The Royal Academy's swimming area was like something out of a dream. The pool, with its perfect lane ropes and immaculate markings, looked like it belonged in the Olympics. The bleachers were grand, and the entire space exuded an aura of luxury and precision. Everything about it was stunning, and yet, Anne-Marie could barely appreciate any of it through the fog of nerves that gripped her.

She should have stayed in the classroom. Every step she took closer to the pool felt like a mistake. Aubrey and Noa had convinced her to come, but deep down, she knew it was a bad idea. She was a terrible swimmer—no, worse than terrible. She couldn't swim at all, not even to save her life. The water terrified her, a fear that clutched at her chest and tightened with every breath. Just the thought of being near the pool made her dizzy with panic.

You don't have to get in the water, Anne-Marie,
she told herself, trying to calm her racing heart.
Everyone will expect you to, but you don't have to. No one can make you if you don't want to.

She clung to that thought like a lifeline. No one could make her do anything, especially not after everything Paris had been through. Surely, they would understand if she chose to sit this one out. She was still in recovery, after all.

Anne-Marie lingered at the back of the group as they walked into the pool area, staying as far from the water as she could. Her eyes darted around nervously, taking in the few classmates who were already seated on the lower bleachers. Her gaze drifted toward the far side of the pool, where Aiden and his friends sat, surrounded by palace guards. Harry was, as usual, engrossed in his phone, while Asher seemed equally distracted. But Aiden... Aiden was staring at her. His gaze was intense, and she could feel it even from across the room.

"Such show stealers," Noa muttered under her breath as they came to a stop at the edge of the pool, where they had a better view of the trio. She folded her arms, mirroring Aubrey's stance beside her.

"They're just so perfect, I'm jealous," Aubrey sighed as she slowly bent down to remove her swimming sandals. Anne-Marie's eyes followed the movement, her attention catching on a small, faded surgical scar on Aubrey's foot.

"Does it still hurt?" Anne-Marie asked softly, her voice tinged with concern.

Aubrey glanced up, momentarily surprised by the question, then looked back down at her foot. She turned it slightly, examining the scar as if noticing it for the first time in a long while.

"This?" Aubrey brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and shook her head with a small smile. "Not at all. I forget it's even there most of the time."

Anne-Marie exhaled weakly, her anxiety momentarily eased by Aubrey's casual response.

"I have to admit, Bre looks kind of nice with her new hairdo," Harry remarked, raising a hand to wave at them.

"Tsk," Asher shrugged dismissively, not lifting his eyes from his phone. "I think brown and curly suited her better."

"Really?" Harry narrowed his gaze, still observing the girls. He turned to Aiden. "What do you think, Your Highness?"

Aiden let out a slow breath, pushing himself deeper into his seat. He hadn't noticed Aubrey's makeover—he hadn't noticed anything other than Anne-Marie. There was something about her that nagged at him, something he couldn't quite place. But whatever it was, it gnawed at him, making him stare longer than he should have. When he realized he might have been staring too much, he quickly looked away, forcing his attention elsewhere.

"Just look at that," Aubrey nudged Anne-Marie's shoulder playfully. "The prince can't seem to keep his eyes off you. Ever since you took that bullet for him, it feels like he's finally softening up to you."

"Or maybe he just wishes she had died in that shooting," Noa quipped, her tone sharp as she turned off her phone's screen and lowered it from her gaze.

"Noa," Aubrey chided, her voice stern.

"What?" Noa scoffed. "It's a dark joke, Bre. Relax, Paris gets it."

Anne-Marie forced a smile, trying to play along, but before she could respond, a voice cut through the air, freezing her in place.

"Well, well, well," a voice drawled, dripping with condescension. "Look who decided to show up again on the first day of school."

"You have got to be kidding me," Noa muttered, rolling her eyes along with Aubrey. They didn't even need to turn around to know who it was, but Anne-Marie did. She turned first, meeting the gaze of a tall, pale-skinned girl with piercing eyes and a smirk that sent a chill down her spine.

The girl was striking, with an undeniable beauty that was marred by the arrogance in her stance. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, and her eyes raked over Anne-Marie as if she were assessing a piece of meat.

"Paris Vutron," the girl said, her voice dripping with mockery.

Anne-Marie swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Who was this girl, and what was her connection to Paris? Whoever she was, it was clear from the look in her eyes that she and Paris were anything but friends.

