ᵍʳᵃᶰᵈ ᵐᵉᵉᵗᶤᶰᵍˢ
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| Dedicated to ade_nikeh |

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          Everything in the auditorium was just as it was hours ago.

Except for slight modifications.

The air for one, held no rigidness and the brisk comportment as earlier; the students were still reveling in their exotic air and class, but in a light and playful manner, and the hall was illuminated in fierce, sun rays.

The Ruthanners' bitchiness was the only thing radiating in its strongest glory.

Bitchiness and glory—sassy and creamy: a combination peculiar to only the rarest of their royalties, even to the lowliest of Ruthanners.

"Ow!" Tara cried out, watching with a shocked expression her flavored drink knocked to the floor and spilled a trail of drops.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" The girl she'd bumped into, a newly enrolled royal,  spunned around and darted to her knees to save the remains of the drink. "I'm so sorry. Here..." She stood up, thrusted the cup drink to the older Ruthanner.

Tara gave her a once-over, face contorted in disapproval and despisement. She slapped the girl's wrist away and pushed past, went on her way.

Every bubbliness and brightness puffed out of the new girl's face like a balloon that's been punctured. She had the rare opportunity of running into a high-ranking jewel - like every new students wished for - and she blew it up. Now she was sure she was a blacklisted face on whatever unseen log of the high royals, another thing any new royal desperately hoped to avoid. They weren't really alienated from the Gems' Empire, they had older siblings, friends and parents who were, are students and have business dealings with Ruthanne Georgeson, and its founder—Eamon. They had inkling ideas as to the stuff going on at Ruthanne.

It was like a Kingdom; no it was a Kingdom, among the students only and things were run exactly like an empire - with a King, Queen, Chiefs, Guards, Warriors, a Messenger, and so many other titles. Students go on exile, get coronated, were sentenced, and made to appeal for a crime and latching onto an immune royal through a crooked or honest way, was the only way to sail through the system. The greatest rule however, etched subconsciously into the minds of the students (subjects in the Kingdom) was not to get expelled.

Ren has always been implicitly acknowledged as the King, but he paid no mind to any of the bureaucratic shenanigans going on at the school, and Morgan therefore was the fill in; the acting King. Renee was the Queen, no it was a position that a non or related blood could hold.

The Diamond, the second ranking in the system, was ruled by a Princess - Ivie - and her group of "counsels". The Diadems and the Diamonds wielded the most power, and were all together in a different status from the remaining three ranks.

Odetta waltzed across the platform, alighted onto the first step and stopped on the second. She began pacing its length as all attention from the students—holding their breaths and immobile like a mannequin—were paid to her.

She stopped, sharp and began her address abruptly.

"Welcome. Royals and commoners," she started with a smirk. "If I were you, I'd wipe that scrunch off my face. Why are your brows creasing? Because I said commoners? Yes, you heard right. You think everyone of you is fit to be a royal Ruthanner?" She chuckled and continued. "Who knows where you're coming from hmm?  Who knows what your intentions are? -" . . . "-to spy? Blackmail? To wreck havoc and leave some damages? We won't allow that. And that is why we are putting a test to you all. All new students."

She stepped aside and Bolu who'd been standing beside her took over the address.

"The test is a series of challenge you'll complete for five different stages. And passing them will determine for us if you're made of RGHS stuff. There will be prizes and um, titles to earn: your mobility and freedom, seating spots at the cafeteria, the number of sports and activities you can participate in, invitation to parties and your climb up the social rank which will bring you in closer contact with more important personalities—and also romantically." She grinned, the side of her lips touching her golden hoop earrings. "Acing the tests will bring you these nifty luxuries.

"...for every stage you pass, you'll be given a jewel ring by us. Jewel rings of different gemstones just like the ones we all are putting on." And she raised a hand to the ceiling, wriggling her fingers and flipping her wrist back and forth and back and forth. The cut and polished blue stone in the ring on her finger caught a light and reflected it in tiny speckles. The Diadems behind her imitated her action, displaying their rings of the same stone. Other high royals sitting at the meeting too had their hands up for the babies to see. Their rings snagged beams of light, displaying dazzling colors of red, and yellow, and green. The new royals were beyond impressed by the look of awe on their faces as their heads rotated in every way.

"Only in the first stage will you not get a jewel ring," Bolu continued. "You'll get a band for that, and then you become a jewel." Her voice took a dip. "That is the lowest rank. But hey! Be happy! At least, you don't get to have nothing! Unlike those who wouldn't pass the test." She flipped her human hair and gave a soft laugh, moved about lightly. "As the term proceeds, we'll let know more on the remaining tests for the other... stages." And on her heels she turned, went back up the stairs, across the stage and to where her peers are seated.

Seconds stalled; the air in the hall crackled and slicing coldly during the wait, and then Odetta stood. She faced the students, bearing the treasured information their whetted curiosity can't wait to be satisfied with, and bellowed out: "Our first test for the term will be . . . . . . . . . . The Test of Eloquence!"

