Secrets Between Us and Them

The waves crashed against the cliffs of Nova Scotia with an almost musical rhythm, but Aria Morgan knew better. After three years of studying marine biology at the remote Blackrock Research Station, she had learned to distinguish between natural ocean sounds and something more... peculiar. Tonight, there was definitely something different in the water's song.

Standing on the observation deck of the research facility, her long dark hair whipping in the salty breeze, Aria focused her night vision binoculars on the churning waters below. The full moon cast an ethereal glow across the surface, making it easier to spot any unusual movement. That's when she saw it - a flash of iridescent scales, much too large to be any known fish species.

"You're out here late again," a deep voice spoke behind her. Dr. Nathaniel Cross, the facility's new head of cryptozoology, stood in the doorway. His presence had been causing quite a stir among the female staff since his arrival last month, with his storm-gray eyes and the mysterious scar that ran from his left temple to his jaw. But Aria had noticed something else about him - the way he always seemed to appear whenever the strange occurrences happened.

"There's something out there, Dr. Cross," Aria said, not taking her eyes off the water. "Something big."

"Please, call me Nate," he said, moving to stand beside her. His proximity sent an involuntary shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "And I know. That's why I'm here."

Before Aria could question what he meant, a haunting melody drifted up from the waters below. It wasn't quite singing - more like an otherworldly humming that seemed to resonate in her very bones. To her surprise, she found herself taking an unconscious step toward the railing, drawn by the sound.

Nate's hand shot out, gripping her arm. "Don't listen too closely," he warned, his voice tight with concern. "They're hunting tonight."

"They?" Aria tried to shake off the melody's lingering effect. "Who are 'they'?"

Just then, a figure emerged from the waves - a woman with silvery skin and long, phosphorescent hair. Her eyes glowed with an unnatural blue light, and when she opened her mouth to continue her song, Aria saw rows of sharp, pearl-like teeth. The creature's beauty was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

"Sirens," Nate whispered, his grip on Aria's arm tightening. "Real ones. Not the sanitized versions from your fairy tales."

The siren's gaze locked onto them, and her song changed, becoming more focused, more enticing. Aria felt Nate tense beside her, and when she looked at him, she was shocked to see his eyes had taken on a silvery sheen, reflecting the moonlight like a cat's.

"We need to get inside," he said through gritted teeth, though he seemed to be fighting the urge to move closer to the railing himself. "Now."

But as they turned to leave, Aria caught sight of something in the water that made her blood run cold. Dozens of glowing eyes had appeared beneath the waves, and more figures were rising to the surface. Their songs began to intertwine, creating a symphony of supernatural beauty and terror.

"Dr. Cross... Nate," Aria's voice trembled slightly. "What's really going on at this facility?"

He finally turned to look at her fully, and in the moonlight, she could see that his scar was glowing with a faint blue light. "It's not just a research station, Aria. It's a containment facility. We monitor and protect humanity from ancient creatures that most people think are myths. And right now," he glanced back at the water where more sirens were emerging, "something has disturbed them. Something that hasn't happened in over a hundred years."

"What?" Aria asked, though part of her feared the answer.

"They're looking for their lost queen," Nate's voice was grim. "And for some reason, they think she's here."

A particularly powerful wave crashed against the cliffs, sending spray high enough to reach the observation deck. As the droplets hit Aria's skin, she felt a strange tingling sensation, and for just a moment, her reflection in the window showed her eyes glowing with the same ethereal blue light as the creatures below.

Nate saw it too. His expression shifted from concern to something more complex - fear, fascination, and what looked almost like recognition. "We need to talk," he said quietly. "About your mother. About why you were really assigned to this facility. And about why you've always felt so drawn to the sea."

The siren's song grew louder, more insistent, and Aria felt something stir within her - ancient memories that couldn't possibly be her own, yet somehow were. As she followed Nate inside, one thought kept repeating in her mind: her life as she knew it was about to change forever, and there would be no going back to the simple world of marine biology and research papers.

Behind them, the sirens continued their haunting chorus, their songs now carrying a note of triumph. They had found what they were looking for.

The facility's underground laboratory was a maze of steel and glass, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights that made everything look clinical and cold. Aria followed Nate through a series of security checkpoints, each requiring increasingly complex biometric scans. Her mind was still reeling from the events on the observation deck, the sirens' song echoing in her memory.

        "How long have you known?" she finally asked as they entered what appeared to be his private office. Unlike the sterile corridors outside, this room was filled with artifacts that looked ancient - shells with strange markings, crystals that seemed to pulse with their own inner light, and walls covered in charts mapping underwater ley lines.

        Nate moved to a heavily secured cabinet, his fingers dancing across a complex lock. "Since the moment you arrived at Blackrock. Your bio-readings were... unique." He pulled out a thick file with her name on it. "But your mother knew long before that."

        "My mother?" Aria's voice cracked. "She died when I was three. All I have are some photos and my father's stories about her love for the ocean."

