White Knight

A.N: Hello my sweet pumpkin pies! Please note that this is Book 2 of the Spirit Binding series. I recommend you read Hyacinth High first because the story here picks up after the events of the first book. ++ Thank you for your consideration and support. If you can leave a comment and engage with the chapters, it helps out your dear author a lot! xx

Please note that this is a work of fiction. Characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. While some recognizable real-world public figures or locations may appear to establish historical context, the interactions, dialogue, and events involving them are entirely fabricated and are not intended to depict actual behavior or facts.

Copyright © 2026 by NightChild

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

An example of what a courtyard palace (Hyacinth High) would look like for the readers that skipped the first book in the series. (In case I’m too lazy to take the descriptive route, this time around. hehe.)

Hyacinth High:

Madam Khannah clasped her hands on the table in front of her. The town council meeting was usually held at the River Club near the River El. But recent events have left the place trashed beyond recognition.

A morbid thought glimmered in Madam Khannah’s mind and she wished the fire had taken the establishment’s owner with it. She quickly cleared the thought away.

Ensi of Hyacinth, proud owner of River Club (or whatever remained of it), was too big for the chairs in the library. He wiggled uncomfortably, picking at a scab in his hand. “Of course this was no easy decision,” he yammered in the manner of someone who knows what they're talking about. “We have considered the situation at length and carefully studied all the applications.”

Madam Khannah doubted his statement strongly. She knew there were no other applications to study except her own. Following Principal Mostafa AzVard’s death, an administrational vacancy opened at Hyacinth High. She had made the rounds among the teachers urging her peers to help with the tasks, yet not a single one of them cared for the added burden.

She ended up fulfilling the role herself and surprisingly found that she enjoyed it immensely. Madam Khannah loved the children and they loved her back. More importantly, they respected her and listened to her command. The other teachers relied on her to solve any arising problems and to keep things running smoothly. It was a new experience unlike any other that filled her with unmitigated pride.

However, at this moment Madam Khannah was starkly aware of her skin color. She removed her hands from the table and slipped them underneath the desk, as if that could do anything to deter them from seeing the visual difference between her and everyone else in the room.

The Ugarit Matron cleared her throat announcing to the adjoined council, “We have decided on Professor Nasrat to be the new resigning head of Hyacinth High, serving as its Principal, and overseeing to the staff and the students’ welfare.”

The color drained from Madam Khannah’s cheeks, while a wave of congratulations echoed in the room around them. Hands clapped Professor Nasrat’s back and he bowed his head ashamed.

With the intruders off the premises, Madam Khannah made her way back to the teacher’s lounge.

Behind her, Professor Nasrat came running. “Madam Khannah, please,” he urged.

“I did not realize you had designs on the position,” she said, hurt lacing her words. “You will do a great job, nonetheless. Congratulations.”

“No, no, I do not,” Professor Nasrat denied. “I never sent in an application, they just caught me off guard. I will speak to the Ugarit Matron in private and decline the position. It should belong to you, the other teachers will back me up on this,” he steeled his nerves, having decided on his next set of actions.

Madam Khannah chuckled bitterly. It seemed her skin color had not escaped the Council’s notice after all. She grabbed Professor Nasrat’s arm to stop him. “This is how it must be,” she shrugged. “However, I must impose a favor on you for your very first act as Principal.”

Professor Nasrat’s shoulders slumped. In the face of long-standing traditions he was forced to kneel in defeat. “Anything for you Madam,” he told the straight-backed woman.

“I would like to return to my home country to attend the funeral procession for the departed princess. Would you be able to manage for a week here without me?” she asked.

Professor Nasrat welcomed the students back with open arms. His new title as Principal felt daunting but he straightened his back and resigned on making it work.

Late arrivals stood in front of him, fidgeting with their robe sleeves. “Sorry sir, I overslept,” Nahro pouted. Nasrat’s heart ached for the boy. With everything happening in his life, it was only natural for him to feel exhausted. His sister has been detained by the magistrate and Nasrat knew that soon the story would spread in the school like wildfire.

“It’s alright, return to your class,” he told Nahro, kindly.

“What about me?”

“What about me?”

“Sir, I overslept too, can I return to class?”

“What? No,” Nasrat staggered, shook by the blatant audacity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Preferential treatment, already?”

“If he gets away with it, why can’t we?”

Objecting voices whizzed in the air around Nasrat, looming over his head and threatening to swallow him whole. “Everyone return to your sessions,” he acquiesced. Nodding his head he resumed walking to his own assigned class. Professor Inana came rushing toward him in a flurry of white and beige scarves fluttering in the wind.

“Sir, what shall we do with Professor Gregory’s students?” Professor Inana asked.

Professor Nasrat swallowed back his bile. Dread started to wash over him like an added layer of skin. “What did Madam Khannah do with them over the last two days?”

“She merged their classes with other classes, I think,” Professor Inana scratched her head in confusion.

“Then do that,” Nasrat suggested.

“Sir, the classes weren’t selected at random. They were able to join Physical Education yesterday during the two hours allocated to Professor Gregory, but now that she’s not here, there’s no one to give Physical Education, either….” Inana explained with a lopsided smile.

“Let them join my class then,” Professor Nasrat stated solemnly like a man on death row.

“Your class isn’t big enough…”

“We’ll move to a bigger one,” Nasrat wheezed, turning around to hurry to his class. His students were starting to cause a ruckus, their voices carrying down the hallway and disturbing other classes.

Daveed shimmered with excitement. He was always looking forward to spending more time with Eva, and now their classes were combined. “Hello,” he twittered, scooting into a seat next to her. “What are you working on?”

Eva gave him a helpless look, raising a finger to her mouth in a silencing motion. Daveed nodded and sat straight looking at the chalk board. However, Professor Nasrat was not really teaching anything. He was scattered all over the place, trying to calm the students down, while having to respond to their completely irrelevant queries.

Approximately six seats further back, Ran, Dani and Reyes whispered among their own. “What do you think will happen to Nahrin?” Reyes murmured behind a cupped hand.

“Some form of manual labor, she’s too young to be thrown in prison,” Ran murmured back. His face was slightly drained of color.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Dani placed a reassuring hand on his thigh. “Madam Khannah already knew she did it, she was bound to get caught sooner or later.”

Ran spared him a look and then bent his head down to hide the flush in his cheeks. Dani’s hand scorched where it laid instead of easing his nerves like it was intended to. He didn’t know how it started or when it did, but at some point he’d begun anticipating contact with this boy. It left him feeling all jittery and nervous.