Page 90 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

I study Scarlett's profile as we walk, noting changes I should have seen earlier: the slight hollow beneath her cheekbones, the way her uniform hangs just slightly wrong, the careful way she measures each step as if conserving energy. How many other signs did I miss, too caught up in my own dramas to notice an enemy becoming a potential casualty?

There has to be something we can do.

The thought burns like acid in my mind. Marcus's research, his family's medical empire that's just been restored – surely there are options? Treatments? Something to fight whatever poison they've used to ensure her compliance?

But even as I think it, I know the reality is likely far more complicated. Whatever they've given her was probably designed to be irreversible, a lesson written in blood and bone about the price of disobedience.

The whispers continue around us, students speculating about this unexpected alliance:

"They look like opposite sides of the same coin now..."

"Something's definitely changed between them..."

"Why isn't Barbieri with her usual crowd?"

If they only knew. If they could see past the careful facades we all maintain, past the games of power and position, to the real battle being fought. Would it change anything? Would it matter?

The fountain comes back into view, its aggressive angles suddenly seeming like a monument to all the sharp edges in our world. Water continues its careful dance over metal and glass, each drop falling exactly where it's meant to, uncaring about the human dramas playing out in its shadow.

I need to talk to Marcus, I decide, already planning conversations about research and possibilities.Need to understand exactly what we're dealing with, what options might exist.

"Things are going to change now," Scarlett says, her voice carrying an edge of warning that makes me pay closer attention. "You should be careful who you interact with."

The morning light catches her shortened hair as she turns slightly, making it look almost like copper wire – beautiful but sharp enough to cut. "How so?" I ask, noting how my Kings have maintained their protective perimeter while still giving us space to talk.

A bitter smile plays at her lips. "Now that ascension has happened, this isn't just 'second year' anymore." She watches my confusion grow before explaining, "The school year is based on the ascensions of the Ruthless Kings, Deviant Lords, and Savage Heirs. All three courts went through with ascension, regardless of the changes entailed."

Understanding begins to dawn as she continues, "Which means the school curriculum is affected. We're in the final year now."

I nod slowly, pieces clicking into place like tumblers in a lock. "So the stakes are higher than ever," I observe, a smile playing at my blood-red lips. "More targets on my back. How exciting."

"You would find that exciting," Scarlett agrees sarcastically, though something flickers in her eyes – respect maybe, or envy of my apparent fearlessness.

We pass another cluster of roses, their thorns gleaming like warnings in the morning light. "Why help me then?" I ask, studying her profile. "When you're my enemy, if you really think about it."

She pauses mid-step, causing me to stop as well. The rest of the courtyard seems to fade away as she considers her answer. "I wasn't necessarily your enemy," she admits finally. "My objective at the school was to slow all potential Maidens down."

We share a long look, the weight of unspoken truths hanging between us like smoke. "Is that still your objective?" I askquietly, watching her face for tells she probably doesn't realize she's showing. "Even now?"

Her answering smirk is meant to be mocking, meant to maintain the carefully crafted image she's worn like armor all these years. But I see through it now – see the fear she's fighting so hard to conceal. It's there in the slight tremor of her hands, in the way she holds herself just a bit too straight, in how her eyes can't quite maintain their usual sharp edge.

"What if I gave you a new objective?" I whisper, letting my voice carry just enough authority to make her really listen. "One that means protecting you?"

The smirk wavers, though she tries to look mockingly offended. But I catch it – the slight dilation of her pupils, the barely perceptible catch in her breath. Hope, dangerous and unwanted, flickering behind her carefully maintained facade.

"I'm not meant to have a happy ending," she says, but the words lack conviction. They sound rehearsed, like something she's been told so many times she's started to believe it.

"This isn't a fairytale," I counter, moving closer until I can see every detail of her carefully neutral expression. The roses watch our confrontation with their blood-red blooms, silent witnesses to this moment of potential transformation. "I'm not thriving for a happy ending."

My Kings remain at their posts, but I feel their attention sharpen as I step fully into Scarlett's personal space. The morning light catches my new haircut, and I know the effect is deliberately intimidating – all sharp edges and dangerous grace.

"Maidens can wish for knights in shining armor," I whisper, close enough now that only she can hear. "They can dream of being saved by the hero. But me?" A dangerous smile plays at my blood-red lips. "I'm a Queen. A Ruthless one who isn't waiting for anyone to protect her or save her."

Understanding begins to dawn in her eyes as I continue, "Because I can save myself. And I can save you too, Scarlett, if you let go of that ego and strive for the survival you're so desperately begging for."

The words hang between us like a blade waiting to fall. Around us, the courtyard continues its morning routine – students hurrying to class, whispers following our every move, the fountain playing its endless game of light and water. But here, in this moment, time seems to stop as Scarlett processes what I'm really offering.

Not just protection, but purpose. Not just survival, but a chance to rewrite her own story. To transform from a pawn in someone else's game into something far more dangerous.

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