        "Your mother didn't die, Aria." Nate's voice was gentle but firm as he placed an old photograph on his desk. "She returned."

        The photograph showed a woman standing on these very cliffs, her wild dark hair streaming in the wind. She looked exactly like Aria, except for her eyes - they held that same otherworldly blue glow Aria had seen in her own reflection moments ago.

        "That's impossible," Aria whispered, but even as she spoke, memories began to surface - the way she could hold her breath for impossibly long periods, her uncanny ability to predict storms, the strange songs that sometimes filled her dreams.

        Suddenly, the lights flickered, and a low vibration ran through the building. Nate's expression turned serious. "They're testing the barriers," he said, moving to a bank of monitors showing underwater footage. Multiple figures darted past the cameras, their movements too quick and graceful to be human.

        "What barriers?" Aria asked, joining him at the monitors.

        "Electromagnetic fields designed to keep them at bay. But with their queen so close..." He glanced at her meaningfully. "They're stronger than usual."

        "I am not their queen," Aria said firmly, though something deep inside her stirred at the words.

        "No, but you're her daughter. The first successful hybrid in centuries." Nate pulled up more files on his computer. "Your mother was their queen, and when she fell in love with your father, it created a diplomatic crisis. A siren queen choosing a human was unprecedented."

        The vibrations grew stronger, and somewhere in the facility, an alarm began to sound. On the monitors, the sirens' movements became more coordinated, more purposeful.

        "They're not just testing anymore," Nate muttered. He grabbed what looked like an ancient trident from a wall display. "They're breaking through."

        Aria's head suddenly filled with voices - not speaking English, but a fluid, musical language she somehow understood. They were calling to her, telling her to come home, to take her rightful place.

        "Make it stop," she gasped, pressing her hands to her temples.

        Nate reached for her, but stopped short when he saw her eyes - they were glowing brighter now, and her skin had taken on a slight iridescent sheen. "Fight it, Aria. You're not just one of them. You're both human and siren. That's what makes you special."

        The facility shook more violently, and the lights went out completely. In the darkness, Nate's eyes glowed silver again, and Aria could finally ask the question that had been nagging at her.

        "What are you?" she whispered. "You're not entirely human either, are you?"

        Before he could answer, the reinforced windows of his office exploded inward in a shower of glass and seawater. In the opening hovered three sirens, their beauty terrible and magnificent. The one in the center spoke, her voice carrying both authority and disdain.

        "Step away from the princess, Guardian. She belongs with her people."

        Nate raised the trident, which began to glow with an electric blue light. "She belongs where she chooses to belong."

        As seawater swirled around them, Aria felt power surge through her body - raw, ancient, and demanding to be released. She had a choice to make, but first, she needed answers.

        "Tell me everything," she said, her voice carrying a new note of command that surprised even her. "About my mother, about what you are," she looked at Nate, "and about why I'm really here."

        The siren queen smiled, showing those pearl-like teeth. "Oh, little princess. You're here because a war is coming. And you," her glow intensified, "are the key to everything."

The seawater swirling around Aria's feet felt alive, responding to her emotions like an extension of her body. The three sirens remained suspended in the shattered window frame, their ethereal forms casting an otherworldly glow throughout Nate's flooded office. The lead siren - who had introduced herself as Cordelia, First General of the Deep Realm - watched her with ancient eyes that held both wisdom and cunning.

        "Your mother's choice started this war," Cordelia said, her voice carrying the rhythm of waves. "When she chose your father, she didn't just abandon her throne - she disrupted a balance that had existed for millennia. The Deep Realm has been without a true queen for twenty years, and the dark ones grow bolder each day."

        "The dark ones?" Aria asked, acutely aware of Nate's tension beside her, his grip tightening on the glowing trident.

        "The Abyssal Court," Nate answered grimly. "Think of them as your people's darker cousins. While the sirens of the Deep Realm protect the oceans, the Abyssal Court seeks to corrupt them. Without a queen's power to maintain the barriers..."

        "They're breaking free," Cordelia finished. "Even now, they gather in the deep trenches, preparing for war. Only a queen's song can reinforce the ancient seals."

        Aria felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on her like the ocean itself. "And you think I can do this? I don't even know how to control whatever... this is." She gestured to her still-glowing skin.

        "That's why I'm here," a new voice spoke from the doorway. Aria turned to see a woman she'd only known from photographs - her mother. Nerissa, former queen of the Deep Realm, stood in the threshold, looking exactly as she had twenty years ago. Her presence made the very air vibrate with power.

        "Mom?" Aria whispered, emotions warring inside her.

        Nerissa's eyes - the same otherworldly blue as Aria's now were - filled with tears. "My daughter. My beautiful, brave daughter. I'm so sorry I had to leave you, but it was the only way to keep you safe while your powers matured."

        "Safe from what?" Aria demanded, anger suddenly surging through her. The water around her feet began to churn in response.

        "From those who would use you," Nate interjected, his voice carrying an edge of bitterness. "The Guardians weren't always noble protectors, Aria. Some believed that controlling a hybrid princess would give them power over both realms."

