Forbidden Mate Legacy

The Academy's training grounds still bore the scars of yesterday's combat trials–scattered weapons and the lingering tension that refused to fade. Though the official fights had ended, their consequences had only begun.

Amelia sat in the dormitories common area, fingers curled around a steaming cup of tea. Every muscle in her body ached, a dull reminder of the brutal test of endurance she had endured. The victory from yesterday felt hollow now. Winning a match against a Demon elite had earned her respect, but it also put a target on her back.

"You are unusually quiet," Serah observed, plopping down beside her with a plate of fruit.

"I'm just tired." Amelia exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "Yesterday took more out of me than I expected."

Serah snorted. "It took a lot out of everyone. I visited the dormitory six, an hour ago. Marcus is still groaning in his room, and Eryk claims he's temporarily paralyzed. Personally, I think he just doesn't want to get up."

A small smile tugged at Amelia's lips, but it faded as her thoughts drifted elsewhere. Across the room, several students were talking in hushed voices, their glances occasionally darting towards her. She had heard the whispers ever since the trial ended. Some were impressed by her performance. Others were skeptical–curious how a human princess, seemingly ordinary, had managed to hold her own against a Demon.

She hadn't forgotten Kael's gaze on her after her match. He hadn't said a word to her since then, but something in his expression lingered in her mind.

A shadow fell over the table, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Speaking of Demons," Serah muttered under her breath.

Amelia looked up to find Rael standing before them, his usual smirk in place. Dressed casually, the Dark prince's best friend looked far too at ease for someone who had fought through the trials himself. Since they share a dormitory she knows many of Kael's friends.

"Princess," he greeted, sliding into a chair without invitation. His hazel brown eyes glinted with amusement. "You've made quite an impression."

Amelia lifted a brow. "Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?"

"Partially," he admitted. "But mostly, I came to ask–how did it feel?"

Serah scoffed. "She won a match, not conquered a kingdom, Demon."

He ignored her, his gaze never leaving Amelia.

She considered his question. How did it feel? Terrifying. Exhilarating. Like she had stepped into a world she wasn't sure she belonged in. but she wouldn't say that aloud.

"It felt like I needed to survive," She answered instead.

Rael chuckled. "A fitting response." He leaned back. "You do realize what this means, don't you? Beating a Demon elite isn't just an accomplishment–it's a statement. And now, people will want to test you."

Amelia had already figured that much. Strength in the Academy wasn't just respected–it was challenged.

"Let them try," she said, keeping her voice steady.

Rael's smirk widened. "I like you, princess. You're interesting." He stood, stretching his arms behind his head. "Kael will want to see you soon."

That caught her off guard. "What?" 

"Who knows?" he shrugged. "Maybe he wants to congratulate you. Maybe he wants to spar. Or maybe he's still trying to figure out if you're a threat."

Amelia frowned. "I'm not a threat to him."

"Aren't you?" Rael grinned before walking away.

Serah groaned, rubbing her temples. "Demons. Everything with them is a game."

Later, she found herself standing in the Academy's private training hall. She had not sought Kael out, but it seemed fate had decided otherwise.

He was already there, alone. Shirtless, his torso glistened with sweat as he swung his blade in precise movements, slicing through the air with calculated force. The hall was eerily silent except for the sharp hiss of steel and the steady rhythm of his breath.

She should have left. Should have turned around and pretended she hadn't seen him. But she didn't. 

Kael noticed her before she could make a decision. He stilled, lowering his blade, and turned to face her. His grey eyes assessed her with the same unreadable intensity they always held.

"Are you just going to stand there admiring me, Little flame?" Kael teased.

"Dark Prince," she returned, folding her arms.

"You've been avoiding me."

The accusation was unexpected. She hesitated before replying, "I didn't think you wanted to talk."

Kael tilted his head slightly. "Is that what you think?"

She met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I don't know what to think when it comes to you."

He considered her words for a moment, then gestured to the weapon rack. "Pick one."

She blinked. "What?"

"We're sparring," he said simply.

"Now?"

"Unless you're afraid."

Her jaw clenched. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Good," he said, tossing her a practice sword. "Then show me what you got, Little flame"

Amelia tightened her grip on her sword, watching Kael with narrowed eyes. He stood opposite her, his stance relaxed, almost careless. The smirk on his face made her blood boil, yet she couldn't deny the strange pull between them. He twirled his blade effortlessly, as if the fight was merely a game.