Luna was escorted to the infirmary, where a woman in a crisp white uniform examined her. She'd gotten off lucky — just a few scratches along her forearm and one ugly bruise blooming on her ribs.
"I'm Nurse Ella," the woman said as she reached for disinfectant. Her hands were gentle despite the sting. "And you are?"
"Luna," she replied, wincing. "Luna Percival."
Ella's mouth softened. "Luna... Pretty name. Suits you." Then she frowned at the bruise. "How'd you get these scratches, Miss Luna? And that nasty bruise?"
Luna hesitated. "Horse riding class," she said carefully. "The horse... threw me."
Ella clicked her tongue but didn't press. She was like that with everyone — noble, scholar, or servant. The infirmary didn't care about houses or titles. She just dabbed disinfectant on the cuts. It stung like fire.
"To prevent infection," Ella said, not unkindly. "And try not to anger any more horses, dear. My supply of antiseptic isn't endless."
Luna managed a weak smile. "I'll do my best, Nurse Ella."
As soon as the door shut, Mara slipped inside.
"Luna, are you okay?" Her voice cracked.
"Yes. I'm fine." Luna flexed her fingers. They still shook.
"Why did the horse go berserk?" Mara whispered, glancing at the door. "They're trained not to—"
"It didn't." Luna's jaw tightened. "Something — or _someone_ — triggered it. And I know who."
Mara gasped, hand flying to her mouth. "Don't tell me it was Evelyn."
"Bingo."
"She went too far," Mara hissed. "Too far even for her."
"Tell me everything you know about Evelyn." Luna sat up, ignoring the pull of her scratches.
"Why?" Mara blinked.
"So I know what I'm up against."
Mara hesitated. Then she leaned in, voice low. "Evelyn. House Sapphire. Third daughter of Duke Valmont. She hates getting dirty, lives for attention, and her biggest dream? Marrying Sterling before graduation. She's in room 102, Sapphire dorm. East wing. Lady Grace inspects it every morning at six sharp."
Luna's eyes narrowed. "Weaknesses."
"She's terrified of worms," Mara admitted. "Saw her scream at the gardeners last spring. Full meltdown. And she's obsessive about inspections. Lady Grace gives demerits for _anything_ out of place."
Luna smiled. "Got it."
---
After school, Luna was finally cleared to leave the infirmary. She went to the dormitory, scrubbed the horse and disinfectant off her skin, and changed.
Later that evening, she and Mara claimed a corner table in the common room for a study session. They spread out textbooks like a fortress. People kept staring. Whispers followed them like smoke — nobles in silk, scholars in pressed uniforms, all pretending not to look while they very much did.
Mara's pen snapped between her fingers. "Maybe we should go back to the dorm," she muttered. "They're gossiping because I'm charity and you're... you." She swallowed. "A noble studying with me. They think you're slumming it. Or that I'm using you."
Luna didn't look up from her notes. She turned a page, calm. "Let them stare." Her voice was steady. "Let them whisper. I'm not ashamed to sit with my friend, Mara. And if they have a problem with a Percival and a scholarship student sharing a table, that's _their_ disgrace. Not ours."
Mara's eyes widened. "But—"
"No buts." Luna finally met her gaze, then tapped the history text between them. "Now. What do you think about the Great Civil War of Aldean? Specifically King Damon's tactical blunder at Redmoor."
Mara blinked. Then, slowly, she exhaled. A real smile broke through. "I think he should've burned the bridge before the siege, not after."
Luna's lips quirked. "Good. Now you're thinking. Let's tear this chapter apart before I set the book on fire."
---
The next day, the rumors hit before breakfast.
Mara slid into the seat beside Luna, eyes gleaming. "You hear about Evelyn?"
Luna sipped her tea. "Enlighten me."
"Worms. Under her pillow. In room 102. During Lady Grace's inspection." Mara was barely containing a grin. "Three demerits. House Sapphire is _fuming_."
Luna scoffed into her cup. "Serves her right."
Unknown to all, the worms were Luna's.
Mara's intel: _Terrified of worms. Room 102. Six AM inspection._ So Luna had raided the lake bank at dusk, mud squelching between her fingers as she caught three fat, wriggling ones. She'd stolen a porter's cap from the laundry, kept her head down, and slipped into Sapphire dorm, East wing, during the 5:30 shift change. Room 102. One lift of Evelyn's pillow. One quick drop.
The demerits were just a bonus. The scream that had echoed from room 102 at dawn? That was the prize.
---
Later, Luna saw the notice on the board: _Math Club — New Members Welcome._
She signed up before she could second-guess herself. Numbers didn't lie. Numbers didn't sabotage horses.
But when she pushed open the door to the West Library — all mahogany and stained glass, the official meeting place for the Math Club — she got the biggest shock of her life.
Sterling. Leaning against the head table, a calculus text open in one hand. President's pin glinting on his blazer.
"And what are _you_ doing here?" drawled one of his sycophants, a boy with a sneer and House Emerald crest.
Luna lifted her chin. "I'm here to sign up."
"Well, you have to be approved by our president." He smirked, jerking his thumb at Sterling.
Luna crossed the room, her footsteps loud on the marble. "I'm here to apply for the club."
Sterling didn't look up from his book. "Application denied."
Luna froze. "What?"
"Application denied," he repeated, turning a page. His voice was bored. Final.
Heat flooded her face. "This is unfair. I'm going to report this to the student council. School rules state every student has the right to join any club if they meet the criteria."
Sterling finally looked up. His ice-blue eyes raked over her like she was a smudge on his textbook. He rolled his eyes.
"Fine. You can join... if." He paused, letting the word hang.
Luna's nails bit into her palms. "If _what_?"
"If you beat me in the upcoming midterms." A smirk touched his mouth. "But let's raise the stakes, _maid_."
Her vision went red. "You know I'm not a maid, you jerk."
"Semantics." He closed his book with a snap. "Here's the deal. If I win, you're banned from this club forever. If _you_ win..." He tilted his head. "Well. What do you want?"
Luna's heart hammered. Then she smiled, slow and sharp. "If I beat you, I don't just join. I become president."
The room went silent.
Sterling's smirk froze. Then, slowly, it returned — colder. "Deal."
Luna extended her hand. "Shall we shake on it?"
Sterling glanced at her hand like it was something dragged in from the stables. "I don't shake hands with the likes of you."
*Her hand hung in the air for a heartbeat. Then she lowered it, slowly. Her smile didn't waver. "Rude jerk."*
His eyes flashed. For a second, she thought she'd pushed too far.
Then he stood, towering over her. "The battle's just begun, then."
Luna met his gaze without flinching. "Good. Because when I start a battle of the brain, I'm out for blood."
And Luna Percival _never_ lost.