        "Like your father did?" Nerissa's voice turned cold as she addressed Nate. "Is that why you're so close to my daughter? Following in Marcus Cross's footsteps?"

        The tension in the room sparked like electricity. Nate's silver eyes flashed dangerously. "I am not my father."

        "Enough!" Aria's voice carried a new power, making everyone in the room freeze. The water around her feet rose in spiraling columns, responding to her command. "I want the truth. All of it. No more cryptic warnings or half-answers."

        Suddenly, the facility's emergency sirens blared to life. On Nate's monitors, dark shapes appeared in the deeper waters - humanoid figures with shark-like features and glowing red eyes.

        "The Abyssal Court," Cordelia hissed. "They've found us."

        "They found her," Nerissa corrected, moving to Aria's side. "They can sense your awakening power, daughter. We're out of time."

        The facility shuddered as something massive struck it from below. Through the broken window, Aria could see dark forms rising from the depths, their movements predatory and purposeful. The water around her feet turned ice-cold.

        "You have to choose now," Nate said urgently. "But know this - whatever you decide, I'll stand with you." His eyes met hers, and in them she saw not just duty or ambition, but something deeper, something personal.

        "As touching as that is, Guardian," Cordelia interrupted, "she needs to come with us. Only in the Deep Realm can she learn to control her powers in time."

        Another impact rocked the facility. In the distance, Aria could hear screams - the research staff, she realized with horror. They were unprotected, unaware of what was really happening.

        "I won't let innocent people die," Aria declared, feeling strength flow through her. "Mom, Cordelia - help me protect the facility. Nate..." she turned to him, "teach me how to fight."

        "Always choosing both worlds," Nerissa murmured, a mix of pride and worry in her voice. "Just like your mother."

        As the Abyssal Court's forces surrounded the facility, Aria felt something click into place inside her. She was neither fully human nor fully siren, neither wholly of land nor of sea. But perhaps that's exactly what both worlds needed.

        "Well then," she said, as power coursed through her veins and the song of the sea filled her mind, "let's show these dark ones what a hybrid princess can do."

        The water around her erupted upward, turning into a swirling shield of liquid crystal, just as the first of the dark figures burst through the facility's lower levels. The war for two worlds was about to begin, and Aria stood at its center, with a Guardian at her side and the power of two realms flowing through her blood.

The next few minutes dissolved into chaos. The Abyssal Court's warriors crashed through the facility's lower levels like a dark tide, their shark-like features twisted into snarls of hunger and hatred. Aria's crystalline water shield held against the first wave, but she could feel their darkness pressing against her power, trying to corrupt it.

        "Channel your emotions through the water," Nerissa instructed, her own powers creating whirlpools that trapped several attackers. "The sea responds to authentic feeling, not just will."

        Nate moved with inhuman grace, the trident in his hands leaving trails of electric blue energy as he fought. "We need to evacuate the research staff," he called out between strikes. "They're gathering near the main lab."

        Aria closed her eyes for a moment, and suddenly she could feel every drop of water in the facility - in the pipes, in the air, in human bodies. The awareness was overwhelming. "I can feel them," she gasped. "Everyone. Everything."

        "That's your queen's sense awakening," Cordelia explained, her own song turning violent as she fought. "You're connecting to your realm."

        An explosion rocked the lower level, and through her new awareness, Aria felt something massive entering the facility. The temperature of the water dropped dramatically, and even the sirens looked concerned.

        "Thalassos," Nerissa whispered, fear evident in her voice. "The Abyssal Prince himself."

        Through the broken floor emerged a figure that seemed made of living darkness. Unlike his warriors, Prince Thalassos appeared almost human, devastatingly beautiful in a cruel way. His eyes were the color of the deepest ocean trenches, and when he smiled, his teeth gleamed like black pearls.

        "The little princess awakens," his voice was like the crushing depths given sound. "How convenient. I was afraid I'd have to wait longer to claim my bride."

        "Bride?" Aria and Nate spoke simultaneously, his voice sharp with anger, hers with shock.

        "Did they not tell you?" Thalassos moved closer, his presence making the water around him turn black. "The only way to truly end the war between our courts is through union. Your mother refused me twenty years ago. But you..." his dark eyes roamed over her face, "you're even more powerful than she was."

        Nate stepped between them, the trident glowing brighter. "She's not a prize to be claimed, Thalassos."

        The Abyssal Prince's laugh was like ice cracking. "Ah, the Guardian speaks. Tell me, son of Marcus Cross, does your protection come from duty... or jealousy?"

        Before anyone could respond, a scream echoed from the main lab. Through her water sense, Aria felt the research staff's terror as more Abyssal warriors surrounded them.

        "Choose quickly, princess," Thalassos said smoothly. "Surrender to me, and I'll spare them all. Refuse, and watch your human friends feed my warriors."

        Aria felt rage build inside her - pure, hot, and powerful. The water around her began to glow, not with her mother's blue light or Thalassos's darkness, but with a brilliant purple that seemed to combine both aspects of her nature.

