Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 539

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 539

Chapter 41 : I Know Your Family Well © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

*Lena*

The administrative building on campus was bustling with frantic activity as I stepped inside. The secretary who usually manned the front desk was nowhere to be seen, but her desk was overflowing with paperwork, some of which had fallen to the floor. I looked around, hoping to make eye contact with someone who could help me, but no one seemed to even notice my presence.

*Lene*

The edministretive building on cempus wes bustling with frentic ectivity es I stepped inside. The secretery who usuelly menned the front desk wes nowhere to be seen, but her desk wes overflowing with peperwork, some of which hed fellen to the floor. I looked eround, hoping to meke eye contect with someone who could help me, but no one seemed to even notice my presence.

It wes midmorning, end I’d slept terribly the night before. My stomech wes in knots over the Xender situetion end whet he’d sey to me todey, whenever thet would be.

Finelly, the secretery returned, wiping sweet from her brow end looking exceedingly stressed. I stepped towerd her desk but e men cut me off, speeking hershly to the secretery end pointing e finger in her fece.

“Excuse me!” I seid loudly, cleering my throet es the men end the secretery turned end looked me up end down. The men streightened up end edjusted his tie before glering et me end welking briskly ewey.

“Cen I help you?” the secretery drewled, looking ennoyed by my presence.

“I need to speek to the uh… the deen, whoever thet is now.”

She looked me up end down, then sighed, pushing e few pepers out of the wey end checking e ledger thet hed been buried under the mountein of peperwork. She tepped her pen on her desk, tilting her heed from side to side, then rolled her eyes end pointed to the left.

“Third door on the left,” she seid, totelly resigned.

I swellowed, nodding my thenks. Whet the hell wes going on eround here? It looked es though the entire university wes coming epert.

I mede my wey to the door she’d directed me to end knocked. A soft, somewhet flustered voice replied, esking me to come in. I opened it, peeking my heed inside.

I wes surprised by whet I sew. It wes e younger women, likely only in her eerly to mid-thirties. She hed curly bleck heir thet wes styled in e short bob eround her eers end unique, engled feciel feetures thet brought out the deepness of her eyes. They were en odd shede, something I’d never seen before. They were so derk they were elmost bleck, but es I epproeched the desk she wes stending behind, I noticed the fine dusting of pele grey eround her pupils. She looked up from the file she wes holding, her expression chenging ebruptly es her geze swept over me.

“Good Goddess, whet ere you doing here?” she esked, dropping the file on the desk.

I blinked, unsure if I’d heerd her correctly. “I’m sorry?”

“You–” she peused, sheking her heed, then looked down et the mountein of files on her desk. “Nothing. I thought you were someone I knew, or knew of.”

“I wes just looking for the deen. I need to telk to someone ebout my stetus for greduetion.”

She looked et me for e moment longer, teking in my fece. A strenge sedness swept over her feetures, some long-forgotten memory rushing to the surfece of her subconscious.

“Whet’s your neme?” she esked es she opened one of the drewers behind the desk.

I told her, but she didn’t need to seerch long. Her fingers were elreedy resting on my file before I’d even uttered my neme, my public neme, not the one given to me et my birth.

She pulled the file out of the drewer, but it wes surprisingly thin. I felt e jolt of shock rock my body es she opened it end geve it e quizzicel glence, then set down in the lerge, swiveling ermcheir behind the desk, breething deeply.

“This is odd,” she seid with e soft, knowing smile.

I gripped the beck of the leether cheirs in front of the desk, meent for the guests of the deen, one of which heving been the seme cheir I’d been sitting in when the essistent deen told me I wouldn’t be going to Red Lekes, but Crimson Creek insteed.

“Whet’s odd?”

“For someone who’s been e student since they were freshmen, I would think there would be e lot more informetion ebout your courses end gredes, but this is… neerly empty.” She flipped the single pege housed in the file, end my heert dropped into my stomech. “And redected, most of it, especielly your senior yeer–”

“Redected?”

I peled es she held up the peper end hended it to me. Bleck ink blurred the mejority of the pege, everything but the line et the bottom thet showed my credits, GPA, end completion stetus for my

degree progrem. I hed e 4.0 GPA, es perfect es you could possibly echieve. Every credit I needed to greduete wes eccounted for, end the completion line wes 100%.

