Chapter 11: Under Royal Protection

"She’s alive?"

The voice cut through the darkness first, sharp with disbelief.

"Her pulse is steady," a second voice said, quieter, uncertain. "I don’t understand it."

"She fell from the third floor."

"I know what floor she fell from."

The healer’s voice carried a kind of confusion that didn’t belong in an infirmary, the sound of someone staring at something that shouldn’t exist.

Roxanne floated somewhere beneath all of it, pain arriving in slow waves before her mind caught up to where she was.

Her head throbbed. Her whole body felt weighted down, heavy in a way that made even breathing feel like effort.

She opened her eyes to a white, unfamiliar ceiling.

For a few seconds, nothing made sense.

Then it came back all at once. Arabella’s face above her. Fingers prying hers off the railing one by one. The sky rushing past.

Roxanne bolted upright. "Arabella—"

"Easy," the healer said, hands already on her shoulders, gently pressing her back down. "You’re safe. You’re in the academy infirmary."

"How long was I unconscious?"

"A few hours."

Roxanne stared at her own hands, half expecting them to be broken. They weren’t.

The healer examined her again, checking her pulse, her eyes, running careful fingers along her ribs. Bruising along her shoulder. A few scratches on her arms. A dull ache behind her eyes.

Nothing else.

The healer frowned, checking a second time like she didn’t trust the first result. "No fractures. No internal bleeding. Nothing consistent with a fall of that height."

"I did fall," Roxanne said. "From the third floor."

"I know that’s what happened," the healer said slowly, studying her with an expression that made Roxanne uncomfortable. "I’m simply telling you what I’m finding. Or not finding."

Roxanne didn’t have an explanation either.

"Is Arabella okay?" she asked.

The healer hesitated. "She’s being treated in another room."

"I need to see her."

"That’s not possible right now."

"She pushed me," Roxanne said, her voice rising. "She’s the reason I fell."

The healer’s expression didn’t change, but something in her posture stiffened. "The academy is already looking into the incident."

A few minutes later, once Roxanne was sitting upright, a tall man in academy robes entered, his expression grave in a way that made her stomach twist before he even spoke.

"There was an incident," he said.

"It wasn’t an accident," Roxanne said immediately.

He studied her for a long moment. "Arabella Voss says you attacked her."

The words hit like ice water.

"That’s a lie."

He continued anyway, laying out Arabella’s account with clinical detachment. Roxanne had confronted her. Grown angry. Grabbed her. They’d struggled near the balcony. Roxanne lost her balance. Arabella tried to catch her. Roxanne fell anyway.

"She’s lying," Roxanne said, disbelief cracking her voice. "She pushed me. She grabbed my hands off the railing."

"Arabella has visible injuries," he said. "Bruising on her arms. Scratches. A split lip. Torn clothing."

Roxanne’s stomach dropped as understanding settled in. Their struggle, the grabbing, the shoving, all of it had left marks on both of them. But only Arabella had walked away looking like a victim.

"She hurt herself on purpose," Roxanne said. "Or she made it look that way."

"Why would she push you?"

Roxanne opened her mouth and found nothing that would sound reasonable to a stranger. Jealousy over the Moonstones. Old resentment over a boyfriend who’d cheated in the first place. None of it painted a picture anyone in this room would believe.

The door opened again, and Dorian walked in.

Roxanne’s chest tightened before she could stop it.

He didn’t even glance her way. He went straight to where Arabella must have been resting, his expression already arranged into concern.

"What happened?" he asked, loud enough for Roxanne to hear.

"She tried to stop me from getting hurt," Arabella’s voice answered from somewhere out of sight, thin and trembling. "Roxanne wouldn’t calm down."

Dorian believed her instantly. Roxanne could see it in the set of his shoulders.

He finally turned to face her. "This has gone too far, Roxanne. Why would you attack her?"

"I didn’t."

"She’s terrified."

"So was I," Roxanne said, "when I was falling."

The room went quiet.

Dorian’s jaw tightened, but no apology came. "You need to take responsibility for this."

Roxanne looked at him and felt something settle coldly in his chest. There was nothing left here worth fighting for.

The hearing happened faster than she expected. Within the hour, she was standing before a small panel of academy authorities in a formal chamber, Arabella seated beside Dorian, fragile and small in her chair.

The principal presided, expression unreadable.

The authority laid out the accusations again. Roxanne gave her account, insisting Arabella had pushed her from the balcony.

No witnesses came forward. Nobody had seen the actual moment. All they had was Arabella’s version, and Arabella’s injuries.

"Ms. Silver’s actions constitute a serious violation," the principal finally said. "She attacked a fellow student and endangered her life. This academy cannot tolerate that kind of behavior, regardless of circumstance."

He looked at Roxanne. "Do you have anything else to say?"

She looked at Arabella. Arabella looked back with carefully arranged sadness.

"I didn’t do it," Roxanne said.

That was all she had left to give.

"Roxanne Silver," the principal said, "is hereby expelled from the academy."

The room went utterly silent.

Roxanne felt the floor drop out from under her all over again, the same sensation as falling, except this time there was no railing to catch, nothing at all to hold onto.

Yesterday she’d finally believed she belonged somewhere.

Dorian’s shoulders relaxed with visible relief.

Arabella lowered her head, the picture of quiet suffering.

But Roxanne caught it. The barest curve at the corner of her mouth. Not sadness. Not guilt.

Victory.

Roxanne stared at her, seeing clearly, for the first time, exactly who her former best friend had become.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg.

"I hope you’re happy," she said quietly.

Arabella’s smile deepened.

Roxanne turned to leave, her legs unsteady beneath her.

Then the doors slammed open.

Four figures walked through them, and the entire room shifted instantly, authorities straightening, students who’d gathered outside falling silent.

Lucien. Roshan. Liam. Kai.

Roxanne froze, confused. She had no idea why they were here.

Liam’s usual grin was gone entirely, his jaw tight. Kai’s expression was something close to fury. Roshan’s eyes were ice cold, sweeping the room like he was cataloguing every person’s guilt.

Lucien’s gaze moved across the chamber, past the principal, past Arabella, past Dorian.

It settled on Roxanne.

"Why are the Moonstones interrupting an academy proceeding?" the principal asked, his composure cracking for the first time.

Lucien didn’t answer immediately. He looked down at the expulsion papers on the table, then back at Roxanne, then finally at Arabella.

"You’re expelling her?"

"The evidence is sufficient," the principal said.

"Sufficient," Roshan repeated flatly. "Based entirely on the account of the person she accused of pushing her."

"No one investigated the balcony properly," Liam added, voice sharp with something that wasn’t playful at all.

"She’s being punished before the investigation is even complete," Kai said.

The room’s tension climbed with every word.

The principal straightened, regaining some authority. "This is academy business."

Lucien stepped forward, and when he spoke, his voice had gone cold enough to silence every whisper in the chamber.

"Not anymore."

Nobody moved.

"What does that mean?" the principal asked.

Lucien’s eyes stayed fixed on Roxanne, steady, unwavering, absolute.

"Roxanne Silver is under royal protection."