The black throne heir

CHAPTER FOUR - The one i do not touch

KAEL

As I walk through the gates of Obsidian High, preparing for my finals isn't quite easy,

my family's pressure is sickening, I'm the heir to the black throne, so I must be perfect.

I let out a sigh, an odd feeling creeping up my chest . The floors beneath my boots vibrate , a low vibration that usually means someone exceedingly powerful crossed the gates . I slow my pace , trying to observe .

Then I feel it again, Stronger this time.

I scan the courtyard, students moving around in cliques, I try to look past the crowd, i keep my posture controlled, trying not to give it away, students bow their heads slightly or step aside. They always do,It has been this way for years. In this kingdom my clan hold more power than the royal family.

Still peering through the crowd, I see her.

She is stepping into the compound with her back pack clutched close, shoulders slightly hunched, she most likely is of low caste. Obsidian gave out scholarships to ten low caste students from the ten villages in Aurum, who possess strong magic and prospects.

The moment her foot crosses the boundary line, the vibration spikes through me. My breath pauses. I have felt powerful signatures before, heirs of ancient houses, powerful bloodlines, Royals with too much magic, but this, this is different .

I do not know her. That alone tells me everything I need to know. I know every influential family in this school. I know their children, their bloodlines, their alliances. I know who paid for which wing of the academy, who funded which professor, who owes which vote on the Council.

She belongs to none of them.

Lowborn, she certainly is of low caste

But who really is she.

Classes move the way they always do, chaotic, power displays disguised as education.

In Advanced Magical Theory, I sit where I always sit, near the window, The professor talks about restraint and hierarchy. Students listen with half attention, already confident in their arrogance .

I'm not any different, I am listening for something else.

I feel it when she enters the room. The air shifts again. I glance at the reflection in the glass and catch her taking a seat near the back, plain uniform, no sigils stitched in gold. no family crest. She is five classes below me, how can a junior student possess such power and aura.

Interesting.

At lunch, my friends talk loudly about cars arriving next term. Imported engines, I try to respond accordingly, despite being bored of their repititive brags. My cousin Cassian is boasting about a new voting bloc his mother secured on the Council, my sister Elara is scrolling through updates on her crystal screen, commenting on which families are falling out of favor this season.

I pretend to smile where required, and nod when expected.

Sharply, my attention drifts.

I spot her sitting alone, shoulders tight, hands wrapped around her tray like it might disappear if she loosens her grip. Someone laughs nearby.

I do nothing.

That is the rule. The elites hardly mingle with the low caste, and it's totally prohibited for the Morvane family to mingle with any girl who isn't bethroted to them.

At home, restraint is survival, to sustain wealth and power, restraint is crucial for us

The Morvane estate is loud in the way only powerful houses are, servants move quietly, my father is seated at the head of the table, discussing infrastructure votes with my uncle, My mother listens, already calculating the consequences three steps ahead.That is all they care about.

"Elara's engagement strengthens our eastern alliances," my father is saying.

"Kael's presence at Obsidian maintains our visibility."

I am sick of it, more like I am a living bargain,a moving contract

No one asks how I feel. They never have.

After dinner, I retreat to the upper balcony, overviewing the kingdom which stretches out vastly, the city lights gleaming like stars. I should feel satisfied, this is the life I was trained for.

The day of the practical assessment arrives filled with tension . The arena is alive, with freshers trying to pull off their best magic and spells. I lean against a pillar on the upper level, arms crossed, watching .

Students perform as expected, fire shaped into pretty arcs, water sculpted into elegant displays, blood magic handled with caution h, the crowd reacts on cue, in my time it was more impressive, but this would do.

Then she steps forward.

The vibration hits me so hard my fingers tighten against stone.

She is calm, concentration fixed on her powers. When she raises her hands, the air bends toward her sharply

I straighten slowly, my interest peaks

This is not training, this is an advanced level

Someone interferes, I feel the disruption immediately. a spell meant to break her concentration, she absorbs it without breaking, transmutes and alchemise it into her magic. Perfect.

My lips curve before I realize I am smiling.

She looks up.

For a split second, our eyes meet.

The smile fades quickly and I turn away

After the display, whispers float through the stands , I do not need to hear them to know what they say. How exactly did one of the lowborns get a power like that .

I leave before anyone can approach me.

In the corridor, the vibration follows again, She passes at a distance, my magic reacts like it recognizes a frequency.

Who is she?

I repeat the question as I walk.

Curiosity is a weakness and attachment is a liability.

I brush it off

Every time she enters a space, something in me responds.

I have met power all my life.

I have never met this.

And for the first time in years, I am wondering what will happen if I lose control long enough to find out.