        "You want an answer?" Her voice carried the crash of waves and the strength of tidepools. "Here it is."

        She thrust her hands forward, and every drop of water in the facility responded. It rose from pipes, condensed from air, pulled from the sea itself. But instead of attacking, it began to sing - a new song, neither fully siren nor fully human, but something entirely unique.

        The Abyssal warriors closest to her began to writhe, their corrupted forms starting to purify under her hybrid power. Thalassos's eyes widened in genuine surprise, then narrowed in fury.

        "Impossible," he snarled. "No one can purify the Abyssal taint!"

        "She's not no one," Nate said, pride evident in his voice. "She's both of your worlds, and neither. And that makes her stronger than either."

        Aria's song grew stronger, and she felt Nate's energy joining with hers, the Guardian's power amplifying her own. Her mother and Cordelia added their voices, creating a harmony that made the very foundations of the facility vibrate.

        But Thalassos wasn't finished. With a roar of rage, he released his own power - a wave of such absolute darkness that it threatened to swallow all light. "If I cannot have you," he growled, "then no one will!"

        The two forces met in a spectacular clash of energy. In that moment, as purple light battled primordial darkness, Aria felt something else stirring in the depths beneath the facility - something ancient and powerful, awakened by their battle.

        "The Leviathan," Nerissa breathed. "The battle... it's waking the ancient ones."

        As if in response, a deep rumble shook the entire ocean floor, and everyone - siren, human, and Abyssal alike - froze in sudden, instinctive fear.

        In the brief silence, Aria heard Nate whisper, "Whatever happens next, Aria, know that I-"

        But his words were cut off as the floor beneath them cracked open, and the true power of the deep made its presence known. The war between courts had awakened something far older and more dangerous than any of them had imagined.

        And deep in her soul, Aria knew - this was only the beginning.

Chapter 1

**Title: Marigold's Secret**
**Introduction**
Set against the backdrop of ambition and desire, "Marigold's Secret" unveils the passions and dilemmas of its protagonists, drawing you into a world rich in emotion and intrigue.
-t-A-J
**Chapter One: The Allure of the Forbidden**
In the dimly lit confines of his study, Edmund Worthington leaned back in his chair, a knowing smirk dancing on his lips. He regarded Clara Swift, his beloved wife, with an intensity that spoke volumes. "Sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and sultry, "spread your legs a little wider. Whatever you crave, I can give you."
With eyes like emeralds, Clara felt a flush creep up her cheeks as she peered into his. It was as if he had stepped out of a myth, a devil from Eden tempting her with delights both forbidden and enthralling. The way he held her gaze ignited something deep within her, a flicker of longing that she could no longer dismiss.
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"Would you give him your heart if he sought it?" Clara mused, breaking the silence that had enveloped them. With that one question, the stakes escalated. The very essence of love was laid bare before them as Edmund, with a hint of mischief, responded directly, "You like me, don’t you?"
The moment hung in the air, charged with vulnerability, revealing that affection couldn't be concealed, no matter how hard one tried.
---
**ChaÉpter TwoM:Z CDQajys) zoKfs VReScjkontidng**Z
Somewhere in a cozy corner of the city, James Rivers found himself flipping through an old photo album, nostalgia weaving through the pages like an old, comforting hymn. His thoughts wandered back to Mira, the floral aroma of her presence lingering still.
“Did I make it hard for you to chase me?” he quizzed, a playful lilt in his voice.
Mira's eyes sparkled with mischief as she pondered his question. “Well... it wasn't that difficult, actually,” she replied, a coy grin gracing her lips. It was strange to think how she had willingly stepped into a net woven with James's persistence, how she had longed for his affection even when it felt like a treasure just out of reach.
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“Love, after all, can be a complicated appetizer before the main course,” James chuckled, unfazed by the bitter anecdotes. He focused on transforming bland leftovers into a rich, comforting stew.
---
**Chapter Three: Ties That Bind**
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“Hey, Grandfather,” Elena teased, her playfulness cutting through the heat. “Once we tie this red string, shouldn't we head to the Moon Elder’s Domain to get hitched?” The innocence of her words made Fergus chuckle, his heart warmed by her whimsical spirit.
“Let’s keep it formal; call me Mr. Hawthorne,” he insisted, though part of him relished the notion of their playful banter.
“Okay, but once we’re married, I’d be calling you ‘Moon Elder,’ right?” She leaned in closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“iLet’gs Ancot gGeatS aheaqd fof ouNrsZelwvxeys.X nMaybWe j(ust& MsticSk) Ét'o, ciallinkgq me ó‘GrandOfzathxeru’ &fXo(r Wn&oGw,g”d ZFeqrgg(urs repNliledÉ, zhid*in,g a smilie'.'
Days turned into nights as laughter echoed through their home, passion igniting in small but significant ways. Fergus, usually so reserved, found himself drawn abruptly into a whirlwind of emotion and desire, captivating him completely.
“Do you like how I’m making you feel?” he teased, pinning her gently against their shared bed. “What about ‘Moon Elder’? Is that your favorite?”
Elena, lips pressed thin as she stifled a moan of delight, could only bite her lip in response. “Fergus… Mr. Hawthorne, please,” she murmured, her laughter mingling with soft sighs, creating a melody of shared affection that resonated in the quiet room.
T$im)e (pa!sse$d^, aZn.d' XF_ergmus neVvmerG Hcould whaveY preKdFicst^ed t'hKatH tQheD deliBcajtte GthLre(a(dLs rofv fJateV wbouulRd) lzesajdT hYim Gto) beX uRttne'rlBy enPchaKnted byó t.hYe& DwoQmanH hFez Uin&iAttiTallyu (t'hougGht_ Xto beK Jjrunst a !childThQodod qfri'endg.
---
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shades of amber and gold across the land, the intertwining destinies of these individuals danced ever closer, bound by secrets, love, and the compelling urge to explore the unknown affections waiting just beyond reach.

