She kissed my shoulder before pulling away, and that simple gesture made lying to her feel even worse. She trusted me. She believed in my ability to navigate us through this mess. And I wasn't sure I could.

We got dressed in silence, pulling on the black and red academy uniforms that would define us for the next three years. The material was higher quality than anything I'd owned before—stiff, formal, and restrictive in a way that seemed appropriate for New Vein Academy's reputation. Natalia's uniform hugged her curves in a way that should have been illegal for a school outfit, the pleated skirt hitting mid-thigh and showing off legs that went on forever.

Natalia adjusted her collar in the mirror, then frowned at a spot on her neck that was definitely going to bruise. A dark purple mark was forming just above her collarbone, visible despite her attempts to adjust the uniform. She pulled her hair forward, trying to cover it, arranging the strands over her shoulders like a shield.

"Don't bother." I came up behind her, gently moving her hair back, exposing the mark. "Own it. If anyone asks, you were sparring."

"Sparring." Her lips twitched, a hint of that morning's playfulness returning to her eyes. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Would you prefer aggressive training? Intense physical conditioning? Stress relief exercises?" I met her gaze in the mirror, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

She actually laughed at that, the sound lightening the tension that had settled over us. She turned her head and pressed a quick kiss to my jaw, careful not to leave any lipstick marks. She was getting better at this secrecy thing—we both were.

I went to my desk and started carefully disassembling Bartholomew's terrarium. The little guy was currently munching on a piece of lettuce, completely unbothered by the chaos of the morning. His shell gleamed with a faint, unnatural sheen that hinted at his bronze-tier status. Must have been nice being immortal and having literally zero fucks to give about human drama.

"You're really bringing the snail?" Natalia watched me work, her expression somewhere between amused and incredulous. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. "To the most prestigious Hunter academy on the continent?"

"He's immortal. And he's family." I carefully transferred Bartholomew to a smaller, travel-sized container I'd bought specifically for this. The snail didn't even pause in his lettuce consumption, seemingly unconcerned about his change in accommodations. "We don't leave family behind."

Even if said family was a bronze-tier familiar that did absolutely nothing except exist and eat lettuce. I'd grown strangely attached to the useless little gastropod. Maybe because he was the first tangible proof I'd had that the System wasn't just a hallucination—that I really did have power in this world.

"You're so weird sometimes."

There was real affection in her voice. Not the mocking kind I'd grown used to in our early days. The genuine kind that made my chest do stupid things, like tighten and warm simultaneously. I wasn't used to someone looking at me the way she did now—like I was something valuable, something worth protecting.

My phone buzzed, interrupting the moment.

Text from Luka: 'Got called in for an early briefing. Sorry I missed you guys. Go make me proud. Both of you. Love you.'

There it was. The reminder that we were actively deceiving one of the only genuinely good people in this entire fucked-up world. A man who'd taken me in when he had no reason to. Who treated me like an actual son. Who believed in me when no one else did—when I didn't deserve an ounce of his faith.

And I was repaying him by fucking his daughter and dragging her into a conspiracy against the most powerful organization on the continent.

Son of the year material right there.

The guilt was a physical weight, pressing down on my shoulders and churning in my stomach until I felt sick with it. He trusted me. And not just with his own life, but with Natalia's too. The one thing that mattered most to him in the world, and I'd corrupted her, turned her into my willing accomplice in a scheme that could get us both killed.

Natalia saw the message over my shoulder. Her smile faltered, the light in her eyes dimming. The weight of what we were doing settled over us like a wet blanket, suffocating and cold. She stepped away from me, creating a distance that felt symbolic of the gulf between the life we wanted and the reality we faced.

"He's a good man," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah." The single word was inadequate, but I couldn't manage more through the knot in my throat.

"This is going to destroy him when he finds out." She looked down at her hands, twisting them together nervously. It was one of the few gestures that betrayed when she was truly upset—a tell I'd noted long before we became lovers.

"I know."

We stood there for a moment, both of us grappling with the reality of our choices. The morning light streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the floor, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air between us. In that light, Natalia looked younger, more vulnerable—a reminder that for all her strength, she was still just a teenager, thrust into a game with stakes she couldn't fully comprehend.

Then Natalia straightened her shoulders, and I watched her put on the armor. The Ice Queen expression slid over her face like a mask, transforming her from the soft, warm woman I'd held in my arms into the cold, untouchable princess the world knew. Her chin lifted, her eyes hardened, her posture became rigid and perfect.

"We'll deal with that when we have to."

She was right. We did. But the knowledge did little to ease the ache in my chest.

I secured Bartholomew's travel case and tucked the Liar's Brooch inside my uniform jacket. The weight of it was reassuring against my chest, the cool metal warming quickly against my skin. At least I'd know when Kimiko was lying, even if I couldn't stop her from seeing through mine. It was a small advantage in a game where I felt increasingly outmatched.

I took one last look around my room—the bed still unmade, the sheets still bearing the evidence of last night's activities. I should probably change them before we left, but there wasn't time. Another clue for Kimiko to find, another piece of evidence pointing to what we'd done.

Kimiko's voice drifted up from downstairs, clear and melodic, cutting through my thoughts like a knife.

"Satori! Natalia! Breakfast is getting cold!"

The innocent words carried an undercurrent I couldn't quite decipher. Was there knowledge there? Suspicion? Or was I just paranoid, seeing threats where there were none? Either way, we couldn't hide in my room forever. It was time to face the music and see just how good our acting really was.

I looked at Natalia, and she nodded, understanding without words. We were in this together now, for better or worse. She stepped toward the door, then paused, turning back to me with a vulnerability that she rarely showed.

"Whatever happens down there," she whispered, "I don't regret last night. Not a single second of it."

The words hit me harder than they should have, loosening something tight in my chest. I reached out, brushing her cheek with my knuckles, a gesture too tender for the monster I pretended to be.

"Neither do I, Princess. Neither do I."

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