The Poison Beneath the Ivy
Lucien kept his eyes on the blackboard as Louie Arnold began the lesson. The professor’s voice was clear, sharp, and oddly calming in a room filled with whispers and stares.
“…as expected, your knowledge of the empire’s history is lacking,” Louie muttered, glancing at the class. “Let’s see if any of you can redeem yourselves by the end of the semester.”
Lucien stayed quiet. The thick lenses of his glasses reflected the morning sun, and his messy blond hair kept most faces from remembering him anyway. That was the point.
He took notes mechanically. Halfway through, his pen paused. Something wasn’t right.
His fingers tingled slightly.
He frowned, glancing at his hand. Just then, a soft tap on his desk made him look up—and he froze.
Michael.
Lucien blinked. Michael? He’s in this class?
He hadn’t noticed him when he walked in—Michael wasn’t seated when he arrived, and Lucien had kept his head down the whole time. But here he was, sitting just two rows over, leaning forward with that ever-calm expression.
“Lucien,” Michael whispered, eyes narrowed. “Don’t eat anything today unless it’s sealed.”
Lucien stared at him. “What?”
“Someone slipped something into your bag this morning. I switched it out. Be careful.”
Lucien’s pulse quickened. He didn’t react—just nodded slowly. Michael leaned back, as if nothing had happened.
Assassination? Already?
Lucien hadn’t even made it a week in this school.
He clenched his jaw, his mind racing. Someone had already targeted him. Was it because of his name? His identity? Or worse—because someone knew who he really was?
The class ended too slowly.
When the bell rang, students filed out noisily. Lucien remained seated until the room was nearly empty. Michael waited by the door.
“You’re in this class?” Lucien asked, approaching.
Michael smirked faintly. “I skipped orientation. Figured I’d blend in later.”
“You could’ve told me,” Lucien said under his breath.
“I didn’t think we’d need to interact publicly so soon,” Michael replied. “But… plans changed.”
“What did they try to use?” Lucien asked as they stepped outside.
“A slow-acting toxin,” Michael replied. “In a candy wrapper. You would’ve passed out mid-lecture, and your heart would’ve stopped before night.”
Lucien muttered a curse. “You sure it’s not from the school cafeteria?”
Michael cracked a grin. “Sadly, this one was very intentional.”
Lucien exhaled heavily. “So it begins.”
They walked down the hall in silence, until Michael hesitated.
“Lucien… be careful. This place isn’t what it looks like.”
“I figured,” Lucien said. “Too clean. Too perfect.”
Michael’s jaw tightened. “There’s a reason only the elite are sent here. The academy has its secrets… and if you're not useful, you disappear.”
Lucien turned to him. “Disappear?”
Michael gave him a look. “You’ll see. Eventually.”
—
By midday, Lucien had barely eaten. Michael had slipped him a sealed protein bar, but even that felt suspicious.
He was making his way across the inner courtyard when a familiar voice called out.
“You missed lunch. Again.”
Lucien turned sharply. Vicente stood under a tree, arms crossed, his dark hair tousled from the breeze. A paper bag dangled from his hand.
Lucien scowled. “What do you want?”
“To keep you alive, apparently.” Vicente tossed the bag lightly. “Sealed. Tested. I even made the cook taste it first.”
Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Do you carry poison test kits around now?”
“No,” Vicente smirked. “But I carry people who do.”
Lucien rolled his eyes, though he took the bag cautiously. “Don’t think this makes us friends.”
“I’d be disappointed if it did,” Vicente said, watching him with that unreadable expression again. “But it makes you owe me.”
“Cute,” Lucien said flatly. “You want me to flirt with you now, too?”
“I wouldn’t say no,” Vicente replied, dead serious.
Lucien blinked, caught off guard. “You’re insufferable.”
“I know.” Vicente walked off, hands in his pockets. “Don’t die, Baldovery. It would make school boring.”
Lucien stood there, paper bag in hand, wondering if he just hallucinated that last part.
—
That evening, as Lucien made his way to the library to finish an assignment, he found the upper floor strangely deserted. The scent of old wood and ink filled the halls, along with something else—something faintly metallic.
He turned the corner—only to freeze.
A door stood ajar.
Inside was a study, filled with old scrolls, strange instruments, and—
A figure in a white robe, masked and hunched over an open book. Symbols glowed faintly around them.
Lucien didn’t move. His heart pounded.
Then, the figure turned.
Their voice was low, whispery. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Lucien ran.
Footsteps followed—but only for a few seconds. When he looked back, the hallway was empty.
He fled the building, breath sharp in his lungs.
So that’s the real academy, huh?
He stumbled into the courtyard, where the breeze cooled his sweat.
Someone tried to poison him.
Someone followed him.
Something… dark was at work here.
And he had no idea who to trust.
—
That night, lying in bed, Lucien stared at the ceiling, the moonlight casting shadows through the curtains.
Why me?
He should’ve stayed in the estate. Hidden. Safe.
But something deep inside said no.
This place… this school, this kingdom—it was tied to Lucien Baldovery’s fate. And Sunoo’s.
Even if he wanted to walk away, he couldn’t anymore.
Not with secrets clawing beneath the surface.
Not when someone already tried to kill him.
And certainly not with Vicente’s stupid smirk still haunting his thoughts.
Lu
cien sighed, turning on his side.
Tomorrow, he’d survive again.
And maybe, just maybe—he’d start finding the pieces of the truth.
Even if it killed him.