"So the rumors are true, then, You beat death," the girl continued, her eyes locking onto Anne-Marie's with a cruel glint.

"Say that with more excitement, Valerie," Noa retorted, her tone icy. "And let the tears out next because I know you're dying to."

"We all know you wished Paris was dead," Aubrey added, her voice laced with disdain. "I bet you couldn't wait for the news to get out so you could start making your move on the prince. I heard you paid a visit to the palace a good number of times."

"Are you going to get involved?" Asher asked, turning to Aiden, who was now pretending to be engrossed in his phone.

"They can handle it," Aiden replied coolly, not bothering to look up.

Valerie scoffed, her smirk widening. "Ouch," she said mockingly. "You mistake me for someone without a heart, Aubrey."

"And actual balls," Noa added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Valerie ignored Noa's jab, turning her full attention back to Anne-Marie.

"You know, if we're being honest, your friends are right, you should have just stayed dead in that hospital bed. Did you really think jumping in front of that bullet for the prince was going to earn you his affection? All your efforts are going to be for nothing because you'll never have the prince's heart. He hates you, and he will never let you become Queen of Breton."

The venom in Valerie's voice was palpable, her words like daggers aimed straight at Anne-Marie's heart.

"We all know I stand a better chance. I'd be a better Princess for the prince than you'd ever be. He hated you before you took that bullet, and nothing has changed," Valerie continued, her smirk deepening. "Plus, your engagement didn't even happen anymore, which brings us back to where we started—at the very beginning."

"At the very beginning?" Aubrey echoed, her voice filled with mockery. "You didn't even pass the selection test. Paris will always have the upper hand. Her marriage to the prince has been approved by the Queen and the royal family."

Anne-Marie exhaled slowly, finally finding her voice.

"I will always have a seat beside the throne," she said, her tone steady and measured, even as her heart raced. Everyone turned to look at her, including Valerie, who seemed taken aback by her calm demeanor. "Or at least a step in front of it. Even if I don't get to be Queen of Breton, I'll always have a part to play in the Prince's succession. You reek of futile desperation, and from what I see, I'm not even certain you'd get a seat in front of the palace gates, let alone beside the prince. With that nasty attitude of yours, you wouldn't even get selected as a concubine if concubines were allowed in Breton. Not even if you got an extra Botox on both your cheeks or a nose job."

Valerie's eyes narrowed, her face darkening with anger as Anne-Marie's words sank in.

"What?" Valerie's voice was low, dangerous.

Aubrey and Noa struggled to suppress their laughter, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Even the girls who had come with Valerie exchanged amused glances, unable to hide their smirks.

"What did you just say to me?" Valerie demanded, her voice shaking with fury. "Fix my attitude? A nose job?"

"Uh, duh," Noa interjected, rolling her eyes. "Come on, Valerie, you're pretty and all, but you've got your father's nose, and we all know how big of a turnoff that is."

"The Queen wouldn't want any of her grandkids to have a bad nose like that," Aubrey added with a dramatic gasp, feigning concern. "You know, I know a good doctor—"

"What?" Valerie clenched her fists, her entire body trembling with anger. Anne-Marie could see the barely contained rage in her eyes. She let out a shaky breath and stood up slowly, her instincts telling her to defuse the situation before it escalated further.

"That's enough, guys," Anne-Marie said, her voice firm as she stepped forward, placing herself between her friends and Valerie. The last thing she wanted was for this to spiral out of control. The tension was thick in the air, and she could see that Valerie was on the verge of losing it completely.
"Let's just leave," she added, hoping to avoid any further confrontation.

She took a step forward, her heart pounding in her chest, and then another, trying to put as much distance between them and Valerie as possible. Aubrey and Noa, sensing her urgency, followed her lead. The room was eerily silent, the air heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

"Vee," one of Valerie's friends hissed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can't just let them go. Not after what they just said to you."

Valerie's eyes narrowed to slits, her fists tightening at her sides. She could feel her anger bubbling over, hot and uncontrollable. She wasn't about to let them walk away after humiliating her in front of everyone. No, she wouldn't. She couldn't.

In a sudden burst of movement, Valerie lunged forward, her hand shooting out to grab a fistful of Anne-Marie's hair. The force of the pull jerked Anne-Marie backward, causing her to stumble and nearly lose her balance. Panic surged through her as she tried to twist around, to free herself from Valerie's grasp, but the grip was too strong.

