Chapter 5
1194 Words
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Chapter 5
The message stayed up for three days.
"ROYALTY FALLS TOO."
Administration sent cleaners twice, but each time, the words returned. Fresh paint, bold strokes, same spot. It was as though someone was daring Runo to blink first, daring her to run.
But Runo didn’t run.
Not this time.
Her past had taught her that fear was a house you built brick by brick and she was done being an architect of her own silence.
By Wednesday morning, a new rumor slithered through the school.
That Runo had enemies in high places.
That she was part of a secret political scandal.
That she was dating both Teni and Jelani and pitting them against each other.
That she had bribed her way onto the Scholar Panel.
She heard it all. And still, she walked through the halls with her chin up, lips set, eyes ahead.
Because the thing about surviving chaos is it teaches you how to walk straight through fire without flinching.
---
Classes dragged like slow water that day. The tension in Celestia Royale Academy had taken a new flavor: unease. Like everyone was holding their breath for the next blow.
At lunch, Runo didn’t go to the studio. She didn’t go to the almond tree. She didn’t even check in with Zara or her other roommates. Instead, she headed to the top floor of the library, where old archives and damaged books lived.
It was a forgotten corner of the school. Dusty. Quiet. Safe.
She curled into one of the faded leather chairs, hidden behind a column, and stared out the arched window. Her journal lay in her lap, but she couldn’t write. Not today.
Not when she felt like prey in a school full of predators.
She wasn’t alone for long.
“Found you.”
Teni’s voice cut through the silence, warm and smooth like always. He slid into the chair opposite her, a sandwich in one hand, a bottle of malt in the other.
“I brought food,” he said, holding it up. “Don’t make me beg you to eat.”
She cracked a small smile. “You’re relentless.”
“I’m consistent.”
Runo took the sandwich, more out of politeness than hunger. “You always know where to find me.”
“Correction: I know where people hide when they don’t want to be seen.”
“Insightful.”
He leaned back, studying her. “You okay?”
“No.”
“Good. You’re honest.”
She looked at him. “Why are you really here?”
Teni was quiet for a long moment. Then, “Because I’ve been here before. When people are gunning for you. When they want to crush you just to prove they can. I’ve been there.”
Runo frowned. “You? You’re Teni Ajibade.”
“And before I was Teni Ajibade, I was just the governor’s bastard son who transferred in from a public school after a scandal.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t know that.”
“Not many do. But you? You get it. You’ve got that survivor energy.”
They sat in silence again, the hum of the library’s old ceiling fan filling the gap.
Then he added, “Don’t let them break you, Runo.”
She nodded, quietly, and for the first time in days, something inside her loosened.
---
Later that evening, Celestia’s drama club held its first open rehearsal of the term in the outdoor amphitheater a tradition that allowed students to scout for roles and directors to assess potential.
Runo hadn’t planned on attending. But Zara dragged her there.
“You can’t just let them get into your head,” Zara said. “Come. Distraction helps. Or you’ll end up arguing with yourself in your sleep.”
The amphitheater was packed. Students sat on the grassy tiers, sipping soda and laughing as the club's president a senior named Ijeoma with fire-red braids introduced the scene.
Runo didn’t expect to feel anything.
Until Adanna walked on stage.
Dressed in black, voice smooth, eyes burning, Adanna commanded the space with a grace that made everyone fall silent. Her monologue was from Medea—a woman scorned, betrayed, choosing vengeance over peace.
By the time she finished, the audience erupted.
Runo sat frozen.
Zara whispered, “That girl was born for war.”
And Runo knew Adanna had chosen that scene on purpose.
A warning. A message. A declaration.
This wasn’t petty jealousy anymore.
This was warfare. Elite, subtle, psychological warfare.
And Runo had two choices: fold… or fight back.
---
Friday brought more fuel to the fire.
An anonymous newsletter began circulating through the student body.
"The Royale Report"
No author. No official approval. Just a single folded A4 sheet, printed in black and white, slipped into lockers and lunchboxes and library books.
The headline?
"Crown or Curse? The Runo Edevbie Effect."
It was smart. Vicious. Elegant.
It chronicled everything her arrival, the fencing match, the Scholar Panel nomination, the message on the wall.
It even quoted “a senior source” who claimed that Runo had threatened Adanna in the courtyard.
Lies.
But dangerous lies.
Because once the seed is planted, even fake truths grow roots.
Zara found the copy first and rushed to show her. “Runo. This is not just gossip. This is… planned.”
Runo read it slowly, carefully.
Then she folded it in half and tucked it into her bag.
“I need to know who wrote this.”
Zara looked nervous. “What will you do if you find out?”
Runo’s voice was soft but sure. “Hold them accountable.”
---
By nightfall, Celestia Royale Academy wasn’t just watching Runo they were waiting.
For her reaction.
For her breakdown.
For her retaliation.
And Runo?
She gave them silence.
Until the Scholar Panel’s Saturday assembly.
It was the perfect setting. Dozens of influential students. Teachers. Even a few alumni visiting for the upcoming Founders’ Banquet.
Runo dressed with care that morning pressed blazer, sleek hair, silver studs in her ears. Calm. Powerful. Unshaken.
The meeting started with budget talks.
Then security protocol.
Then an open-floor session.
That’s when she raised her hand.
Everyone turned.
“Yes, Miss Edevbie?” Ms. Dakari asked.
Runo stood.
“I’d like to propose an initiative,” she said. “A journalism society. A real one. With approval. Guidelines. Accountability. Because if we’re going to have free speech at Celestia, then we need to make sure truth matters.”
A low murmur rippled through the room.
Teni watched her with pride. Jelani’s pen stopped mid-sentence.
Adanna’s smile faltered.
Ms. Dakari blinked. “That’s… an interesting proposal.”
“I’ll draft a formal request,” Runo said. “With bylaws. Oversight. I can work with whoever you assign.”
She sat down.
And just like that, the room changed.
Because Runo hadn’t thrown a tantrum.
She’d played the system.
And made a power move.
---
That evening, she found a note in her locker.
No name. Just a single sentence, typed on cream paper.
“Clever girl. Let’s play.”
She folded it and smiled.
Let them come.
She was ready.
- Writer
