PRINCESS ACADEMY

1. Curfew Rule

All students must return to their dormitories by 8:00 PM.

Dorms will be locked after curfew.

No student is permitted outside after this time.

2. No Night Movement Rule

Students are strictly prohibited from moving around the academy grounds at night.

Any unauthorized movement after curfew is a violation of academy rules.

3. Attendance Rule

All students must maintain a minimum attendance of 75%.

Repeated absence without valid reason may affect progression within the academy.

4. Academy Conduct Statement

“A Future Princess Does Not Become Like The Cruel Prince.”

Students are expected to maintain dignity, discipline, and decorum

Aeryn

Finally, today had come—the day I, Aeryn Voss, was leaving for the one and only Princess Academy.The entire house was alive with movement.Maids rushed through the halls carrying bags, snacks, and neatly packed boxes. It felt less like a departure and more like a carefully prepared ceremony.My mother held my hand tightly. Her green eyes stayed fixed on me, filled with emotion she was trying hard to control. Her red hair was pulled into an elegant bun, perfectly neat—yet her grip on me told a different story. Mirelle stood beside her. Her emerald green eyes were already glassy with tears. She looked at me like she was trying to memorize every detail of my face, like letting go was the hardest thing she had ever done.

“You’re really going,” she whispered softly.I gave her a small smile. “I have to elle” .Across the room, my father, Alaric Throne, stood slightly apart from the chaos. As always, his expression was unreadable. But there was a softness in his dark ocean-blue eyes today—something quiet, something hidden.He didn’t speak much. He never did.But somehow, his silence always meant more than words. I was going to the Princess Academy—not just to learn, but to uncover the truth about my family… and the history I had only ever heard in fragments. My grandmother had always been a mystery in my life. I had never met her. Only stories remained—whispers of someone important, someone whose past was tied deeply to everything I was now stepping into. And then there was Cedric. My uncle was moving through the room like a storm contained in human form.“Checklist… checklist…” he muttered under his breath, flipping through the paper in his hand again and again.He was at the vehicle now, checking my luggage like the fate of the world depended on it.His chestnut-brown hair was slightly messy from all the rushing. His steel-blue eyes darted from bag to bag, calculating, rechecking, overthinking everything.

“This is missing,” he said suddenly .“it’s not missing,” I replied calmly .He paused. Looked again. “ ” oh. It’s not missing.”I let out a small laugh. “Cedric, I think I’m the one going to the academy, not you. He sighed dramatically, still not convinced. “Yes, yes. Very funny. But if anything happens—” “Nothing will happen,” I interrupted softly.But even as I said it, something inside me tightened. Because I didn’t know yet…. the Princess Academy wasn’t just a place I was going to. It was a place that was already waiting for me.I got into the carriage and waved goodbye to my family one last time, my mother holding my gaze until the very end with her green eyes full of something she wasn’t saying, Mirelle standing beside her clutching her dress tightly as she tried not to cry, my father Alaric Throne watching quietly as always, distant but present in a way I couldn’t ignore, and Cedric still holding his checklist looking far too stressed for someone who wasn’t the one leaving. Then the door closed and just like that I was gone. The carriage started moving slowly and I finally let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Inside my bag I reached for a small pocket-sized album along with my ID tag and all the important things I had packed for the academy. I opened it again and her face was the first thing I saw—my grandmother, her light hazel waves soft and effortless yet strangely familiar, reminding me of Mirelle whom I call Elle, her hair darker than my grandmother’s but still similar in the way it fell in soft waves, while her eyes always made me pause because they felt so close to mine, like seeing a reflection of something deeper in our family that no one ever explained. I stared at the pages quietly, feeling like I was carrying more than just a photo album, like I was carrying questions I didn’t even know how to ask yet.And then I arrived at a tall castle built with precision and grace, with details that mesmerized one and all. The princesses since last year were all updated, except grandma, the first real princess. She is a princess in everyone’s eyes except the academy. Even the students admired her, but not the academy members, as if her name belonged to the stories the students kept alive rather than the official records of the place. It felt strange standing in front of it knowing that someone from my own family was both so respected and yet so quietly set apart from everything this place stood for. As I stepped foot, I felt a vibration. It was strong, electric, and energizing. It ran through me in a way I couldn’t explain, like the ground itself had noticed my arrival. I paused for a moment, looking down at my feet and then back up at the massive structure in front of me. Everything felt too real now—the height of the castle, the weight of the silence around it, the way the air itself felt different here. My grip on my bag tightened slightly as I stood there, trying to steady myself. This wasn’t just another building or another school. This was the Princess Academy. And somehow, I knew the moment I stepped fully inside, nothing would feel the same again.and then i met my roommates, they split us into three this year.

