Chapter 3
1515 Words
Runo barely slept.
The buzz around her wasn’t fading it was growing louder. Like the hum before a thunderstorm, the air around her crackled with attention. In just under twenty-four hours, she had gone from a mysterious new student to the most talked-about girl in Celestia Royale Academy.
The girl who arrived in a Bentley.
The girl who shut down Teni Ajibade with one sentence.
The girl who walked like royalty but wore her silence like armor.
She hadn’t tried to impress anyone. She hadn’t even spoken more than a few full sentences to most of her classmates. But in Celestia, silence wasn’t invisibility. It was power.
They gave her a name one she hadn’t chosen but one she couldn’t shake: #RunoRoyale.
It started as a whisper between girls in the restroom, then a caption under a stolen picture someone took of her walking alone in the hallway. Now, it was a trend. Her name was a headline on the school's gossip blog and the subject of heated conversations in group chats she hadn’t been added to.
Even some of the teachers had changed how they looked at her. Not with suspicion, exactly, but with the wary curiosity reserved for students who might one day become either legends or cautionary tales.
Runo tried to stay focused on math equations, Shakespearean metaphors, Newton’s laws but the walls seemed to pulse with whispers.
Did you see the car she came in?
I heard her dad owns oil blocks.
No, I heard she got expelled from Queen’s Gate for fighting a teacher.
None of it was true. Or at least, not entirely. The truth was simpler, and heavier.
She had been hurt.
And now, she was healing. Carefully. Quietly.
Or so she hoped.
By second period, her name had already been mentioned three times during roll call not by the teachers, but by the students murmuring as they scanned the room, searching for her face. In Economics, a boy sitting behind her "accidentally" dropped his pencil for the third time just to get a closer look. In Physics, a note was passed across three desks just to land on hers. She didn’t open it.
Break time came like a relief. She didn’t go to the cafeteria. Instead, she carried her lunch and her battered copy of Things Fall Apart to the courtyard, seeking the solitude of the almond tree at the far end of the grounds. A quiet space. A safe place.
She sat down, tucking one leg beneath her, brushing invisible dust from her skirt. The tree offered both shade and a gentle breeze that played with the ends of her braids. For five minutes, the world melted away, replaced by Chinua Achebe’s tragic, powerful words.
Then
“Hey. Princess.”
Runo’s grip on the book tightened. She looked up, expression neutral.
It wasn’t Teni this time.
It was someone else.
Someone sharper.
Adanna Mbakwe.
If Teni was the prince of Celestia, Adanna was the queen who didn’t need a crown. Her beauty was magnetic—cocoa-brown skin that glowed like sunlit bronze, full lips painted in a soft, matte nude, and brows sculpted like they were designed with a ruler. She didn’t wear her uniform like everyone else. She wore it like it was custom-tailored. And somehow, it always looked better on her.
Adanna didn’t walk. She moved deliberately, gracefully, like she owned every step and every shadow that fell across it.
“You know,” Adanna said, folding her arms as she stared down at Runo, “I’ve been watching you.”
Runo looked her directly in the eye. “I noticed.”
Adanna tilted her head slightly, her braids catching the light. “I don’t like being surprised. And you surprised everyone.”
Runo gently closed her book and placed it beside her. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I’m just… living.”
Adanna’s mouth curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Living is expensive around here. Attention is a currency. You’re rich, Runo. But you’re spending too much of it.”
It wasn’t a compliment. It was a coded threat, delivered calmly.
Runo understood perfectly. She’d dealt with girls like Adanna before smooth voices, sharp words, and reputations that could slice you in half. The popular girls who ruled with charm and fear.
Before Runo could respond, a new voice slipped into the air, casual but firm.
“Adanna. Isn’t it a bit early for intimidation?”
They both turned.
Teni Ajibade.
He walked toward them, one hand in his pocket, the other holding an energy drink. Even the sunlight seemed to follow him. His tie was loosened, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows in a way that was more rebellious than lazy.