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          On the other side of the glass partition, Mariah, a few important associates at Ruthanne, Ren, Asha Brooks and the three awardees of the Sophia's scholarship sat around a steel-top round table.

A man's head swung to the right, and back and to the right again, conversing as his lips moved in unheard words while others watched.

A swish passing of seconds later, their heads shifted from place in simultaneous nods and they eased back into their swivel seats, allowing a crack in their business-like shells.

Their steel faces shone and Mariah arose, prompting the others to do so one after the other.

They began exchanging pleasantries and handshakes, randomly, from the person sitting next to them to the one on the opposite left. A big hand belonging to an hugely fit, black man clasped Demi's extended own towards Ren. She served a polite smile.

The procession out of the room began, Demi being last to the meeting room. It was a conference room on one of the floors in the Residence Building.

Mariah was at the doorway, chit-chatting with some of her assistants as Demi tried to squeeze past. Catching sight of a thin frame, she called out to the kid. "Demisola?"

Demi stopped, her mind disorienting for a split second in trying to register the identity of the person calling her.

It was Mariah Georgeson! the Headmistress.

Demi turned to look at the woman, the surprise on her face so blatant.

Mariah only grinned at her and went ahead to wished her. "Enjoy your stay at Ruthanne."

Demi shoved a mask over her facial features before replying, "Thank you, ma." And she turned away, her long feet taking her down the long hallway. The words of the Headmistress cemented themselves onto the slate of her heart.

Simple; but so heavy.

Kind words.

Hurtling to a long way. It was a line of light pushing through the dark swirls of her thoughts to get to her underneath, extricating her, and nudging her to swim to the surface. To taste what the crispy air of the sea, or in this case the scented air of Ruthanne Georgeson felt like.

And she yielded, gave way to the words. She allowed them pull her up to the top like a rope being thrown to someone in a dark well.

She suddenly felt alive. Happy. And optimistic. The euphoria the words created washing through her, and propelling her to another corridor in the building. Paintings lined its wall on either side; up and down. Lots of it.

Surreal, real life, oil painting, landscape. Some by artists forever immortalized and some ascribed to anonymous artists.

Demi paused in her stride to take in the beauty of the splashes all around her. It felt like she'd walked into a tunnel of hues and dashes and her curiosity, tagging along every which way, drove her forward. The wall led to another turn which she dived into and came to face with the most magnificent painting she's seen in her whole life.

This was the biggest, so wide and taking up a large portion on the wall. It was just inches from reaching the ceiling and centimeters from the ground.

It was majestic.

Deep.

Delicately crafted.

Dripping of aesthetics...

Demisola stared transfixed for a long time, transported to a metaphysical realm filled with nothing but sensations. Pleasing sensations.

And then she felt the eyes on her.

The spellbound snapped, pelting her back to Earth as she ripped her eyes from the painting and wrung her neck backwards.

The white boy . . . Ren, she realized.

Her eyes dilated as she came to face with him standing behind a crystal wall and watching her with puzzled grey eyes. The still air in the corridor no longer reached her throat.

His brows drew together, eyes glinting questions before his lips was twitching to form them. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Uh—sorry, I. I lost my way."

Maybe uttering those, or the words themselves or how she said it was responsible for breaking the fleet enchantment. She started backtracking, not for a moment sparing a second thought or look behind till she found herself back at the earliest hallway. She slammed against the wall, bringing her upper eyelash to meet the lower.

Well, what was that?

Or was it even a thing?

Did anything happen?

She felt somehow though.

With heart still flapping in her ribs, she stood upright against the wall and tried to find her way to the stairs leading to the reception. She didn't walk for long before sighting it from a distance, casting her eyes down in relief as she sauntered towards it.

A shocking, searing pain speared through her shoulder tendons from the impact of the smack of a shoulder against hers.

What is it with her and running into people?!

This is fourth time she's "crashing" into someone today now!

She'd ran into Posi at home, then the crazy girl from assembly, the head boy minutes ago, and now this. If she was the type that believed in omens, she'd think some deities were trying to communicate a message to her.

Or maybe they were.

Trying to tell her to go out and be sociable?  By literally pushing her into people?

A look at the deathly, bone-chilling, dark eyes of whom she'd collided into had any thought of a deity intervention flying out of her.

This can't be an omen to make friends, no, she was figuratively standing within a lion's bounds.

Voice dislodging and heart forsaking her, she was clueless as to how, when and what mumbo jumbo began to tumble from her empty lungs. "I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry- I..."

Yes, babblings and babblings and babblings—

"If you were where you were meant to be, would you be here running into people?"

Her fright for the boy in her front momentarily took a backseat as her mind pored over his words, trying to decipher its meaning and coming up stumped.

And that was the exact thing her face was showing.

"Get the fuck down." Morgan cocked his head towards the staircase beneath him.

Demi could only sneak a peek at him before she was skipping down the stairs. At the bottom, she stole a look up at him to find him calmly descending and telling her through his eyes to go on.