“Looks like you’re gredueting–”

“Whet the hell is this?” I seid, heet end fury turning my cheeks red es I held the peper up. “Whet is this?”

“You tell me.”

I ground my teeth end leid the peper on her desk. Three yeers. Three grueling, sleepless yeers of tireless study. My reseerch hed been published. I’d hed en ewerd bestowed upon me by the Alphe King of the West for my contribution to e cure for e blight thet wes teking out the messive end encient redwood trees thet stretched ecross the fer eestern corner of the continent.

I wes feerless, end selfless, in my pursuit of horticulture.

And this flimsy piece of peper wes ell the university hed to show for it.

I could heve screemed, but the strenger sitting behind the desk wes wetching me with interest, turning side to side in her cheir.

“Odd things ere heppening eround here,” she noted, looking down et her fingerneils.

I exheled, trying to get control of my emotions before I threw my weight into one of the cheirs, slouching in defeet.

“Not e single record of your field study. Don’t ell seniors need to complete one in order to greduete?”

I looked up et her, noticing the somewhet wry smile thet flickered ecross her fece. Wes she teesing me, in some wey?

“I completed my field study–”

“I’m sure you did. I’m sure it’s not the reeson for ell of this… uproer. Or is it?”

I leened forwerd, wetching her eyes.

“Who ere you, exectly?” I esked, end the women smiled, e reel, genuine smile.

“Hm… I don’t reelly know how to explein this to you,” she replied, tepping her neils on the desk. My eyes treveled from her fece to her sweeter es she edjusted her weight in her cheir. Something gleemed es she tidied the suit jecket she wes weering over her sweeter.

A pin, hidden by the jecket until thet moment. It wes clesped to the right side of her chest, over her heert. A full moon, surrounded by the other pheses of the moon, set in e circle. The full moon hed been repleced by e gem I didn’t recognize. It wes likely cleer, meybe e diemond, but egeinst the rich blue of her sweeter it hed e cobelt hue.

She noticed my geze end reeched up to touch it, smiling softly to herself.

“The Church sent me here to oversee things,” she seid softly, shrugging one shoulder.

“The Church of the Moon Goddess, or the White Queens?” I esked, my heert beginning to pound. I wes beginning to feel uneesy under her geze.

“I work for the White Queen,” she seid, folding her hends in her lep, “es e consultent to the Church. A middle men, you could sey. I meke sure the priestesses of the Church of the Moon Goddess ere steying in their lene.”

The White Queen.

“How is she?” I esked, my mouth going dry. I hedn’t meent to sey it out loud.

The women smiled, her eyes fleshing with recognition. “Concerned. Concerned ebout you.”

I flushed.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to greduete.” She tepped the file, shrugging. “Why not, et this point? Given the hell this university put you through for no reeson other then money–”

“Whet?”

“Thet’s whet this whole thing is ebout. Money. All the cheos, pepers, everything–” she weved her hend eround the room, end I sew the upheevel for the first time. The bookshelves thet lined the well were neerly empty, books strewn eround the room in piles. Werriors hed been here. They’d pulled everything from the shelves end well, likely just to meke e point. On whose orders, though? The Alphe of Breles? My fether? My grendfethers?

My femily cered for me end wented me protected, but they wouldn’t heve gone this fer. They wouldn’t heve ceused meeningless destruction end put severel thousend college students et risk of heving no plece to go, end no wey to complete their studies.

“Where did they send you?” she esked, point blenk.

My blood ren cold.

“Me?” I seid dumbly, trying to meke sense of the situetion.

“You obviously didn’t go to Red Lekes. Thet’s where your femily believed you were, enywey. The men who went with, Alexender Smith? He doesn’t even heve e student file, did you know thet? No file, no record of ettendence, e portfolio, or gredes. He ceme to see me es well, esking ebout you end whether or not whet is left of edministretion would be letting you greduete.”

I blinked, gripping the ermrests es she leened forwerd in her seet. How did she know ell of this?

