Fates of Fortune

The start of something complicated

Esmeray's POV

It was only her first week at Le Rosey, and already, Esmeray could feel herself being drawn into a web of dynamics she hadn't anticipated. After the second game, she had returned to her room, thinking about the fierce rivalry between Edmund and Nathaniel, about the way both boys seemed to command attention without even trying.

Today’s classes felt like a blur, and as she walked through the bright, modern corridors between periods, she noticed students glancing at her. Being new and American at Le Rosey made her stand out, but she wasn’t here to impress anyone; she was here because she had to be. The students she passed each seemed to fall into a group, playing their part perfectly: the charming ones, the athletic ones, the overachievers. Each person seemed to have a place. Except for her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. “Hey, new girl,” Edmund’s voice cut through the crowd, and Esmeray felt a strange mix of curiosity and annoyance rise in her chest.

She turned to see him leaning casually against the wall, a small smirk on his face. It was that same look he always had—a little bit cocky, a little bit amused, and entirely too self-assured.

“Is ‘new girl’ supposed to be some kind of nickname now?” Esmeray replied coolly, crossing her arms.

Edmund’s smirk only grew. “It’s better than calling you Vanderbilt. Besides, you don’t strike me as the type who cares what people call her.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I don’t. But I care about how people say it.”

He laughed, and she could tell he was genuinely amused, which only irritated her further. “You’re different from the other people here,” he said, his gaze steady. “Most people either want my attention or hate me from a distance. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to care.”

Esmeray rolled her eyes, feeling her patience thin. “Why would I care? I have enough going on without needing your approval.”

“Interesting,” he said, still watching her. “So what did you think of the game last night?”

“Which part?” she replied, unable to resist the challenge in his gaze. “The part where you and Nathaniel nearly threw punches, or the part where you lost?”

His smirk faltered slightly, and she felt a small victory. “Fair enough,” he admitted, his tone more serious. “I’m guessing you enjoyed watching me lose?”

“I enjoyed watching the game,” she replied, side-stepping the question. “It was intense.”

“Intense is just one word for it.” Edmund’s gaze flickered past her to a group of passing students, one of whom was Nathaniel himself, laughing with a few of his friends. The casual, magnetic charm Nathaniel carried seemed to fill the corridor, and Esmeray could sense a shift in the air as he approached.

Without thinking, she looked over at him, and just as he glanced up, their eyes met. Nathaniel offered her a casual, friendly smile, and though it was brief, she felt a warmth in his expression. Then, just as quickly, he turned back to his friends, his attention gone.

Edmund’s voice pulled her back to the moment. “You’re interested in him, aren’t you?”

She stiffened, caught off guard by his blunt question. “Why would you think that?”

He shrugged, his eyes studying her reaction. “It’s obvious. The new girl, drawn to the golden boy. Classic.”

Esmeray felt her cheeks heat, and she bristled at his assumption. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his tone softening for the first time. “But you’ll find out that everyone here fits into their place, like a chessboard. Nathaniel’s always the king. And I…” He trailed off, his smirk returning, “...I’m just the wildcard.”

The comment hung in the air, but before she could respond, he straightened up. “See you at the project meeting later, Vanderbilt.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing there, both frustrated and intrigued.

Edmund's POV

Edmund was still replaying his conversation with Esmeray in his mind as he headed to his next class. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much about her opinion, but something about her indifference bothered him in a way he couldn’t shake. It was almost refreshing. Most people either gravitated toward him or avoided him, but Esmeray...she treated him like anyone else, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that.

As he slid into a seat in the back of his economics class, his thoughts drifted. Alexander’s words from the other day echoed in his mind: “Don’t scare her off.” It was a strange warning, but he could see Alexander’s point. Esmeray was clearly sharp and observant, and she didn’t play into the expectations people had for her.

His train of thought was interrupted when Nathaniel entered the classroom and took a seat toward the front. He watched as the other students greeted him with easy familiarity, and Nathaniel returned their attention with that same effortless charm.

Nathaniel looked over his shoulder, his gaze catching Edmund’s for a brief moment. Edmund held the stare, his expression unreadable, before Nathaniel finally turned away. There was no animosity in Nathaniel’s glance, but there was something unspoken—a competition, a rivalry that went beyond words.

The class settled into a quiet hum, and Edmund found his focus shifting back to Esmeray. She was an unknown factor, someone he couldn’t quite predict, and he found himself wanting to understand her more—though not out of any romantic interest, of course. It was more like a challenge, something that scratched at his pride.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and he headed toward the library where he knew he’d be meeting Esmeray for their project work. As he entered, he spotted her already seated, flipping through her notes with focused intensity. He approached and set his bag down beside her, his presence announcing itself.

“Ready to work?” she asked without looking up, her tone more professional than anything.

He nodded, taking a seat across from her. “Sure. Let’s get started.”

They worked in relative silence, both of them focused on their respective tasks, only occasionally exchanging comments or ideas. But throughout, Edmund found himself stealing glances at her, watching the way her brows furrowed slightly when she was deep in thought, the way she would occasionally tap her pen on the table in a quick, rhythmic beat.

After a while, Esmeray looked up, catching his gaze. “What?”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing. Just wondering if you’re actually having a good time here.”

She tilted her head, considering his question. “It’s...different. I’m still adjusting.”

“Adjusting to the people, or the place?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She hesitated before responding. “Both, I guess. I don’t know where I fit in yet. But maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Good thing?” he repeated, surprised.

She nodded. “I don’t want to fit into anyone’s box, not here. I’m fine on my own.”

He regarded her for a moment, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Careful. People might think you’re trying to be mysterious.”

She shot him a glare, but he could see the hint of amusement in her eyes. “Maybe I am.”

The subtle challenge in her voice made him chuckle, but before he could respond, she closed her notebook and stood up. “Alright, I think we’ve done enough for today.”

He watched as she gathered her things, feeling an odd mixture of frustration and fascination. She was like no one he’d ever met at Le Rosey, and he couldn’t tell if that annoyed him or intrigued him. Probably both.

As she turned to leave, she paused, looking back at him with a raised eyebrow. “See you around, wildcard.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving Edmund with a smirk on his face and a question lingering in his mind: Who exactly was Esmeray Vanderbilt, and why did he care so much about finding out?