"Noa! Aubrey!" Anne-Marie gasped, trying to call out to her friends, but Valerie was already dragging her toward the pool with frightening determination. Noa and Aubrey quickly realized what was happening and rushed forward to help, but Valerie's friends blocked their path, smirking as they stood in the way.

"How dare you?" Valerie snarled, her voice low and venomous as she continued to pull Anne-Marie toward the edge of the pool. The rage in her eyes was almost feral.
"How dare you speak to me like that?"

Anne-Marie struggled, desperately trying to free herself, but Valerie's grip was unrelenting. Before she knew it, she was teetering on the edge of the pool, her balance slipping as she fought to stay upright. But it was no use. With a final, brutal shove, Valerie pushed her into the water.

The cold shock of the pool hit Anne-Marie like a freight train. The moment she plunged into the water, panic overtook her. She thrashed wildly, her limbs flailing as the water closed over her head. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. All she could feel was the icy grip of fear squeezing her chest.

The world above the surface faded into a blur of muffled sounds and distorted images. She was sinking, sinking fast, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find her footing. Her head spun, her lungs burning for air as she fought against the pull of the water.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard the muffled shouts of her friends, the chaos unfolding above her, but it all seemed so far away, so unreachable. All she could focus on was the cold, the fear, and the desperate need to escape.

Aubrey gasped, and so did everyone else around.

"Hey! Valerie!" Noa yelled, pushing past Valerie's friends with a fury that matched the situation. She hurried to Valerie and grabbed her by her hair as well, shocking Valerie and making her take a frightened gasp as she tugged to free herself and upon the realization that she was probably never going to be able to, took hold of a fistful of Noa's hair.

Aubrey did the same, she grabbed on to fist full hairs of both girls in front of her, one at each hand while they screamed in pain and grabbed on to hers as well.

Both sides had gotten into a fight that none of them realized what was happening in the pool. Panic gripped Anne-Marie as she fought to keep her head above the water. She gasped and flailed, her movements frantic but uncoordinated. Water kept rushing into her mouth, choking her. Her legs kicked out desperately, but she couldn't find the bottom of the pool. She tried to call for help, to shout out, but every time she opened her mouth, more water filled her throat. She was sinking, slipping beneath the surface, and she couldn't stop it.

Meanwhile, Aubrey and Noa remained clueless, their attention still on delivering a good payback. They assumed, like everyone else, that Paris-Anne-Marie—could handle herself. After all, she was supposed to be a great swimmer, the best in the school. The idea that she might be in real trouble never crossed their minds.

Henry, meanwhile, was laughing so hard he could barely keep his phone steady as he filmed Anne-Marie's struggle in the pool. To him, it was all a joke—a ridiculous, amusing spectacle. But then he noticed something that made his laughter falter. He zoomed in, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Something was wrong.

Anne-Marie's hand was flailing out of the water, grasping at nothing, desperate for help. Her head bobbed under the surface, staying under longer each time. She wasn't being dramatic. She wasn't playing around. She was drowning.

"She's drowning," Henry whispered, his voice laced with a sudden, jarring realization. He started tapping Aiden's leg frantically. "Your Highness—"

Aiden looked up, irritation flashing in his eyes, clearly annoyed.

"She's drowning," Henry repeated, his voice more urgent now.

Asher's phone slipped from his hand, his attention fully captured by Henry's words. He turned to Henry, who was now standing, his gaze fixed on the pool.

"Paris is drowning," Henry said again, louder this time, the words heavy with alarm but no one seemed to be listening to him, everyone seemed to be more interested in the fight that was going on.

Aiden and Asher both turned to the pool, their eyes narrowing in disbelief. Anne-Marie's head broke the surface again, her gasps for air loud and desperate. She tried to scream, but the water kept silencing her. She was weakening, her movements growing sluggish, and then, she slipped under the water once more, her body vanishing beneath the surface.

"I don't think she's faking it this time," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible over the rush of his pulse.

Aiden sat up straighter, his heart pounding in his chest. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. He counted silently in his head, waiting for her to resurface. Five seconds passed. Then ten. The water remained eerily still.

Aubrey stopped yanking hairs midway upon noticing how extremely quiet the pool was. She took a quick scan around the room amidst the chaos with hands still holding on to her hair.