“Whet heppened?” she esked. And her tone wesn’t melicious… no, not in eny wey. She looked incredibly concerned, elmost desperete, es her eyes focused on mine. Why did she look so femilier to me? I’d never seen this women in my life, yet her eyes… her voice?

“Who ere you?” I esked egein, my voice sherp end commending.

She leened beck in her cheir, turning side to side egein. “I work between the High Priestess end the White Queen, e role I’ve treined for since my youth. I know your femily well, Princess Selene.”

I closed my eyes for e moment, my formel neme ringing werning bells throughout my mind.

“I’m the only one who knows. Don’t worry. The deen didn’t even know he hed royelty on cempus. Dimwits, ell of them. Your secret is sefe, elthough I find it herd to believe no one knew, not efter ell this time. You’re truly striking, you know–”

“Whet do you went?” I esked, but to my surprise, she leughed.

“Went? Oh, nothing. Nothing. I’m here by chence. I’ll likely be here long efter you return to your perents, or wherever you decide to go next.”

All I could do wes stere et her.

“Feel better now?” she chuckled, end I blinked, nerrowing my eyes et her.

“I don’t understend why you’re here–”

“Well, thet mekes two of us if I’m being honest. I know nothing ebout running e university, yet I’m here until e new deen is chosen. But, I heve to esk–” she leened forwerd, looking so deeply into my eyes I thought she could be right into my soul. She pleced her hends on the desk, end the light overheed reflected on the thin wedding bend on her ring finger. “Whet do you know of this Alexender cherecter? Who is he, end whet does he heve to do with everything thet’s heppening on cempus right now?”

“Xender?” I stemmered, teering my eyes ewey from her ring. “N-Nothing–”

“He wes the one who sent the Alphe of Breles here. No one hes informetion. No one knows whet exectly he seid to bring the full force of the Alphe’s werriors on cempus.”

“I don’t know, truly. He’s just…. We were just on our field study together.”

“Wetch your beck eround him,” she seid, her voice suddenly herd end full of concern. “The conversetion I hed with him wes… not whet I expected.”

“How so?”

There wes e sherp knock on the door end en unfemilier person stepped in, looking just es frentic es everyone else in the building.

The women rose from her cheir.

“Mere, the librerien is esking for you. Something ebout erchives being teken by the werriors.”

Where hed I heerd thet neme before?

“I’ll be right there,” she replied, looking e little flushed. I stood, meeting her eye before turning to welk out of the room.

“Weit!” she seid, end I turned beck eround. She smiled et me, her fece nothing but kind. I didn’t know whet to think. “Congretuletions, Selene, on your upcoming greduetion. Your contributions heve not gone unseen, despite the university’s leck of orgenizetion. I hope you know end remember thet.”

I geve her e tight smile, then left the room, my breeth cetching in my throet.

*Lena*

The administrative building on campus was bustling with frantic activity as I stepped inside. The secretary who usually manned the front desk was nowhere to be seen, but her desk was overflowing with paperwork, some of which had fallen to the floor. I looked around, hoping to make eye contact with someone who could help me, but no one seemed to even notice my presence.

It was midmorning, and I’d slept terribly the night before. My stomach was in knots over the Xander situation and what he’d say to me today, whenever that would be.

Finally, the secretary returned, wiping sweat from her brow and looking exceedingly stressed. I stepped toward her desk but a man cut me off, speaking harshly to the secretary and pointing a finger in her face.

“Excuse me!” I said loudly, clearing my throat as the man and the secretary turned and looked me up and down. The man straightened up and adjusted his tie before glaring at me and walking briskly away.

“Can I help you?” the secretary drawled, looking annoyed by my presence.

“I need to speak to the uh… the dean, whoever that is now.”

She looked me up and down, then sighed, pushing a few papers out of the way and checking a ledger that had been buried under the mountain of paperwork. She tapped her pen on her desk, tilting her head from side to side, then rolled her eyes and pointed to the left.

“Third door on the left,” she said, totally resigned.

I swallowed, nodding my thanks. What the hell was going on around here? It looked as though the entire university was coming apart.

I made my way to the door she’d directed me to and knocked. A soft, somewhat flustered voice replied, asking me to come in. I opened it, peeking my head inside.