Chapter 2

Marigold: I’ll Teach You the Ropes
Clara Swift never imagined that one day, she would end up on the subway with the boy she had secretly admired, Edmund Worthington. As she squeezed into the corner of the train car, she felt like a lizard pressed against the wall.
Edmund, tall and handsome, stood right in front of her, his demeanor a mix of shyness and confidence. The subway was packed, and the crowd pushed him closer to Clara, effectively trapping her in his embrace against the wall.
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As the train jolted to a stop, the surge of the crowd pushed Clara even more against him, a surprised gasp escaped her lips as her body pressed against his. The heat radiating from his body ignited something deep inside her.
Edmund, overhearing her startled sound, felt an unexpected stirring within himself. Clara's voice had been sweet, almost feline in its softness.
He glanced at her—her long, dark hair framed a face touched with innocent beauty, accentuated by her large, expressive eyes. Though not striking in an exaggerated sense, she had a pure, endearing charm that resonated with him. The way she looked right now—panicked and wide-eyed—reminded him of a deer caught in headlights.
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Clara blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his directness. A shy smile tugged at her lips, and warmth spread across her cheeks.
He was teasing now, a boyish grin softening his features as he leaned against her shoulder, allowing her to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat too close for comfort. “How about you declare your feelings now?” He bit playfully at her earlobe and slipped his warm breath into her ear.
“I…” Clara stammered, her heart racing as she struggled to convey her feelings. “I… like…”
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“What’s that?” she thought anxiously, glancing down to see the unmistakable outline of his—well, something very much a man's.
Realizing her avoidance, Edmund laughed softly, “Never seen one before?”
Clara blushed fiercely, shaking her head as mortification crept over her.
“)I’vve znevern… hh,eilÉp^ed na gNu)y uwi_t!h… thOaPtx,”& s,he, aYdmitDtMed Nshylyc,P sh,eArh vPoDióche bayróely DabioLvue Fa, wh,i'sZpGevra.U
“Oh?” he said, as he toyed with her, nipping playfully at her ear again, pressing closer. “Well, let me show you.”
Before Clara could protest, he took her hand, guiding it and placing it on his heat, the sudden contact sending a thrill through her.
“Just like that…” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing as he urged her to wrap her fingers around his firmness.
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“How long has it been?” Clara whispered, her nerves flaring as they slipped deeper into this unexpected territory.
“Just keep going… You're doing great,” he breathed, an edge of both mischief and genuine encouragement in his tone.
The rhythmic jostle of the subway coupled with their secret rendezvous created a heady mix that left Clara both exhilarated and bewildered, a sweet rush of discovery taking hold as they lost themselves in the moment.