She finally turned toward the pool, frowning when she didn't see Anne-Marie.

"Where's Paris?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

Noa and Valerie stopped fighting as well, leaving their hands firm on each other's hairs as they turned to the pool, Noa's eyes scanned it. "What? Is she out already?"

Aiden's fists clenched, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts. He counted again, silently urging her to come up. But she didn't.

"Five, four, three..." he murmured to himself, each number a pulse of growing dread.

"Two," he whispered, his gaze locked on the still water.

Suddenly, someone in the crowd yelled,

"There's something in the water!"

Aubrey's heart skipped a beat just as the fight broke out and they all let go of each other's hair. She ran towards the edge of the pool and  looked closer. And then, she saw it, Her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh my God!" she screamed, her voice cracking with fear. "It's Paris!"

Asher couldn't wait any longer. Without a second thought, he jumped to his feet, his hands fumbling with his shoes as he prepared to dive in. He was on the verge of jumping when Harry grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Bro, what are you doing?" Harry asked, his voice laced with concern. "You're not thinking of jumping in there when you can't swim, are you?"

Asher froze, his heart racing and his mind spinning. Harry was right—he couldn't swim. But that didn't stop the overwhelming urge to save her, to do something, anything. His frustration was palpable as he took another step forward, but before he could act, a figure shot past him.

Aiden.

Without hesitation, Aiden few down the row of bleachers in speed and dove into the pool, cutting through the water with powerful strokes. The entire room gasped, their disbelief hanging in the air like a tangible weight.

Aiden reached Anne-Marie in seconds, grabbing her limp body and pulling her to the surface. She was unconscious, her face pale and lifeless. Aubrey and Noa were at the edge of the pool in an instant, helping Aiden lift her out of the water. The rest of the students formed a tight circle around her, their eyes wide with fear and shock.

Aiden emerged from the pool, water streaming from his clothes, his expression one of intense focus. He didn't hesitate. He dropped to his knees beside Anne-Marie, ignoring the cold and the crowd, his attention solely on her. Aubrey was in tears, her hands shaking as she tried to find a pulse with her messy hair.

"She's not breathing," Aubrey whispered, her voice trembling with panic. "Why isn't she breathing?"

Aiden's heart clenched. He moved quickly, unbuttoning her shirt with shaking hands, ignoring the murmurs of the crowd. He began CPR, his movements precise and determined.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath as he pressed down on her chest. "Come on!"

The crowd was silent, the tension thick as they watched Aiden work. Aubrey's tears fell freely now, her hands clutching at her chest as she prayed for a miracle.

"Your Highness," one of the guards approached, concern etched on his face. "You need to get dried off, you could catch a cold—"

"Stand back!" Aiden snapped, his voice sharp and commanding. He didn't stop for a second, his hands continuing to press rhythmically on her chest. "Come on!"

The room was filled with hushed whispers, fear and disbelief swirling in the air. The medical staff arrived, but Aiden didn't move, didn't pause. He kept going, his determination unwavering.

And then, with one final push, Anne-Marie coughed, water sputtering from her lungs as she rolled onto her side. The relief was immediate, crashing over everyone like a wave. Aubrey let out a sob of relief, Noa slumped back, and even Harry and Asher exhaled the breath they hadn't realized they were holding.

"Oh my God, Paris! you scared us to death!" Aubrey cried, patting Anne-Marie's back as she struggled to breathe. But as the chaos settled, Aiden's gaze zeroed in on something that sent a jolt through him.

A scar.

There, on her shoulder, barely visible but undeniably there. He blinked, his mind reeling. How? How did she have that? When did she get them? The Paris he knew was meticulous, careful to the point of obsession about her appearance. She had never had scars. She would never allow it.

Anne-Marie was still gasping for air, but she noticed the way Aiden was staring at her. She followed his gaze, realizing with horror that her shirt was partially undone, exposing her scars—and more. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she quickly pulled her shirt together, covering herself. But as she looked back at Aiden, she saw something in his eyes that terrified her.

He was piecing it together. He was seeing through her.

Panic surged through her, and in a split-second decision fueled by instinct and fear, she did the only thing she could think of. She flung her head forward with all the strength she had left, her forehead colliding with Aiden's in a brutal headbutt.

The impact was immediate and powerful. Aiden recoiled, stumbling backward before falling to the ground, dazed.