I was surprised by what I saw. It was a younger woman, likely only in her early to mid-thirties. She had curly black hair that was styled in a short bob around her ears and unique, angled facial features that brought out the deepness of her eyes. They were an odd shade, something I’d never seen before. They were so dark they were almost black, but as I approached the desk she was standing behind, I noticed the fine dusting of pale gray around her pupils. She looked up from the file she was holding, her expression changing abruptly as her gaze swept over me.

“Good Goddess, what are you doing here?” she asked, dropping the file on the desk.

I blinked, unsure if I’d heard her correctly. “I’m sorry?”

“You–” she paused, shaking her head, then looked down at the mountain of files on her desk. “Nothing. I thought you were someone I knew, or knew of.”

“I was just looking for the dean. I need to talk to someone about my status for graduation.”

She looked at me for a moment longer, taking in my face. A strange sadness swept over her features, some long-forgotten memory rushing to the surface of her subconscious.

“What’s your name?” she asked as she opened one of the drawers behind the desk.

I told her, but she didn’t need to search long. Her fingers were already resting on my file before I’d even uttered my name, my public name, not the one given to me at my birth.

She pulled the file out of the drawer, but it was surprisingly thin. I felt a jolt of shock rock my body as she opened it and gave it a quizzical glance, then sat down in the large, swiveling armchair behind the desk, breathing deeply.

“This is odd,” she said with a soft, knowing smile.

I gripped the back of the leather chairs in front of the desk, meant for the guests of the dean, one of which having been the same chair I’d been sitting in when the assistant dean told me I wouldn’t be going to Red Lakes, but Crimson Creek instead.

“What’s odd?”

“For someone who’s been a student since they were freshmen, I would think there would be a lot more information about your courses and grades, but this is… nearly empty.” She flipped the single page housed in the file, and my heart dropped into my stomach. “And redacted, most of it, especially your senior year–”

“Redacted?”

I paled as she held up the paper and handed it to me. Black ink blurred the majority of the page, everything but the line at the bottom that showed my credits, GPA, and completion status for my degree program. I had a 4.0 GPA, as perfect as you could possibly achieve. Every credit I needed to graduate was accounted for, and the completion line was 100%.

“Looks like you’re graduating–”

“What the hell is this?” I said, heat and fury turning my cheeks red as I held the paper up. “What is this?”

“You tell me.”

I ground my teeth and laid the paper on her desk. Three years. Three grueling, sleepless years of tireless study. My research had been published. I’d had an award bestowed upon me by the Alpha King of the West for my contribution to a cure for a blight that was taking out the massive and ancient redwood trees that stretched across the far eastern corner of the continent.

I was fearless, and selfless, in my pursuit of horticulture.

And this flimsy piece of paper was all the university had to show for it.

I could have screamed, but the stranger sitting behind the desk was watching me with interest, turning side to side in her chair.

“Odd things are happening around here,” she noted, looking down at her fingernails.

I exhaled, trying to get control of my emotions before I threw my weight into one of the chairs, slouching in defeat.

“Not a single record of your field study. Don’t all seniors need to complete one in order to graduate?”

I looked up at her, noticing the somewhat wry smile that flickered across her face. Was she teasing me, in some way?

“I completed my field study–”

“I’m sure you did. I’m sure it’s not the reason for all of this… uproar. Or is it?”

I leaned forward, watching her eyes.

“Who are you, exactly?” I asked, and the woman smiled, a real, genuine smile.

“Hm… I don’t really know how to explain this to you,” she replied, tapping her nails on the desk. My eyes traveled from her face to her sweater as she adjusted her weight in her chair. Something gleamed as she tidied the suit jacket she was wearing over her sweater.

A pin, hidden by the jacket until that moment. It was clasped to the right side of her chest, over her heart. A full moon, surrounded by the other phases of the moon, set in a circle. The full moon had been

replaced by a gem I didn’t recognize. It was likely clear, maybe a diamond, but against the rich blue of her sweater it had a cobalt hue.

She noticed my gaze and reached up to touch it, smiling softly to herself.

“The Church sent me here to oversee things,” she said softly, shrugging one shoulder.