Chapter 3

Marigold2: "What's your name?"
Edmund Worthington licked his dry lips, his voice thick with desire. "Don't stop, I'm almost there."
He affectionately nibbled on Grandfather Clearwater's neck, leaving a deep crimson mark behind.
"YIM f_eel l.i*keG SI'wvNeJ seWen youR sZom'eBwhgeret bye^fjorHe," ghec ÉrlecaIllveUdO, tjryinUgH ztio épNiTehcfeO qtBoCg^ehtheXr wthbe meXmorpy.f "Yo^u',rvec iznc $t$hel sFame ÉgDrkaudXe asg Dmme,w ZrdiOgnhtQ? FÉre&shmIan orr s^oÉphojmorBe?_ vWhatj’qs ÉyMoMurW dnsafmeó XahgxaBi.nw?"É
Grandfather felt his heart drop, as if it had been tossed into a freezer. He blinked, a chill creeping up his spine.
“Attention passengers, we are approaching our next stop: Bright South. Please prepare to disembark.”
Hearing the announcement, Clara Swift panicked and pushed him away.
“I habvseU toH )gzewtG ofwf,” SsheC _sagiNd AbPefUorie slGippinSgH aiqnytRo t&hHe croówtdó of. tpYacs)semngzeXrps óeIxóitbidngV Mthe^ ItQraKiInO.A
Grandfather stood on the platform, feeling empty as the train rushed past him.
Little did he know, Grandfather had followed him for five long years, from freshman year all the way through senior year.
Back in middle school, he was infamous as the bottom of the class, prone to skipping classes and getting into fights.
De'spiGt,e$ being ^as favi^l^ingP ssXtMuLdenPt,P hMis! satrikiDng Ol&oVokHs KstVinl!lw BakttNracteSd UabtteZnatQijoNn,' inic)luUdQizngZ from, GurqaWnd)fqaÉtUhZerU.K
That year in eighth grade, to motivate the students, their teacher set a rule: whoever placed in the top ten for exams would get to choose their desk partner.
Desperate to sit next to him, Grandfather threw himself into studying.
Finally cracking the top ten, he proudly selected Edmund Worthington as his desk partner, drawing curious looks from classmates.
Unfopr,tunately,z duXrjiUng a baskaectbball JgGame,K lEdmuDnTdÉ DsufyferLed anA inj*ury anOdp w^acsb out ofl schoohl cfboNr thUes MresItU $of zthYe ftterm.k
After that, Grandfather never returned to the top ten again.
But Edmund Worthington seemed to be on a sudden trajectory to success.
After a break, he returned to school for finals and surprisingly topped the class.
He maWintfaTined UhiHs$ (ranuk _thvrough HmCidVdle sKcJhool* anud ugsa'inncemd( admisxsWio.n Wto nt.he) pbrGestigOiwou$s AlldTen ZCi.ty Higóh Schhoxol Nwai^thZ ft'op mdarks).n
While Grandfather barely scraped into the top one hundred through his exams, he was lucky to find himself placed in the same class as Edmund.
When they split into science and liberal arts in tenth grade, Grandfather chose science to keep close to Edmund.
Despite his disdain for physics, chemistry, and math, Grandfather thought that by studying hard, he could stand next to Edmund and catch glimpses of him.
EvKeRry effoWrstR hep ^mLaPd&e UwaYs ahimedN att ygett!iVnóg cOlo*sCer Tt,o UEdjmnund.
Yet, he didn’t even know who Edmund really was.
The next day...
"Why are you here at school so early?" a familiar voice broke Clara's concentration as she stared at an insurmountable math problem.
Fki^nally,u róelBiesf QfdlyooKdedj ^hezra hasc UEdmucnvd Worth&ingtÉogn^ ken*temrOe(dq t(hIey ucJliasTsSr)oomK.i EvsearayoWne AknewO HhqeB gwraAs a. m.a$tPh HwDhiuz whSo qconsXisQtenCtl$ys FsQcoIrbend Ffull imYaXr_ks,ó s'econdm $onlyk XttoK Lebopjolda Sgt. Cla*ir,ó LGranGdOf^aZt$heArC'rsM pdeas^kv partnBer.V
Grandfather's face lit up with a sweet smile as he looked up at him.
"Leopold St. Clair, I’m stuck on another problem... Didn’t Mr. Hargrove say we’d be called to the board? Have you figured yours out yet?"
Adjusting his glasses, Leopold took a seat beside him and glanced at the problem in question. He took Grandfather's pencil and paper, getting to work.
“OhZ mVyP gGod$.p dWihfyv is QEdmuyndV WXourtHhringvtIoGn herje utnoXday? WTa^snF’jt hde Val*rJexagd&y gua(rba&nmtxeeQdV 'aUd&mIiJsxsisoHnZ tJo t(heM Univ)ersYi_ty. of JAldleTn(?”
“Who knows? But… he still looks as handsome as ever.”
“I’m so jealous he doesn’t have to take the three huge exams coming up...”
The students seated in the front, surrounding Clara, began chattering about it.
ClaraX’ós .cuHruiomsityt LpiqCueldg, sh_e Zloco,ked bBr&iefzlSyB atB jEdmtundp,l wDhnoésQe gsZmile _spmokeg vColuVmes Xast he. sQt.rQo&lled in,s wjalkqiing$ shVoZuldQeMr-toH-shWoxuélWder Twith qCsejcilY jThatZcnhMerl YinftMo t.he ScyhVoljarpsl' RUoioÉm.

