Coding Decoding | on going

t w e l v e

Isla awoke in a tangle of sheets, her breaths shallow, her heart still pounding with the memory of her dream. Lukas's presence lingered like a phantom, his touch still warm on her skin, a touch that wasn't supposed to matter but had set her pulse racing in a way she couldn't ignore. She sat up, staring at her hands, trying to steady herself. It was just a dream. A trick of the mind. And yet, her heartbeat wouldn't settle.

As she made her way through the early morning light toward the hall, her mind raced. She'd trained herself to be calm, to keep her emotions as hidden as her movements. But this... this felt dangerous. Somehow, he had slipped past her defenses.

Lost in thought, she didn't immediately notice Alvero standing at the far end of the hall, bathed in sunlight as he laughed with a friend. She froze, watching him from a distance, his easy smile momentarily pulling her from her chaotic thoughts. For a moment, everything else melted away. His figure seemed softened in the light, a comfort that reached back to her earliest days here.

She remembered one of her first weeks at CPA, when Alvero's father had found her in the halls, quiet and lost, standing out as the girl with no legacy in a place where everyone else seemed born to belong. Alvero's father, the janitor-a man who everyone here ignored-had reached out to her in those early days.

With a gentle, slightly unsteady voice, he'd assured her, "You're Alvero's friend. And any friend of his is family." His words, spoken through a speech impediment that made each syllable slow and careful, had become one of her earliest memories of feeling welcome. His kindness had offered a steady warmth she hadn't expected, and she'd often found herself missing it on days like this, when her footing in this world felt like it was slipping.

Family, what a damned word, she thought before she entered the corridors of CPA with Alvero.

Alvero met her eyes across the hall, lifting a hand to wave. But her heart, already unsettled, twisted as guilt and confusion flared. She gave him a short nod before looking away, unable to face him. Whatever was shifting inside her, it was only pulling her further from the simplicity they'd once shared. She hurried on, ignoring the feeling of his gaze on her back, knowing he was still watching, concern in his eyes.

As the morning progressed, voices began to swell in the hall. Herald Vergara stepped forward, his voice echoing through the gathering. "Everyone, I have an announcement," he declared. "We'll soon be hosting a second royal celebration...an engagement party."

Isla's pulse raced, the weight of his words settling heavily over her. An engagement. With everything around her changing, this announcement felt like another step forward on a path she couldn't control, trapping her in a life that felt as if it were closing in around her. She managed to slip away, needing the quiet of the academy's empty corridors.

She didn't realize she was being followed until she felt a hand catch her wrist, pulling her back into the shadows of a nearby classroom. Her instincts kicked in, and she reacted on reflex, landing a punch before she even registered her attacker's face.

Isla's pulse pounded in her ears, louder than the sound of Lukas's grip holding her steady. Her hand throbbed from the punch, but the sting was overshadowed by the shock of his closeness-the feel of his breath, the faint scent of cedar and something else, something warm and unsettlingly familiar.

Lukas leaned closer, his gaze catching hers in the dark. His lip was split, a fine line of blood tracing the corner of his mouth. "That," he murmured, a hint of humor in his voice, "is one hell of a welcome."

Isla fought the urge to take a step back, to create any space between them, but the tension held her in place. "What do you want, Lukas?" she demanded, her voice low and edged with suspicion. "I don't know you. I don't trust you. And you keep... appearing."

He didn't smile, but there was something in his expression-a flicker of sincerity, barely visible in the shadows. "I know," he said, voice soft. "And you don't need to trust me. But I need you to hear me out."

She raised an eyebrow, not moving from where she stood. "So, talk."

Lukas hesitated, his gaze shifting away for a moment, his usual charm replaced by a quiet vulnerability. "I lied to my father," he said, his tone measured, careful. "I told him I had my eye on someone. That I wasn't interested in an arranged marriage." He paused, almost as if bracing himself. "That someone... was you."

The words fell between them, and Isla's instinct was to laugh, to dismiss it as some ridiculous ploy, but his face betrayed no hint of amusement. For a moment, the world felt thin, his words slipping through her guarded walls like smoke. A flicker of something hopeful, something dangerously unfamiliar, tugged at her, only to be stamped out by her own sense of reason.

"And why would I care about helping you lie?" she asked, crossing her arms, her tone biting. "What's in it for me?"

Lukas's gaze sharpened, meeting hers with a steady intensity. "I know you're not one to just follow orders," he said. "You've got your own motives for being here, same as me. This arrangement could buy you time, maybe give you some protection. They'd see you as... off-limits."

He was fishing, but not aimlessly; it was clear he saw her as more than just another girl lost in the maze of palace politics. She watched him, gauging the conviction in his eyes. "And if I agree?" she pressed. "What's your real reason?"

Lukas swallowed, his voice low. "I need to be free from their expectations. From being something I'm not, someone who always does the 'right' thing." His eyes softened, just a trace, enough to let her glimpse the weight he carried. "This isn't about power, Isla. It's about not wanting to become another piece on their board. I can't live my life pretending to love someone I don't."

There was a pause, a drawn-out silence that lingered between them, charged with an unspoken understanding. Isla's defenses wavered, the weight of his words cracking the edges of her skepticism. She knew the price of being used, of having her loyalty dangled as bait.

Finally, she exhaled, a slow, measured breath. "Fine," she murmured. "But understand this-I don't owe you anything beyond what we agree on. And if you think for a second I'm going to play the lovesick girl in front of your court, you're wrong."

A small smile tugged at Lukas's lips. "Noted."

For a split second, their eyes met, something fragile, something impossibly rare hanging in the balance. But then, with a blink, it was gone, retreating into the darkness like a secret neither of them dared to keep.