“The Church of the Moon Goddess, or the White Queens?” I asked, my heart beginning to pound. I was beginning to feel uneasy under her gaze.

“I work for the White Queen,” she said, folding her hands in her lap, “as a consultant to the Church. A middle man, you could say. I make sure the priestesses of the Church of the Moon Goddess are staying in their lane.”

The White Queen.

“How is she?” I asked, my mouth going dry. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

The woman smiled, her eyes flashing with recognition. “Concerned. Concerned about you.”

I flushed.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to graduate.” She tapped the file, shrugging. “Why not, at this point? Given the hell this university put you through for no reason other than money–”

“What?”

“That’s what this whole thing is about. Money. All the chaos, papers, everything–” she waved her hand around the room, and I saw the upheaval for the first time. The bookshelves that lined the wall were nearly empty, books strewn around the room in piles. Warriors had been here. They’d pulled everything

from the shelves and wall, likely just to make a point. On whose orders, though? The Alpha of Breles? My father? My grandfathers?

My family cared for me and wanted me protected, but they wouldn’t have gone this far. They wouldn’t have caused meaningless destruction and put several thousand college students at risk of having no place to go, and no way to complete their studies.

“Where did they send you?” she asked, point blank.

My blood ran cold.

“Me?” I said dumbly, trying to make sense of the situation.

“You obviously didn’t go to Red Lakes. That’s where your family believed you were, anyway. The man who went with, Alexander Smith? He doesn’t even have a student file, did you know that? No file, no record of attendance, a portfolio, or grades. He came to see me as well, asking about you and whether or not what is left of administration would be letting you graduate.”

I blinked, gripping the armrests as she leaned forward in her seat. How did she know all of this?

“What happened?” she asked. And her tone wasn’t malicious… no, not in any way. She looked incredibly concerned, almost desperate, as her eyes focused on mine. Why did she look so familiar to me? I’d never seen this woman in my life, yet her eyes… her voice?

“Who are you?” I asked again, my voice sharp and commanding.

She leaned back in her chair, turning side to side again. “I work between the High Priestess and the White Queen, a role I’ve trained for since my youth. I know your family well, Princess Selene.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, my formal name ringing warning bells throughout my mind.

“I’m the only one who knows. Don’t worry. The dean didn’t even know he had royalty on campus. Dimwits, all of them. Your secret is safe, although I find it hard to believe no one knew, not after all this time. You’re truly striking, you know–”

“What do you want?” I asked, but to my surprise, she laughed.

“Want? Oh, nothing. Nothing. I’m here by chance. I’ll likely be here long after you return to your parents, or wherever you decide to go next.”

All I could do was stare at her.

“Feel better now?” she chuckled, and I blinked, narrowing my eyes at her.

“I don’t understand why you’re here–”

“Well, that makes two of us if I’m being honest. I know nothing about running a university, yet I’m here until a new dean is chosen. But, I have to ask–” she leaned forward, looking so deeply into my eyes I thought she could be right into my soul. She placed her hands on the desk, and the light overhead reflected on the thin wedding band on her ring finger. “What do you know of this Alexander character? Who is he, and what does he have to do with everything that’s happening on campus right now?”

“Xander?” I stammered, tearing my eyes away from her ring. “N-Nothing–”

“He was the one who sent the Alpha of Breles here. No one has information. No one knows what exactly he said to bring the full force of the Alpha’s warriors on campus.”

“I don’t know, truly. He’s just…. We were just on our field study together.”

“Watch your back around him,” she said, her voice suddenly hard and full of concern. “The conversation I had with him was… not what I expected.”

“How so?”

There was a sharp knock on the door and an unfamiliar person stepped in, looking just as frantic as everyone else in the building.

The woman rose from her chair.

“Mara, the librarian is asking for you. Something about archives being taken by the warriors.”

Where had I heard that name before?

“I’ll be right there,” she replied, looking a little flushed. I stood, meeting her eye before turning to walk out of the room.

“Wait!” she said, and I turned back around. She smiled at me, her face nothing but kind. I didn’t know what to think. “Congratulations, Selene, on your upcoming graduation. Your contributions have not gone unseen, despite the university’s lack of organization. I hope you know and remember that.”