The room erupted in gasps. No one could believe what had just happened. Not even Aiden. He lay on the floor, stunned, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of the situation.

"Your Highness!" the teacher shrieked, rushing forward with the medical staff in tow.

"Oh my God," Aubrey whispered, her hand covering her mouth in shock. Noa mirrored her reaction, and Harry just stood there, his eyes wide with disbelief.

For a moment, the entire room was silent. Even the guards hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Anne-Marie felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. The room around her seemed to blur as she slowly raised a trembling hand to her nose, feeling the warm trickle of blood seeping from where her head had collided with Aiden's. Her breathing was ragged, and she could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, a mix of shock, disbelief, and horror.

"D-did she just headbutt the prince?" Harry stammered, his voice barely a whisper as he turned to Asher, who was still too stunned to respond. He had never seen anything like it, he had never seen her like that.

"She's crazy." Harry whispered.

Aiden, still lying on the floor, let out a scoff of disbelief as he slowly pulled himself back to a sitting position. His hand was pressed against his forehead, where a sharp pain throbbed from the impact. He couldn't believe it either. He had been blindsided, not just by the physical blow, but by the sheer audacity of what had just happened.

"Has she lost her mind?" one of the students whispered, the words rippling through the crowd like a wave.

"She hit the prince," another voice murmured, the disbelief clear in their tone. "She's totally lost it."

Phones were out, cameras were recording, capturing every moment of this shocking event. Anne-Marie's head was spinning, not just from the physical pain but from the realization of what she had done. She looked around, seeing the faces of her peers, their shock, their judgment, and worst of all, their satisfaction in seeing her downfall. She felt completely exposed, vulnerable, and utterly alone.

"Your Highness!" the teacher shouted again, this time directing the medical staff towards Aiden. They quickly surrounded him, trying to assess his condition, their faces pale with fear of what might happen next.

Aiden, still holding the handkerchief to his bleeding nose, waved them off. His eyes never left Anne-Marie. Despite the pain and the chaos, his gaze was sharp, focused, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He couldn't look away from her—there was something raw and unhinged in her expression that he had never seen before, something that made him question everything he thought he knew.

"Leave her!" Aiden commanded, his voice cutting through the murmurs and whispers that filled the room.

Elijah, who had been ready to rush at Anne-Marie, froze at Aiden's words. His body tensed, every instinct telling him to intervene, but Aiden's order kept him rooted in place.

"Paris," Aubrey's voice was soft, trembling with a mix of fear and concern as she reached out to touch Anne-Marie's arm. "What did you do?"

Anne-Marie blinked, her eyes wide and unfocused as she tried to process everything. She had just struck the prince of Breton, the very person she was supposed to be pretending to care for. The enormity of her actions began to settle in, heavy and suffocating.

She slowly scanned the room, seeing the phones pointed at her, the judgmental stares, the whispers that grew louder with each passing second. This wasn't just a mistake, it was a disaster.

Elijah, his face tight with anger, turned back to Aiden, his eyes blazing with barely contained fury.

But Aiden didn't flinch. He was too busy trying to piece together the fragments of the situation, his mind racing even as the medical staff tried to tend to him. They encouraged him to leave the area, to get to a safer, quieter place, but Aiden didn't move. Not yet.

He took one last, hard look at Anne-Marie. His expression was a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something else—pain. Finally, with a sharp exhale, Aiden allowed the staff to help him to his feet. The room was silent, all eyes on him as he steadied himself, his gaze still fixed on Anne-Marie. Without another word, he turned and began to walk away, his guards and friends quickly following behind him.

Anne-Marie watched them go, her body shaking from the cold, the shock, and the overwhelming wave of regret. She could feel her world crumbling around her, the life she was supposed to pretend to live slipping through her fingers.

"Paris," the teacher's voice was urgent as she hurried over with the remaining medical staff, concern etched deeply into her features. "Are you okay?"

Anne-Marie winced as she touched her throbbing head, feeling the tender spot where she had collided with Aiden. The pain was real, but it was nothing compared to the fear gripping her chest.

The room remained tense, everyone too shocked to speak, too overwhelmed to react properly while the medical staff tended to Anne-Marie. Asher stood nearby, still processing what he had just seen, his mind reeling with disbelief. He just stood there, numb from head to toe, shocked at what he had just witnessed, unable to get himself to say a word.