Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Queen vs. Political Theatre

“AH-HEEM!”

That was a sneeze, allegedly. Judging by the sound, it should’ve come from a weightlifter, not the compact creature bundled in fleece. Koala—no, Birgit. Right. She followed it up by blowing her nose like she was trying to summon rain, sending a wave of eucalyptus straight at Eydis.

Eydis didn’t bother hiding her disgust and dove into Natalia’s arms. Natalia yelped, protecting her curry.

Never again. One fever-cuddle was plenty. Birgit could keep her germs.

“Bless you, B. Are we seriously eating out here? In this weather? Mon dieu.” Colette tugged her yellow scarf over her nose like a mask and fixed Birgit with a stare. “You need a check-up.”

“It’s just seasonal flu, Colette. Everyone’s catching it.” Natalia tugged at the arm Eydis had commandeered. “I need my arm.”

“Mmm?”

No movement. Eydis didn’t believe in giving up warmth voluntarily.

“I can’t eat like this,” Natalia squeaked.

With a grand sigh, Eydis detached herself and faced her plate. Turmeric and cumin climbed into her royal nostrils, stomach, and eyes.

In the back of her mind: Bark, bark! Which loosely translated to, You don’t get to be picky, Your Majesty.

But Eydis, ever the master of selective hearing, filed Cerberus’s protest under “unimportant yapping.”

"You were cute once, Natalia,” she muttered, mourning her lost space heater.

“C-C-Cute?”

“You were. Before you rejected my extremely reasonable cuddle.” Eydis gave her plate a death stare, oblivious to Natalia quietly combusting beside her.

Then, the air grew warmer. A localised heat radiating from Natalia’s direction. Eydis tilted her head, puzzling.

"Not. A. Word, guys!" Natalia hissed, blushing harder.

"But didn't you say you dis—" Birgit began. Colette’s elbow cut her off. “Ow.”

An unspoken exchange passed between Colette and Birgit: twitching brows, shifty eyes, and a clear drop-it look from Colette that was impossible to misread.

Unfortunately, Birgit had never been particularly good at reading a room.

She glanced between Eydis, who looked quietly entertained, and Natalia, whose face was now verging on curry-coloured.

“You’re flushed, Nat,” Birgit persisted. “Could be curry, exertion, or… embarrassment?”

Eydis’s grin widened.

Colette sighed. “Whatever happened to subtlety?”

“It’s the cold,” Natalia said quickly, too quickly. 

“R-Right! The weather,” Birgit stammered, eyes darting between Colette’s deadpan stare and Natalia’s panic. “Or maybe… up your vitamin C? Studies say it helps. A little.”

Natalia nodded eagerly. “Perfect. I’ll just buy out the entire citrus aisle. Mandarins, oranges, whatever!”

The topic slid, mercifully, to food and gossip. Chatter drifted from other tables; a few glances drifted too.

Birgit’s glasses slipped when she slumped slightly. “Wish people would stop with the juice-box story. It wasn’t dramatic.”

“You were hospitalised,” Colette said.

“But—“

“For two hours,” Colette added.

“Still...”

“Juice box?” Natalia rolled her eyes. “Try getting surprise-chiropracticked by a power-hungry newbie on camera. I’m a meme.”

“Oh my gosh, that video did go viral,” Colette said. “Tiffany always irked me, but what happened was tragique. Her dad even held a prayer circle.”

"A prayer circle?" Eydis repeated, pretending this was news to her.

“Total PR stunt.” Birgit pushed up her glasses. “Vote Blackwood: The Man Who Cares. His face is everywhere.”

Eydis arched a brow. The frog-loving introvert had teeth. “Frog dissection comes with political commentary now?”

Birgit flushed yet held her ground. “Still into frogs. Also reading. What happened to Tiffany, and to me,feels… hmm off. Like, really wrong.”

“Supernatural?” Colette asked. “Everyone’s kind of assumed that already.”

“Not just that,” Birgit said quickly. “It’s her dad. His rise has been insanely fast. Suspiciously fast for an Independent. And now he’s hosting a masquerade ball at City Hall?”

Natalia perked up. “Wait. Like, an actual masquerade? With masks and everything?”

Birgit’s excitement jittered. “Yes. Masks, gowns, everything. City Hall usually books a year out.One week it’s prayer circles, next it’s a fund-raising gala.”