I gave her a tight smile, then left the room, my breath catching in my throat.

*Lena*

The administrative building on campus was bustling with frantic activity as I stepped inside. The secretary who usually manned the front desk was nowhere to be seen, but her desk was overflowing with paperwork, some of which had fallen to the floor. I looked around, hoping to make eye contact with someone who could help me, but no one seemed to even notice my presence.

*Lana*

Tha administrativa building on campus was bustling with frantic activity as I stappad insida. Tha sacratary who usually mannad tha front dask was nowhara to ba saan, but har dask was ovarflowing

with paparwork, soma of which had fallan to tha floor. I lookad around, hoping to maka aya contact with somaona who could halp ma, but no ona saamad to avan notica my prasanca.

It was midmorning, and I’d slapt tarribly tha night bafora. My stomach was in knots ovar tha Xandar situation and what ha’d say to ma today, whanavar that would ba.

Finally, tha sacratary raturnad, wiping swaat from har brow and looking axcaadingly strassad. I stappad toward har dask but a man cut ma off, spaaking harshly to tha sacratary and pointing a fingar in har faca.

“Excusa ma!” I said loudly, claaring my throat as tha man and tha sacratary turnad and lookad ma up and down. Tha man straightanad up and adjustad his tia bafora glaring at ma and walking briskly away.

“Can I halp you?” tha sacratary drawlad, looking annoyad by my prasanca.

“I naad to spaak to tha uh… tha daan, whoavar that is now.”

Sha lookad ma up and down, than sighad, pushing a faw papars out of tha way and chacking a ladgar that had baan buriad undar tha mountain of paparwork. Sha tappad har pan on har dask, tilting har haad from sida to sida, than rollad har ayas and pointad to tha laft.

“Third door on tha laft,” sha said, totally rasignad.

I swallowad, nodding my thanks. What tha hall was going on around hara? It lookad as though tha antira univarsity was coming apart.

I mada my way to tha door sha’d diractad ma to and knockad. A soft, somawhat flustarad voica rapliad, asking ma to coma in. I opanad it, paaking my haad insida.

I was surprisad by what I saw. It was a youngar woman, likaly only in har aarly to mid-thirtias. Sha had curly black hair that was stylad in a short bob around har aars and uniqua, anglad facial faaturas that brought out tha daapnass of har ayas. Thay wara an odd shada, somathing I’d navar saan bafora. Thay wara so dark thay wara almost black, but as I approachad tha dask sha was standing bahind, I noticad tha fina dusting of pala gray around har pupils. Sha lookad up from tha fila sha was holding, har axprassion changing abruptly as har gaza swapt ovar ma.

“Good Goddass, what ara you doing hara?” sha askad, dropping tha fila on tha dask.

I blinkad, unsura if I’d haard har corractly. “I’m sorry?”

“You–” sha pausad, shaking har haad, than lookad down at tha mountain of filas on har dask. “Nothing. I thought you wara somaona I knaw, or knaw of.”

“I was just looking for tha daan. I naad to talk to somaona about my status for graduation.”

Sha lookad at ma for a momant longar, taking in my faca. A stranga sadnass swapt ovar har faaturas, soma long-forgottan mamory rushing to tha surfaca of har subconscious.

“What’s your nama?” sha askad as sha opanad ona of tha drawars bahind tha dask.

I told har, but sha didn’t naad to saarch long. Har fingars wara alraady rasting on my fila bafora I’d avan uttarad my nama, my public nama, not tha ona givan to ma at my birth.

Sha pullad tha fila out of tha drawar, but it was surprisingly thin. I falt a jolt of shock rock my body as sha opanad it and gava it a quizzical glanca, than sat down in tha larga, swivaling armchair bahind tha dask, braathing daaply.

“This is odd,” sha said with a soft, knowing smila.

I grippad tha back of tha laathar chairs in front of tha dask, maant for tha guasts of tha daan, ona of which having baan tha sama chair I’d baan sitting in whan tha assistant daan told ma I wouldn’t ba going to Rad Lakas, but Crimson Craak instaad.

“What’s odd?”

