Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Queen vs. Awkward Morning-After

The light had the nerve to poke her eyelids, flickering with every gust that rustled the corpses of leaves outside. Eydis woke up already irritated, offended by how bright the world insisted on being.

“Fine, I get it,” she muttered; whether to the sun, her headache, or the rustling trees, she wasn’t sure.

She propped herself up and looked around the dorm. It was empty, save for a single teacup left behind as proof that the previous night’s conversation was real. Beside it sat a glass of water, half full.

How thoughtful.

She downed it in one go, but the drumming in her skull remained unimpressed. With each throb came a flash: a silk robe, now hers, its front parting in a way that could only be described as downright indecent.

"Well, this is mortifying." Eydis pulled the robe tighter and glanced around again. Astra wouldn’t miss a robe or two, right? The Ice Princess had enough delicate underthings to supply a boutique. Impeccable taste, for someone who could freeze a room with a glance. 

And yes, Eydis was a little envious.

‘It's not en—‘ 

She silenced Envy's insinuation. Who asked? Now that the fever had retreated, along with what felt like 90% of her dignity, it was time to regain control of her internal monologue.

She sat up and winced as her palm throbbed again. “Please tell me Astra didn’t see that.”

Vulnerability wasn’t exactly her thing. Then again, neither was running a fever from a single infected wound and losing most of her powers. Funny how fast things could change.

And then there was the snuggling, the nuzzling, the shameless warmth-leeching, the…

A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of her face pressed against Astra’s… neck? Please. Let it have been her neck.

Surely there had to be at least a shred of dignity left to salvage; and if there wasn’t, she could always resort to faking amnesia again. Unfortunately, the lingering softness against her cheek suggested otherwise, and with a groan of resignation, she flopped back onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow.

Which, of course, was a catastrophic error in judgement. 

The scent of Astra's shampoo taunted her. And how did she instantly know it was Astra’s shampoo? How was she supposed to face her now?

Teenage Eydis's unsolicited kiss had sent the Ice Princess shooting literal ice daggers with her glares. Now that those glares had softened to tolerable annoyance (for reasons unknown, perhaps Eydis was just that charming), she couldn't bear to face the awkwardness again. A kiss was one thing. Sleeping curled into Astra’s neck like it was her new favourite pillow—

Eydis didn’t want to finish the thought. But the library was starting to sound like a solid escape plan. Possibly a long-term one. Pain laced through her limbs at the thought of moving.

 “Okay,” she sighed, swinging her legs over the bed. “Time for that revitalising sigil.”

She mentally mapped out her day:

First, a shower, then get a sick note. 

Second, disappear into the library staff room. 

Third, avoid Astra like she was contagious.

Optional: invest in industrial-strength perfume to erase any evidence of last night’s… entanglement.

Still slightly damp from the shower and radiating lavender like a walking sachet, Eydis made her way toward the infirmary with a singular goal in mind: to abandon the glasses, channel an air of fragile elegance, and convincingly sell the illusion that she was one cough away from the afterlife. 

It would have helped, of course, if her body had cooperated by producing something that resembled an actual fever. But no.

Still, plan executed, sick note secured. Nurses just as easily flustered.

Glasses back on, she walked through the marble-floored main hall toward the library, noticing that the usual loud chatter was strangely subdued. Students looked flushed and dazed, blinking as if they had just stepped out of a dream. 

Was it a fever? Or had a rogue love spirit somehow infested the ventilation system? The nurse’s offhanded comment about yet another sick note certainly didn’t help ease her doubts.

She mulled it over for a moment, then gave a slight shrug and stepped into the library. It was quiet, as expected; but not quite empty.

Someone was in the Arcane section.

Theo. Of course. Slightly hunched posture. Eyes scanning the page like he might intimidate the glyphs into cooperation.

“Do Vice Presidents get a free pass to skip class,” she said, arms folded as she leaned against a shelf.

He glanced up, neutral expression settling in place just a moment too late to hide the way his nose twitched.

(Too much perfume. Noted.)

“Good morning, Eydis. And I wasn’t skipping. I’m just… reflecting.”

“Reflecting,” she said. “Is that your word for brooding?”

“Not brooding—analysing. Limitations, to be exact,” he replied politely. “And please, call me Theo.”

“Analysing limitations through a book? Isn’t that a bit contradictory?”

“Why would that be contradictory?”

“Books only show what someone else figured out first. You’re chasing limits… in a box of secondhand ideas. And can you even read those ancient glyphs?”

“Not all of them,” Theo admitted. “But books… they’re an escape.” His eyes drifted to a diagram on mana core expansion. 