"Fundraising? How utterly pedestrian.” Eydis baited Birgit with a knowing look. “Unless, it’s just a vanity parade in disguise. Redundant for someone already bathing in wealth.”

Colette snorted. “Welcome to democracy. My parents vote on hairstyles. C’est la vie, or rather, c’est la democracy.”

"Democracy is mostly illusion,” Birgit said. “And Eydis, you clearly don’t know how expensive these campaigns are. Even small Senate races eat up tens of millions. But Alchymia’s not like the rest, we’re technically our own Territory.”

Natalia groaned. “This is giving me a headache. I’m just glad I don’t have to vote. When is it again? May?”

“End of May,” Colette said. “You’re not eighteen till July, right?”

“Lucky,” Natalia muttered, before diving into birthday plans with Colette.

Eydis glanced back at Birgit, who looked a little deflated. “What makes a Territory so special?”

Birgit brightened. “Wait, you didn’t know? But aren’t you—?” She caught herself. “Sorry. I forgot.”

Eydis shrugged. “So did I. You’ll have to forgive my persistent case of amnesia.”

“Sorry…” Birgit winced. “ Alchymia’s kind of the center of Gifted society. We’re under the High Assembly, not the Federal Government. So our Senate seat actually matters. Like, nationally.”

“And running as an independent?”

“Brutal,” Birgit replied. “The two big parties dominate everything. Even with money, he shouldn’t be polling that well.”

She lowered her voice. “Unless it’s not just politics. Unless there’s something else going on. Something less… natural?”

Eydis stirred her untouched curry. “The establishment is off balance.”

Birgit blinked. “Yes! Exactly. Both parties are scrambling. Their ads are everywhere. It’s like they’re watching me. I can’t even scroll in peace.”

“Watching you?” Colette rested her head on Birgit’s shoulder. “My feed’s just puppies and skincare tutorials. Maybe your phone thinks you’re running for office.”

Ignoring the tease, Birgit tapped her screen, revealing a polished photo of a silver-haired man, eyes gentle, almost saintly. Vote Noah Blackwood.

Eydis sighed. “Spending must be excessive.”

"Excessively excessive,” Birgit said with an eager nod. “Hundreds of millions, maybe more. I saw a breakdown on Scrollit, it’s a lot.”

Eydis smirked. “Hence a gala for donors and egos.”

“Yes,” Birgit said. “I mean, it makes sense. He’ll invite Alchymia’s elites, influencers… the usual.”

Eydis leaned back. “Hah.”

Birgit’s shoulders sagged a little. “That’s it? Just ‘hah’? Don’t you think it’s strange? Even a little?”

“Of course,” Eydis said, patting her shoulder. “Your analysis is thorough. Hard to argue with.”

That was sincere, mostly. But Eydis had already made her decision. She wouldn’t be watching this ball from a distance. She’d enter it.

Birgit turned pink. Across the table, Natalia, quiet until now, spoke up, “You’re into politics now? Weird I haven’t seen any of those ads. My feed’s been dead.”

She started scrolling through her phone, frowning.

Colette leaned over. “Maybe they’re targeting a more… mature audience. Meanwhile, Natalia’s is full of NovelBins and emotionally unavailable love interests.”

Natalia sputtered. “I—what? No! I’m over that phase.”

Her eyes flicked to Eydis, then down to her screen. She quickly tilted the phone away and mashed the volume down.

Eydis had already drifted to plans. She would not observe this gala from afar. The only real problem was how to get inside. She didn’t have a dress. Or connections. Or even a forged invitation. And a gala packed with politicians and Gifted elites wasn’t the easiest place to blend in.

Still, it might not be coincidence. Athena and the Student Council had started digging into the purple smoke too. If their leads lined up, they could be heading for the same place.

Then a yelp broke through her thoughts.

She looked up. Natalia was stuffing her phone into her pocket, face burning.

“You good?” Colette asked.

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” Natalia grabbed her plate and cutlery in a rush. “Never better!”

She all but sprinted out of the courtyard.

The rest of them exchanged confused looks.

“Interesting.” Eydis watched. Weird. But whatever that was could wait. She had a masquerade to attend.

And before that, a more pressing challenge to survive.

Astra.

Eydis sighed and turned her gaze toward the Primrose dormitory. Its plain beige walls had never looked more like a fortress. Somewhere inside, Astra was no doubt seated in perfect stillness, radiating frost and quiet judgment.

Eydis straightened her blazer, her back, and then headed for the dorm.

Let the battle begin.