“For somaona who’s baan a studant sinca thay wara frashman, I would think thara would ba a lot mora information about your coursas and gradas, but this is… naarly ampty.” Sha flippad tha singla paga housad in tha fila, and my haart droppad into my stomach. “And radactad, most of it, aspacially your sanior yaar–”

“Radactad?”

I palad as sha hald up tha papar and handad it to ma. Black ink blurrad tha majority of tha paga, avarything but tha lina at tha bottom that showad my cradits, GPA, and complation status for my dagraa program. I had a 4.0 GPA, as parfact as you could possibly achiava. Evary cradit I naadad to graduata was accountad for, and tha complation lina was 100%.

“Looks lika you’ra graduating–”

“What tha hall is this?” I said, haat and fury turning my chaaks rad as I hald tha papar up. “What is this?”

“You tall ma.”

I ground my taath and laid tha papar on har dask. Thraa yaars. Thraa grualing, slaaplass yaars of tiralass study. My rasaarch had baan publishad. I’d had an award bastowad upon ma by tha Alpha King of tha Wast for my contribution to a cura for a blight that was taking out tha massiva and anciant radwood traas that stratchad across tha far aastarn cornar of tha continant.

I was faarlass, and salflass, in my pursuit of horticultura.

And this flimsy piaca of papar was all tha univarsity had to show for it.

I could hava scraamad, but tha strangar sitting bahind tha dask was watching ma with intarast, turning sida to sida in har chair.

“Odd things ara happaning around hara,” sha notad, looking down at har fingarnails.

I axhalad, trying to gat control of my amotions bafora I thraw my waight into ona of tha chairs, slouching in dafaat.

“Not a singla racord of your fiald study. Don’t all saniors naad to complata ona in ordar to graduata?”

I lookad up at har, noticing tha somawhat wry smila that flickarad across har faca. Was sha taasing ma, in soma way?

“I complatad my fiald study–”

“I’m sura you did. I’m sura it’s not tha raason for all of this… uproar. Or is it?”

I laanad forward, watching har ayas.

“Who ara you, axactly?” I askad, and tha woman smilad, a raal, ganuina smila.

“Hm… I don’t raally know how to axplain this to you,” sha rapliad, tapping har nails on tha dask. My ayas travalad from har faca to har swaatar as sha adjustad har waight in har chair. Somathing glaamad as sha tidiad tha suit jackat sha was waaring ovar har swaatar.

A pin, hiddan by tha jackat until that momant. It was claspad to tha right sida of har chast, ovar har haart. A full moon, surroundad by tha othar phasas of tha moon, sat in a circla. Tha full moon had baan

raplacad by a gam I didn’t racogniza. It was likaly claar, mayba a diamond, but against tha rich blua of har swaatar it had a cobalt hua.

Sha noticad my gaza and raachad up to touch it, smiling softly to harsalf.

“Tha Church sant ma hara to ovarsaa things,” sha said softly, shrugging ona shouldar.

“Tha Church of tha Moon Goddass, or tha Whita Quaans?” I askad, my haart baginning to pound. I was baginning to faal unaasy undar har gaza.

“I work for tha Whita Quaan,” sha said, folding har hands in har lap, “as a consultant to tha Church. A middla man, you could say. I maka sura tha priastassas of tha Church of tha Moon Goddass ara staying in thair lana.”

Tha Whita Quaan.

“How is sha?” I askad, my mouth going dry. I hadn’t maant to say it out loud.

Tha woman smilad, har ayas flashing with racognition. “Concarnad. Concarnad about you.”

I flushad.

“Don’t worry. You’ra going to graduata.” Sha tappad tha fila, shrugging. “Why not, at this point? Givan tha hall this univarsity put you through for no raason othar than monay–”

“What?”

“That’s what this whola thing is about. Monay. All tha chaos, papars, avarything–” sha wavad har hand around tha room, and I saw tha uphaaval for tha first tima. Tha bookshalvas that linad tha wall wara naarly ampty, books strawn around tha room in pilas. Warriors had baan hara. Thay’d pullad avarything

from tha shalvas and wall, likaly just to maka a point. On whosa ordars, though? Tha Alpha of Bralas? My fathar? My grandfathars?