Adanna raised a brow. “She doesn’t need your protection.”
Teni chuckled. “Good. Because I’m not protecting her. I just like her vibe.”
He turned to Runo. “You want to join me for lunch?”
Runo glanced from Adanna to Teni. Adanna’s smile had vanished, replaced by something harder. There was a quiet battle happening between the two of them and now, she was caught in the middle.
“Sure,” Runo said, rising smoothly.
Adanna didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. Her eyes said everything.
And as she turned and walked away, her braids swayed with authority. She hadn’t lost. But she had been challenged.
---
The upper terrace overlooked the rest of the school like a throne room above a battlefield. Only a few students dared to eat there those with legacy names, political parents, or unshakable reputations. Teni belonged. Runo didn’t. Not yet.
But as she sat beside him, sipping juice and watching the courtyard below, she didn’t feel like an outsider. She felt… observed.
“So,” Teni said, peeling an orange. “Why Celestia? This place isn’t exactly known for mercy.”
Runo watched him hand her a slice. She accepted it.
“My parents thought I’d be safer here.”
“Safer?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Not smarter? Or richer?”
“I went to Queen’s Gate,” she said. “Before this.”
His expression changed. “I heard about that school. They were… rough on you?”
“‘Rough’ is one word for it,” she said, voice flat. “It wasn’t just bullying. It was survival.”
Teni leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs like a boy who never feared falling. “You don’t act like someone who’s been broken.”
“I’m not broken,” she said quietly. “Just… rebuilt.”
Teni grinned, his dimples flashing. “I like that.”
The sun moved behind a cloud, dimming the light. And with it, the mood shifted.
Because someone else was watching.
Jelani Dan Musa.
He stood a few meters away beneath the jacaranda trees, arms crossed. His face, dark and carved with intensity, was unreadable. He wore his silence like a cloak, and his gaze was sharp too sharp for a boy his age.
When his eyes met Runo’s, something passed between them. Not attraction. Not hostility. Something stranger.
Curiosity. Tension. Unresolved recognition.
Teni noticed.
He followed Runo’s gaze and sat forward, placing both legs firmly on the ground.
“That guy?” he said under his breath. “Be careful. Jelani plays chess like it’s war. And people? They’re not pieces. They’re targets.”
“I’m not scared of him.”
Teni exhaled. “You should be. Jelani doesn’t like competition. And right now… he thinks I’m competition.”
---
The moment everything shifted came during fencing class.
Every student at Celestia was required to learn at least one form of combat not just for sport, but for control. Fencing was the school’s favorite: elegant, precise, and quietly vicious.
The room smelled of metal and sweat. Fluorescent lights reflected off polished swords. Students stood in white gear, nerves buzzing.
The instructor, a former Commonwealth champion, announced the pairings.
When he read the final two names, the room went still.
“Teni Ajibade versus Jelani Dan Musa.”
Gasps. Whispers. A few students reached for their phones.
The two boys walked to the center mat without a word. No handshake. Just silence.
The match began.
Teni moved like a dancer quick feet, wild energy. Jelani, in contrast, was methodical, calm, a predator stalking prey with patience.
Clash. Parry. Lunge. Block.
Runo stood at the back, watching. She wasn’t cheering. She wasn’t afraid. But something in her chest tightened with every swing of the blade.
Then
“You always fight harder when she’s watching.”
Jelani’s voice sliced through the air.
Teni’s eyes narrowed. His next strike came fast too fast.
Jelani sidestepped.
Tap.
Point.
The room erupted.
Jelani’s smirk said everything. Teni’s clenched jaw said more.
Runo didn’t move. Her face was unreadable. But in her eyes? Fire.
Something had shifted.
She was no longer just the new girl with a mysterious past.
She was the storm they hadn’t expected.
And storms don’t bow to kings or queens. They change everything.
- Writer