Lysandra seemed kinder than Nyra, but not in a weak or simple way. There was something steady about her presence, like she didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. She didn’t talk much, but when she stood there, it felt like she was already understanding the room better than most people in it. Her hair was curly green, falling in soft natural waves that gave her a slightly untamed look, but it somehow still felt controlled, like she knew exactly how to carry herself without trying too hard. Her brown eyes weren’t loud or expressive, but they held depth—quiet intelligence, patience, and awareness, like she noticed every detail but chose carefully what mattered enough to react to. There was something reliable about her, something that made her feel like the kind of person who would never be easily shaken, even if everything around her changed.Nyra Korr stood beside her with deep purple hair that immediately drew attention, bold and sharp in a way that felt powerful rather than soft, styled deliberately and slightly intimidating, and her eyes were nothing like my mother’s or Elle’s—they were something completely different, a piercing gaze that felt cold and direct, like it didn’t soften for anyone or anything. I tightened my grip on my bag slightly as I looked at both of them, two completely different silences, one steady and grounded, the other sharp and warning, and I was stuck right in the middle of it.

Azren

Entering the Prince Academy felt like a dream come true. I had come here for one reason—to become like the one person I had admired since I was a boy, the Wicked Prince, the ultimate legend, someone I had been learning about since I was young, a prince who was hated by many but defeated by none. I had studied every story about him, every fragment of history, every whisper passed down over time, and now I was finally here, standing inside the place that trained future rulers. My eyes moved across the rule board as I stepped further into the Prince Academy grounds, and there it was, the last rule, “Future princes should not become like the Wicked Prince,” and I paused for a moment, reading it slowly, a faint smirk forming because it sounded less like a warning and more like something written to be broken. I stepped forward past the board, past the warnings, past everything that tried to define what a prince should or shouldn’t become, because I already knew one thing clearly, I wasn’t here to avoid becoming like him, I was here to become exactly that, and as I walked deeper into the academy I observed everything around me like pieces on a board they didn’t even know they were part of, a small amused smile forming as I took it all in, “So this is the future of the kingdom,” I thought to myself, voice only in my mind, calm but edged with quiet confidence, a few eyes turning toward me but I didn’t react, instead I tilted my head slightly, that faint smirk still there, like I already knew how this story was going to unfold, and as I continued walking I added silently to myself, “and who knows, maybe I’ll even find my real princess here.”

Aeryn

The first day, they let us settle in. The next day at 4 a.m., we were all woken up suddenly. They didn’t tell us this would happen. Everyone rushed to wake up and get ready in confusion. Lysandra was struggling a little with her curls, so I helped her. She was really sweet and innocent, just like Elle. I had already kept my outfit ready—the one my mom picked out. It was a beautiful color that matched my hair perfectly, flowing in a way that looked elegant, with the back longer than the front and the front reaching just below my knee. I wore long black boots and tied half my hair with a black bow. I added burgundy lipstick and soft black smoky eyes. When we entered the room, there were over a hundred chairs arranged in rows. A few people were already starting to arrive. For a second, I thought maybe I was overdressed… and I regretted it a little. But there was no time for regrets. I needed to find a seat. Lysandra and Nyra got separated from me in the crowd. I found a chair quickly and sat down. I talked to myself quietly. Aeryn, catching a seat might be easy, but getting a title… oh boy, I’m up for so much. Then I noticed the guy sitting next to me. He had his face covered with a black bandana, revealing only his eyes. Eyes I had never seen before—deep purple, sharp and unreadable—staring straight into my blue ones. I quickly turned away just as the room started to fill and the speaking began.

Azren

I had just sat down and I was smirking inside my bandana because I got a seat under good air. I wore the bandana to keep myself a mystery at the start, and right when I was done smirking, a girl quickly sat next to me. She had pretty, almost straight burgundy hair and she leaned back in the chair and said to herself, “Aeryn, catching a seat might be easy, but getting a title… oh boy, I’m up for so much.” She didn’t even realize I could hear her. She was really cute and didn’t notice I was staring. Then she suddenly turned and caught me staring, and when she looked at my purple eyes, she didn’t look away immediately until people started talking and she broke our gaze to turn and listen. I leaned back slightly, still looking at her from the corner of my eye. She was bold… not the loud kind, not the show-off type, but the kind that didn’t even realize she was bold. The kind that just existed like she belonged anywhere she stood. I loved the color of her hair—the way it looked rich, fierce, impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just pretty, it had presence. I had never seen a color like that before, not on someone who also carried herself like she didn’t know the effect she had on people. And for some reason, I couldn’t stop looking at her.

The meeting was just about general rules and one rule I couldn’t forget—the Wicked Prince rule. I was grinning at that rule the entire time, like it was more of a joke than a warning, something people said just to pretend they had control over history. When the meeting finally ended, everyone started standing and leaving in a rush. The girl from earlier hurried out too, and in the crowd she dropped a small black purse she had been carrying. I saw it fall, but before I could even react properly, she was already gone. I stayed there for a second, then picked it up and stared at it. I went back to my dorm and found my roommates already dozing off, probably tired from the early wake-up call, lazy, I thought, but my attention wasn’t on them. It was on the small shiny black purse sitting in my hand. A strange choice, I thought. Something about it didn’t fit her. I considered returning it to the Princess Academy headquarters, but then another thought came—what if I just gave it to her myself? And before that… what if I took a small peek? Just one. I told myself I would only look at one item. The first thing I pulled out was an album, smaller than the purse itself. Inside were pictures of a woman with light hazel hair. She looked familiar, like someone I had seen before or someone important I should remember, but I couldn’t place it. She looked bold and confident, her presence almost demanding attention even in still photos, and her eyes… they were the same color as Aeryn’s. A different name? I paused. Why was I even thinking about her? I quickly closed the album and tossed both it and the purse onto my desk, trying to push the thought away.