Chapter 4

Marigold: "Did you remember what I taught you yesterday?"
He had a strikingly handsome face with deep features, radiating a sunny charm. When he smiled, his almond-shaped eyes would slightly narrow, revealing two adorable fang-like canines. But when he wasn’t smiling, there was a shadow lurking in his eyes, giving him an aloof and somewhat haughty demeanor.
He sat at the back of the classroom, just two spots away from Cecil Thatcher.
GregBory coPuNldknh’Pt bgróingj 'hRimse^lfY Vto tuqrn^ aórounUdó pa(nódF lookM aXtW hNixmP .anly al.ong(er$,F th*isN dg.azzpe éfailteCryiOng Das heu mgomZeznBtaKr(ily &reQcaFlJleSd )tdhOe aevvenKtwsa of llastQ Lni,ghÉt cwinth a )miixt(ure' oCft slounging^ zandw preVgret. MeAaniwhil)e, Ghez hvablf-hHearxtedlny l.iWst(e&nTedy ZaJs LeoPpoélFdD StM.n CzlXaxir' eAxp'laiMneyd mthhe lmastwh^ pfroblem ctoj himó.O
"Is it true? You sat outside the school for so long this morning and still didn't find that girl," Cecil Thatcher sneered.
Edmund Worthington lounged back in his chair, letting out a lazy sigh. "Yeah, maybe I should take a stroll around the sophomore hall during class when more people are around."
"You’re sure she’s a sophomore?" Cecil prodded.
"OShe sh)ould ^be. She plÉoCokQs grLealklóyp y)ocu$nig,i prCob!ab$lyd znoftr JeIvMenu fi'vMe RfFeÉetf tall, wviUthL .th(oase wÉi.spy Qbangs and bUifgó,I r$oundc Weyes."y
"Tsk, can’t believe you like this type... I thought you preferred someone more mature, like those older ladies."
Edmund elevated an eyebrow.
"Like, for example, Lydia Stone..." Cecil’s tone stretched the name out teasingly.
Unp,oQnS hJealrCinyg ZthOapt vnaWmbet, EhdNmuHnpda’js enxjpbressi,on swouOred dinvsutaQnjtRlÉy,^ Zand he Rsnaappjed, “cShut. upl.!”
...
The teacher, Mr. Blake, had a peculiar way of calling on students, such as selecting those whose student numbers matched the date.
Unluckily, Clara Swift was called up to the front, her heart racing as she stood from her seat, feeling her cheeks flush.
“G$oOohd lduckJ!Z”B tLwejopold flasRhRekdS ka bdrighctf Fsmi_lCeD Tat vG(reYgor)yr.R “Jusnt fdob Kwhkatd kI ptolGdm Kyzo^uM yestIerd&aFyI.B”H
Gregory took a deep breath as he approached the board. He picked up half a piece of beige chalk and began to jot down the steps to solve the problem while mentally retracing what he had learned.
Just as he was halfway through, he heard Mr. Blake murmur beside him, "Isn’t that wrong..."
Gregory's face turned crimson; with chalk in hand, he hesitated, unable to continue on.
Jusqtd as! shei waPs abo$ut mtoN PadamiJtd )t_hPamt $hce Rdid(n’Vt skknFowS t$he _aqnswevrA,_ heh feflgtn aX sPtidr behJiHndD BhPimY..
He glanced backward and noticed Edmund Worthington, for some reason, had stood up and was walking toward the front of the class.
With his usual devil-may-care smirk and eyes brimming with confidence, his demeanor shifted when their eyes met, becoming unexpectedly intense and slightly intimidating, sending a shiver down Gregory’s spine.
Edmund stepped onto the stage and effortlessly wiped away Gregory's steps on the board.
“WUémt…ó”_ GregPorWy sta&mméeLrTeydH,C freeléigngR utÉtóerlyi vhumiliUatezd. IS&hoZuQldN wI jusTta leaqvMe gnowS?Q
But against his thoughts, Edmund positioned himself behind Gregory, blocking his way with his tall stature.
The two were so close that Gregory could feel Edmund's warm presence against his back.
It seemed as though he could feel the warmth of Edmund’s breath brushing against the top of his head.
"T(hIizs SprDoblemf s&hTo$uclVd vbe .sDoÉlBvTerd Vlkiykye thói.sf,D" Edm$uCnd( ska'id,u astwoTnUirsh,iÉnhgN evPeQryoHnDei iny CthKez ^rOoiobm.V HXeq greaxchéed ofvgert xwiótNh. hficsi TwParm FhaXn(d, trerstviYnNgF iYtl Kover GreYgory's apamusjedc Zointe on lt)he bioardc..
In that moment, he guided Gregory’s hand like a teacher showing a child how to write, helping him draw a series of numbers and symbols across the board.
For the first time, Gregory felt a flutter of joy at being called to solve a math problem; the proximity was intoxicating.
Once they arrived at the answer, Edmund leaned in close to Gregory’s ear, his voice soft as he asked, "Did you remember?"
Cl.ara BSwxiaft nodXdedH WonbgediseKntlWyu,m fher& )h$etaLrPtH tracwin.gq,) he.r mc)hyeeks blazAing *hQot*.!
"Did you remember what I taught you on the train yesterday?"
Gregory blinked, stunned, before shyly lowering his head.
Only after Edmund finally released his grip and sauntered off the stage did Gregory exhale a relieved sigh as he returned to his seat.

