Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Queen vs Self-Care 

Eydis gripped the bedsheet. Not for dramatic effect, though she wasn’t above that, but because Natalia’s fingers were surprisingly effective. Her hands moved methodically, firmly.

"Ah. There,” Eydis said. Her back arched slightly. “Harder.”

Natalia didn’t rush. Her fingers adjusted angle and pressure. “That the right spot?”

Eydis’s response came out as a purr. Not intentional. Just reflex. “Lower, please. If you don’t mind. It’s been a while since anyone’s done this for me.”

Natalia continued. The fact that she was this competent with this was a pleasant surprise. Eydis hadn’t even known she needed this until now.

Then Natalia stilled. Outside the door, footsteps passed. “Did you hear that?” 

“Hear what? The never ending song of hair and acne? Absolutely riveting,” Eydis replied dryly. “Keep going. You’ve found your true calling.”

“Eydis! What if someone walks in and thinks I’m giving you a… a personal massage?”

Eydis tilted her head more firmly into Natalia’s lap. “It is personal. And it is a massage.”

Natalia stammered something unintelligible, then gave up and resumed her work. “Apply this daily. Your hair might actually start cooperating.”

Eydis gave a small hum of agreement. Then opened one eye as Natalia reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out a small tube. “Also… this should help with your acne. Though I only have one, so you’ll need to restock online.”

“With my bank account, I can barely afford essentials, let alone a hair conditioner.” Eydis groaned.

From conquering empires to budgeting for toiletries, this whole ‘reincarnation’ business was proving to be a royal pain. 

"Tell me, Natalia. What’s the modern solution to not having money? Just… take what one needs?" Eydis sighed wishfully. "Ah, the good old days..."

Natalia frowned. “The academy has a strict no-uh-‘borrowing’ policy, Eydis. But there are student jobs! Barista, librarian… something with structure.”

Eydis stared at her. “Barista. Librarian.”

Barbarian.

The words felt like a punishment. 

“Speaking of roles,” Eydis muttered, “what’s your ability?”

“Fire,” Natalia said. “And no, I’m not setting your bed on fire. It’s against the rules.”

Naturally. Everything here had rules.

Eydis propped herself up on her elbows, studying her. “You could still show me. Light up my life. Literally.”

Natalia flushed. “You really don’t understand personal space, do you?”

“Not particularly,” Eydis said. “Also, you’re avoiding the request.”

“Only in the Sanctuary. We’re restricted to using powers there.”

Eydis rolled onto her back, unimpressed. “Rules again. Didn’t seem to stop Athena from eavesdropping earlier.”

Natalia’s eyes widened. “Athena? But she hates using her ability.”

So it wasn’t casual, then. It had been intentional. That was… irritating.

“What about Astra?” Eydis asked, watching Natalia closely. “Is she also an empath?”

“No,” Natalia said. “Her powers are… advanced. We don’t even know the full extent. But no mind-reading, as far as I know.”

Eydis blinked. “My roommate is that powerful?”

Natalia grinned. “Duh. How else would you be so smitten with her?”

Eydis scoffed. “Smitten implies something sentimental. It is a concept that escapes me entirely.”

"You, with your perfectly sculpted…” Natalia caught herself. Her cheeks turned bright pink. “…vocabulary. You have a big vocabulary. And no concept of love?”

“Love?” Eydis murmured, testing the word. “Complicated. Messy. Possibly fictional. Some ideas are more difficult than solving for x.”

“Speaking of x,” Natalia said, “you caused a bit of a scene in math class this morning. You always avoided the spotlight before. What changed?”

"Clearly, that didn’t save me from a baseball bat, did it?” Eydis raised an eyebrow. “Some powers attract trouble. Some people do. Hiding doesn’t change that. It just delays the inevitable.”

Natalia said nothing. She resumed combing through Eydis’s hair instead. “Sometimes,” she said, after a moment, “you speak like a queen. And lately, you’ve been surprisingly… open.”

Eydis allowed herself the smallest of smiles. Her eyes drifted shut.

 “Not with everyone.” Then, without warning, she reached up and gently took Natalia’s hand. “You’re an interesting one.”

Natalia flinched, flushing all over again.

“You alright?” Eydis asked, amused. “Amanda’s caught something nasty recently. Hope it’s not going around.”

Natalia jerked back like she’d been shocked. “It’s late. I should go. Consider the conditioner a parting gift.”

She practically fled the room.

Eydis stayed where she was, sprawled across the bed. One brow lifted. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, she’d said to make Natalia flee.

“Daddy, please…”

Tiffany’s voice was thick with tears and smeared eyeshadow. Pain throbbed in her cheek; her lips tasted of copper and shame.

Thomas did not need height to dwarf her. One look did the job.

“Expelled?” he snapped. “Do you know how much I poured into getting you into St. Kevin’s? You were meant to build a future among the Gifted, not pick fights with gutter trash.”

Tiffany flinched. The sting of his words cut deeper than the bruises.

Talentless.

It had followed her for years, no matter how hard she trained, no matter how carefully she built her image. Because of that smug, four-eyed freak, everything was crumbling.

Thomas’s hand lashed out. The slap flung her onto the marble; air whooshed from her lungs while papers skittered across the floor.

“Read it, you idiot!” he barked.

Her fingers shook as she lifted the first sheet: an X-ray of Eydis’s skull with a dark stain at the rear.

Permanent memory loss.

A ringing filled her ears.

No.  

No!  

This wasn’t fair. It was all her fault.

"How many times have I told you not to leave loose ends?" Thomas snarled.

Tiffany bit her lips. Eydis should have been the one to suffer. Why me? 

She barely heard her father’s next words.

“You’re grounded indefinitely. No phone, no car, no privileges. The family has suffered enough humiliation.”

He slammed the door shut, leaving her sobbing alone. 

Tiffany curled around the duvet she had never chosen, sobbing. Her nails dug into her cuticles until they stung. Not that anyone cared.

It wasn’t fair.

She had done everything right. She smiled when she was supposed to. She wore the dress they picked. She played the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect Tiffany. And one tiny mistake was all it took to erase everything. 

She needed something. She didn’t know what; but more. 

Lavender drifted on the air with a hint of smoke. Her head snapped up.

Purple mist slipped in through the window, winding through the room like it had been invited. It looped around her head like it had done it before. Like it knew her.

"Invite me,” its voice was silky smooth and seductive, “And everything you’ve ever wanted will follow.”

Tiffany’s chest felt too tight, and her fingers went back to her cuticles. They were red now, bleeding a little. "Who… Who are you?"

The smoke shifted, reshaping: something serpentine, something ancient, something watching.

“‘Accept me, and my power will be yours.”

Her whole body screamed run. But something inside her, bitter and tired and angry, leaned forward.

Everyone wanted her to be perfect. Tiffany this. Tiffany that. Maybe it was time she stopped caring. She shut her eyes and forced a breath.

“I accept.”

The smoke rushed her.

The vapor hit like ice and fire at the same time, shoving its way into her lungs, her throat, everywhere. She screamed as it reshaped her.

When it ended she knelt, shaking.

She opened her eyes. The mirror across the room caught her reflection: same face, same bloodied lips.

But her eyes glowed violet, and shadows danced along her fingertips. She looked down at the X-rays on the floor. A slow smile spread across her face.

“This time, it won’t be just a concussion,” Tiffany whispered to herself. 

No more loose ends.