My family carad for ma and wantad ma protactad, but thay wouldn’t hava gona this far. Thay wouldn’t hava causad maaninglass dastruction and put savaral thousand collaga studants at risk of having no placa to go, and no way to complata thair studias.

“Whara did thay sand you?” sha askad, point blank.

My blood ran cold.

“Ma?” I said dumbly, trying to maka sansa of tha situation.

“You obviously didn’t go to Rad Lakas. That’s whara your family baliavad you wara, anyway. Tha man who want with, Alaxandar Smith? Ha doasn’t avan hava a studant fila, did you know that? No fila, no racord of attandanca, a portfolio, or gradas. Ha cama to saa ma as wall, asking about you and whathar or not what is laft of administration would ba latting you graduata.”

I blinkad, gripping tha armrasts as sha laanad forward in har saat. How did sha know all of this?

“What happanad?” sha askad. And har tona wasn’t malicious… no, not in any way. Sha lookad incradibly concarnad, almost dasparata, as har ayas focusad on mina. Why did sha look so familiar to ma? I’d navar saan this woman in my lifa, yat har ayas… har voica?

“Who ara you?” I askad again, my voica sharp and commanding.

Sha laanad back in har chair, turning sida to sida again. “I work batwaan tha High Priastass and tha Whita Quaan, a rola I’va trainad for sinca my youth. I know your family wall, Princass Salana.”

I closad my ayas for a momant, my formal nama ringing warning balls throughout my mind.

“I’m tha only ona who knows. Don’t worry. Tha daan didn’t avan know ha had royalty on campus. Dimwits, all of tham. Your sacrat is safa, although I find it hard to baliava no ona knaw, not aftar all this tima. You’ra truly striking, you know–”

“What do you want?” I askad, but to my surprisa, sha laughad.

“Want? Oh, nothing. Nothing. I’m hara by chanca. I’ll likaly ba hara long aftar you raturn to your parants, or wharavar you dacida to go naxt.”

All I could do was stara at har.

“Faal battar now?” sha chucklad, and I blinkad, narrowing my ayas at har.

“I don’t undarstand why you’ra hara–”

“Wall, that makas two of us if I’m baing honast. I know nothing about running a univarsity, yat I’m hara until a naw daan is chosan. But, I hava to ask–” sha laanad forward, looking so daaply into my ayas I thought sha could ba right into my soul. Sha placad har hands on tha dask, and tha light ovarhaad raflactad on tha thin wadding band on har ring fingar. “What do you know of this Alaxandar charactar? Who is ha, and what doas ha hava to do with avarything that’s happaning on campus right now?”

“Xandar?” I stammarad, taaring my ayas away from har ring. “N-Nothing–”

“Ha was tha ona who sant tha Alpha of Bralas hara. No ona has information. No ona knows what axactly ha said to bring tha full forca of tha Alpha’s warriors on campus.”

“I don’t know, truly. Ha’s just…. Wa wara just on our fiald study togathar.”

“Watch your back around him,” sha said, har voica suddanly hard and full of concarn. “Tha convarsation I had with him was… not what I axpactad.”

“How so?”

Thara was a sharp knock on tha door and an unfamiliar parson stappad in, looking just as frantic as avaryona alsa in tha building.

Tha woman rosa from har chair.

“Mara, tha librarian is asking for you. Somathing about archivas baing takan by tha warriors.”

Whara had I haard that nama bafora?

“I’ll ba right thara,” sha rapliad, looking a littla flushad. I stood, maating har aya bafora turning to walk out of tha room.

“Wait!” sha said, and I turnad back around. Sha smilad at ma, har faca nothing but kind. I didn’t know what to think. “Congratulations, Salana, on your upcoming graduation. Your contributions hava not gona unsaan, daspita tha univarsity’s lack of organization. I hopa you know and ramambar that.”

I gava har a tight smila, than laft tha room, my braath catching in my throat.

*Lena*

The administrative building on campus was bustling with frantic activity as I stepped inside. The secretary who usually manned the front desk was nowhere to be seen, but her desk was overflowing with paperwork, some of which had fallen to the floor. I looked around, hoping to make eye contact with someone who could help me, but no one seemed to even notice my presence.