Of course that was the book she’d come for. And judging by the fresh crease in the spine, he’d only just started; which meant he’d be hoarding it for the foreseeable future.

Now, how to pry it from him without resorting to... well, her usual methods?

"Didn't realise you were such a bookworm, Theo,” she said. The type who prefers smashing through walls to reading about how walls work, she added silently, recalling his aggressive combat style.

“Making assumptions, Eydis?”

“Assumptions are simply shortcuts," Eydis countered with a sly smile. "They streamline the thought process, save time. And besides, isn't it thrilling to have your expectations challenged now and then?"

"Didn’t expect that from you. Most people take offense."

“And yet here I am,” she said. “Defying expectations.”

“Touché.”

“Speaking of…” She leaned forward, just enough to make him shift. “That book you’re guarding? Pretty sure it’s not going to give you what you’re looking for.”

Theo lowered his voice. “And why’s that?”

“I’ve seen you fight. You’re not connected to your power.”

“You stayed. That was reckless enough.” Theo retorted. "Is that another assumption, Eydis?"

"Not assumption—observation," she corrected. "You devour every book in sight, but when it comes to turning that lens inward… you hesitate.”

His eyes fell to the floor. 

"Whatever it is you’re fighting, I’m not here to guess. But raw power isn’t enough, is it?” She let the thought breathe, then added, “Ever since I learned Natalia was Gifted, I’ve been reading up; trying to understand how I can help her.”

(A lie. But a convenient one.)

“And you know what I realised? Power isn’t about piling everything on your plate just because it’s there. It’s about knowing what to reach for and when to stop.”

Theo lifted his eyes. “But if you expand the table… or your plate, doesn’t that give you more to choose from? Isn’t that the point?”

“Maybe that’s what the books want you to believe. But you’re missing the bigger picture. Arcane theory’s kind of like those… what do you call them? Horseless carriages?”

“Horseless carriages?” Theo asked, frowning.

“You know, those things that move without horses. Or dragons. They run on… batteries,” she said.

“You mean electric cars?” 

Ignoring his poorly concealed smirk, she said, "Electric cars run on stored energy: batteries, mana. But just having power doesn’t mean you can move forward.”

"Cars are self-driving, you know?” 

Drat. Technology ruined everything.

Eydis shrugged. “And people still manage to crash them.”

“Half the time it’s user error,” he replied.

“Exactly. Power without direction is still a wreck waiting to happen,” she countered. “And besides, one software glitch and you’re splattered across the pavement.”

Theo winced, clearly picturing it. “I wouldn’t say splattered, exactly,” he said with a laugh. “But yeah. I’d rather keep my hands on the wheel. Those cyber attacks keep happening."

Eydis nodded. “Power’s meant to be steered. If you don’t, you’re leaving the decisions to something else.”

“Mana is sacred. We’re taught to listen to it, let it speak to us rather than bending it to our will,” he challenged.

Her eyebrows twitched at the word sacred. “Why so serious, Mr. Vice President?” she teased. “Is questioning our teachers not part of the learning process, even when they’re right?”

He seemed amused. “I did not imagine you as the rebellious sort.”

“That’s because you’re still assuming,” she replied, leaning forward until her fingers brushed the edge of his open book. “Treat power like something too holy to touch and you will never grasp how it works. You’ll never test its limits. And if you will not shape it, who will?”

She closed the book softly and watched his reaction. His eyes shifted from her hand to the shelf and then back again. She could hear the gears turning. Reassessing. Reframing.

Eydis had met people like him before. Those heroes who insist on doing the right thing but forget that hesitation can cost lives. He’d almost learned that the hard way in the dining hall. If she’d meant to kill him, she would have. Even in her weakened state.

Theo sighed and slid the book back onto the shelf.

“So it is not the size of the power you wield,” he said carefully, “but how you direct it, how you engage with it.”

Eydis tilted her head. “Look at you. Getting philosophical. Are you sure I’m not just making this all up as I go?”

This time his smile reached his eyes. “Perhaps, but you do have a gift for improvisation. And your analogies are surprisingly apt.”

“Great. I will take that as a compliment.”

He laughed softly before clearing his throat. “I will remember your words today, Eydis. Thank you.”

The bell rang, cutting off her reply, and he cast her one last glance before heading for the exit.

Eydis turned on her heel, the book she’d quietly liberated now hidden beneath her arm. And yet… there was something curious about Theo’s exit.

Where was he headed during lunch? As a librarian, Eydis had always seen him here, reading, even during meal times.

Curious, she summoned Envy. A shimmer of invisible mist slipped along the baseboards, already trailing after the Vice President’s path.