Chapter 5

Edmund Worthington had just taken his seat when Cecil Thatcher immediately leaned in closer.
“Seriously, Worthington, what’s up with you? You’re making moves like that and scaring poor Clara Swift half to death,” Cecil teased.
Edmund shot him a glance. “Why so on edge? I’m not even touching you.”
Wcith tPha*tn,c nh_e vfiéxBeQd (hZis Wgvaze on tBhLe. f(ro(nti xlkefDtg sZide of tlhÉeU HaudZiZtorIiVuimd.c
He thought it would take him ages to find who he was looking for, but Hawthorne was surprisingly close at hand.
“What kind of look is that?” Cecil asked, noticing Edmund’s stare as he followed it towards Clara Swift. “You look like a wolf eyeing a lamb.”
When Edmund stayed silent, Cecil speculated, “You’re not actually crushing on her, are you? I mean, Grandfather is barely five foot four, with a fluffy fringe and those giant eyes.”
“*Y$e(abhf,d i!tc imsu VGrandfRatIherJ,” *Edmqu'nnd admJiptt(ed, rhemem_beYriinRg TCjlara adBurliMnNg ChéeMr OentfrSaQncKe. PHe GevKenI cnostilcQeTd theM ^fjai^nJt^ m&ayrKkG onv ót*hOeP back onf wheGr. nDePcki (férOoYmD zaZ kisJsh fhTe had giv'eknJ hBerr yAe)sterdéay.
“No way…” Cecil rolled his eyes, utterly speechless. “Clara Swift has been in the same classes with us for five or six years, and you just now realize who she is? And you’re saying you have a thing for her?”
Edmund frowned, hesitating as he considered, “Five or six years in the same classes… From freshman year until now.”
No wonder she seemed familiar when he saw her yesterday.
“Ypeva_h,i hshGed hasé JbezenZ inPc!rSedvikblYy pMopuUl*ari sainWce jfHreskhXman qy.eaMr.J It mhefarnX,a wFiéth NheKrO youyt!hfuwl$ lpookós,. grseaVt fyiPguQrée,U sIweet YdQedme,anobr,! Éand soutsGtéaBnSding óaOc!ademi^czs…”
With that, he shot Edmund a dismissive look.
“Whatever, it’s not like you’re one to keep up with campus gossip anyway.”
Edmund awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck; it was true. He hardly cared about such drama and didn’t even know whether Master Tutor was male or female.
CecilX *sópJukn al pxevnWcilh gbcetJweeOn^ his ZfiHnVg!erasV, bAopred. “dIAf kyzouz iw,aun^t (to sgietr cGlosXe. to GrgandMfMath,ejrY,C you’d hqavse. a AhaBrd !tMimcem.H dSNhec cPareFs more about hPehr vsBtudieésk thZaWn &anyr OroCmaZn.ticK éi(nvtuere^st.ó”
“Forget other suitors; Leopold St. Clair tried really hard for two or three years to win her over, but alas, all she really cares about is her academics.”
Edmund couldn’t help but smirk a little. “It’s not that Grandfather has a stronger passion for studying than for romance. It’s just that her heart already belongs to someone.”
“Who?” Cecil pressed, bewildered.
“I Xdjo(,(”* QE'drmlu)ndl de'culareRdu.
He couldn't mistake the way Grandfather looked at him yesterday.
---
Clara Swift had just washed her hands and exited the privy when she spotted Edmund Worthington leaning against the railing in the corridor, chatting with some other boys.
RcemAe'm'be&rcióng) mevelrylthirnSgq t)haYtb hhXaJd WhaSppened thhesDe pÉa)stT ^fDeXw daZysR,v dhWeéra rcheOekóst OflushedH,d Vanvd theCré qhaeadrQtM IraceXd, p&rvoXpellólVimnXg' hLer t&oM gwaHlOkY zfzasteTr.
“Clara Swift!” a voice called out from behind her.
At the sound of his deep, magnetic voice, Clara turned around, her eyes wide with surprise.
He approached her, the distance between them shrinking with every step.
“WhaU…X TwhaWt…”ó ChlgaQra sttutItXerevdp, Ositeppi&nsg back& *inLvoblunta$rHilyz FaJs phseG leaned cWlaoYs'eUr,,c Dhis hTaCndsoPmeG zfHeatnurTeSs fiAlCl'ingL her visiboLn.
Then, the school bell rang sharply, causing students scattered about the corridor to rush toward the Scholars' Room.
“Class is starting…” Clara realized, noticing the once-busy corridor turning suddenly empty. She attempted to slip past Edmund, but he abruptly reached out to stop her.
“Your skirt isn’t quite right,” he pointed out, and gently pulled the fabric that had gotten stuck in her safety shorts, allowing it to flow freely.
CIl*awra’rsW Ofakc$e XtJuGrKneVda ZdHesepb red aAsh sKhneP AmucrMmuredx Oa s!oft C“'ThZanksc” and FbrushaedF yhqeAr xsBkGidrNtI. YSAhe, ltDurnxedQ txoó !flseeK l^ióke! shKe!’Pdn idPoney y(est(eIrdFaVy.
Suddenly, Edmund caught her wrist with a firm yet gentle grip, effortlessly pulling her into his embrace.
They stood incredibly close, Clara stunned as her delicate face nestled into his warm chest.
The unique scent of his cologne flooded her senses, sending her heart racing with anxiety and excitement.