Aeryn

I returned back to my room as soon as possible to avoid the rush. I thought of talking to the purple-eyed guy, but I had to leave quickly. His eyes… sometimes they looked soft, almost meltful, and he kept holding that gaze on me like he was trying to figure me out. He was something. I felt like something was missing, but I couldn’t exactly place what it was, so I kept debating whether I should go back or just sleep for the day. And yeah, of course I went with sleeping. And I was still lying there thinking if I was overdressed.I slept peacefully and woke up at 6 in the morning and decided to wear something that would complement my hair again, so I wore a red georgette gown that flowed long and elegant. At 7 a.m. there was an announcement that a sort of trial was going to happen to separate us into different ranks—elite, average, and lower tier. I had trained my whole life for this. They explained that in this trial we could showcase any three skills we had mastered, anything from dancing, singing, running, archery, or even combat, and even though they sounded simple, I knew better because in a place like this even simple skills could decide everything. The moment I heard “trial,” I quickly changed my outfit into something more practical, a white fitted shirt with a red vest-like corset over it, paired with leather pants and boots that made it easier to move freely, something sharp and ready instead of elegant and slow, because elegance didn’t matter if you couldn’t perform. I chose archery, sword combat, and for the third I hesitated because it had to be something controlled and simple, but I had trained in many things since I was young, archery, sword fighting, even kung fu, so in the end I chose dance since my voice was terrible and I was not even going to pretend otherwise, I had broken a glass once just by trying to sing. And just like that I went for the

first trial—archery. I had trained in it since I was five, so I was confident, maybe even excellent. That was when I saw her—Nyra. She was already there. I gave her a warm smile, she looked like she forced a small one back, The line moved forward slowly. On my right, Nyra stood like she was born for this, completely still but ready, like she had already decided she would win. On my left stood a tall, slightly lean guy with black hair and blue eyes darker than mine, calm but focused. We were told to raise our bows—one arrow, one chance. That was it. No second tries. No excuses. My grip tightened around the bow as my heart started beating faster, not out of fear, but anticipation. I had trained for this. I was ready. Then the signal came—3... 2... 1... Go.I released the arrow.For a moment, everything slowed. The sound around me faded, the movement of others blurred, and it felt like time stretched just enough for me to feel every second of it. Then it struck. Clean. Perfect.“Aeryn—bullseye.”The place buzzed with applause, voices overlapping, energy rising. I exhaled slowly, lowering my bow. The lean guy beside me went next, his shot landing just below mine. Then Nyra stepped forward. She didn’t even hesitate. Her confidence wasn’t loud—it was sharp, almost aggressive, like she expected nothing less than perfection. She released.Bullseye.Of course.She turned back with a vicious smirk, flipping her purple hair over her shoulder like it was nothing. “I could do that with my eyes closed,” she said casually, taking her place beside me again. I didn’t respond, just watched.

Numbers were being called randomly. “Twenty-six.” “Forty-two.” “Nine.” The line kept moving. Then—"Five.”My breath paused for a second. Five. That was my lucky number. Why did that matter now?I looked up.And then I saw him.Number five stepped forward.That gaze.Those purple eyes.They weren’t just a color—they were something deeper, something that didn’t belong in a place like this, something that didn’t soften or shift like normal eyes did. They were intense, sharp, almost unnaturally steady, like they saw more than they should, like they understood things without being told. It wasn’t just purple—it was layered, dark at the edges, brighter at the center, like something glowing beneath the surface but controlled, held back.He stood there like the world around him didn’t matter.Then his eyes met mine.And everything else blurred again.it wasn’t like before. This time the gaze didn’t just pass—it held. Locked. There was no hesitation in him, no awkwardness, no breaking away. It was direct, deliberate, like he chose to look at me and didn’t care who noticed.For a second—no, longer than a second—it felt like time paused just for that.“Come forward, number five.”They had to call him twice.He didn’t look away immediately.That was the strange part.Most people would.But he didn’t.There was something unreadable in his expression, hidden behind that black bandana, but his eyes... they said enough. Not emotion exactly. Not softness. Not even curiosity.Something else.Something steady. Something dangerous.Something that made it impossible to look away.And yet—I did.I forced myself to.He stepped forward finally, calm, controlled, like nothing had just happened. Like that moment meant nothing.But it did.At least to me.I didn’t understand why.I had already seen him before. I knew those eyes. So why did I keep noticing him? Why did my attention shift every time he moved? Why did it feel like something was pulling my focus toward him without permission?It was just coincidence.It had to be.Right?