharp, cutting through the silence. Her eyes burned with frustration. "What is wrong with you?"
Kev froze, his poker face unbroken, though inside his thoughts churned.
Lira sighed heavily, her anger softening. She sat back down, her shoulders slumping. "Sorry… I shouldn't have shouted." Her tone shifted, quieter now. "I was pretty drunk last night. So were you."
Kev's crimson eyes narrowed, listening but saying nothing.
She continued, her words spilling out in fragments. "I don't know why, but as I was talking, it seemed like you were rushing your drinks. And then… later, you became more drunk than me. I couldn't just leave you in the banquet hall like that."
Her gaze dropped to the cup of coffee in front of her. She lifted it, took a small sip, then set it back down.
"So I took you to the female teachers' dorm," she said firmly. "I didn't want you passed out in front of everyone. On the way… the princess even came to talk to you. But you started saying gibberish again. Ahh… July came too. She saw."
Kev's jaw tightened at the mention of July.
Lira's voice grew softer, almost weary. "I dropped you on the bed. I was tired. So I slept on the floor."
The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down on Kev. He stood there, confused, his mind racing. The fragments of memory — the banquet, the drinks, the blur — all tangled together, leaving him with more questions than answers.
"Thanks," Kev said quietly, his voice steady but restrained.
Lira gave a faint smile, her tone softer now. "The pleasure is mine. After all… you're the only person that will listen to me."
Her words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning.
Kev's crimson eyes narrowed slightly as memory stirred. He remembered what she had once admitted — that she had no friends, no one to confide in. The realization pressed against him, sharp and uncomfortable.
He sighed, the sound low and tired, more from the weight of the moment than from exhaustion.
The silence returned, but this time it was different. Not tense, not angry — just heavy, filled with the quiet truth of her loneliness and his reluctant awareness of it.
The day had dragged on, Kev's mind restless. He sat alone in his dorm, crimson eyes fixed on the floor, replaying the fragments of the night before. Instructor Lira's words echoed faintly — you were rushing your drinks… you became more drunk than me…
But the thought gnawed at him. The wine he had taken was weak, barely enough to dull the senses. Why was I drunk at all? The question pressed harder, twisting inside him. Something was wrong.
The silence of the room was broken suddenly.
The door burst open.
Kev's head snapped up, his body tense. A boy stepped inside — golden hair catching the dim light, golden eyes sharp and unyielding. His presence filled the room like a storm.
Behind him, guards followed. Their boots struck the floor with heavy rhythm, their movements precise.
Before Kev could react, two guards seized him, forcing him down. His crimson eyes flared with confusion and anger. "What the hell is going on?" he spat, his voice sharp, strained.
The golden‑haired boy looked down at him, his gaze cold, filled with hate. He said nothing, only stared, the silence heavier than words.
Kev's mind raced. Did someone see me enter or leave the female dorm? Did Instructor Lira say something?
The tension thickened.
Then, another presence entered. Zack stepped in, Ron at his side. Zack's smirk was unmistakable, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Kev looked up, his jaw tightening.
Zack placed his hand casually on June Wes's shoulder, his tone calm but edged with something darker. "June Wes… could you explain what is going on?"
The room fell silent. All eyes turned to June Wes.
The guards' grip on Keal was firm, pressing him down against the weight of the moment. His crimson eyes flickered with confusion, his breath uneven.
June Wes turned, his golden hair catching the dim light, his voice sharp but deliberate. "You know what is going on, Zack Zehimer."
Kev's mind stumbled over the words. What is going on? The silence in the room seemed to stretch, every second heavier than the last.
Zack removed his hand from June's shoulder, shrugging as he began to pace slowly. His tone was calm, almost mocking. "Come on… do you really think it was Keal?"
June's golden eyes narrowed. He stared at Zack for a long moment, the tension thickening. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted to Keal.
"Who else could it be?" he said, his voice low at first, then rising.
He turned back to Zack, his anger spilling out in a sudden shout. "Who else could have killed July? He just needs to tell us where he went the other night, and it will be fine!"
The words struck Keal like a blade. His body stiffened, his breath shallow.
Killed… July?
He looked down at the ground, his thoughts spiraling. The silence pressed against him, suffocating.
Then, slowly, his head lifted. His voice broke through the air, raw and disbelieving. "What… what do you mean she has died?"
The room froze. The accusation hung there, heavy, unyielding