Charisma 100: My Academy Life As A Heartbreaking Commoner-Chapter 222: Victory Lap

The streets of Rosevale were festive.

It was a celebration, after all. With her win over the griffin done and Aegis back home, she figured it would be good to take a second little victory lap here, like she’d done in Lenninsale.

So, atop a carriage, this time with the griffin’s head displayed proudly behind her, Aegis waved and cheered at the peasants and workers gawking at her.

"Lady Starcaller!" Someone shouted from the crowd. "Can I get your autograph!?"

"Sure thing!"

Aegis leaned down and scribbled her name on some piece of parchment the guy was holding up. She didn’t even know what it was. A pamphlet, maybe? A letter? His shopping list? Didn’t matter. The point was that people wanted her signature now, and that was pretty fucking cool.

Evelyn sat beside her on the carriage, not looking particularly relaxed.

"This was reckless," Evelyn said, though her tone wasn’t as disapproving as her words suggested. "Fighting a griffin alone. You could have died."

"But I didn’t."

"But you could have."

"But I didn’t." Aegis grinned and blew a kiss at a cute brunette in the crowd. The girl turned bright red and nearly tripped over her own feet. "Besides, look at this turnout. You can’t buy this kind of publicity."

Evelyn sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I suppose not. It will be the talk of the city for at least a week. Maybe two, if we’re lucky."

"See? Worth it."

Another person shoved a piece of paper in Aegis’s face, and she signed it without looking. Then another. And another. At some point, she was pretty sure she signed someone’s hat, but honestly, it was all blurring together now.

"Lady Starcaller! Over here!"

Aegis turned and spotted a pair of girls, probably sisters judging by how similar they looked, waving frantically from the side of the street. She winked at them and they both let out little squeals that were, frankly, adorable.

[God, I love being famous.]

At least, in this way.

Those shadow mages? She could do without that level of fame.

[... I’ll have to deal with them somehow, but-]

"So," Evelyn said, pulling out a small notebook and flipping through it, "with this little stunt of yours, where do you think we stand?"

Aegis leaned back against the griffin’s massive severed head, crossing her arms behind her own head. The feathers were surprisingly comfortable, actually. Like a big, dead, monster-shaped pillow.

"I think," she said, watching the crowds part around the carriage as it rolled through the market district, "the ball’s in House Stone’s court now. I’ve passed their audit. I’ve passed their military assessment. I killed a fucking griffin by myself. At some point, Evangeline’s going to run out of hoops to make me jump through."

"And when she does?"

Aegis smiled.

"Then she’ll have to admit I’m a legitimate candidate. Or she’ll have to come up with something really, really creative to shut me down."

Evelyn closed her notebook.

"I’m not sure which prospect concerns me more."

"Relax." Aegis reached over and patted Evelyn on the shoulder. "We’ve got momentum now. Let’s see them try to stop it."

---

{Darius}

Naturally, the latest news of Starcaller’s vanity campaign made its way to House Goldspire.

"A griffin," his mother said, pacing back and forth across the drawing room. "She killed a griffin. By herself. And now she’s parading through Rosevale like some kind of folk hero."

His father sat in his usual armchair, fingers steepled, expression unreadable.

"The commoners love her."

"The commoners are idiots."

"The commoners vote with their loyalty. As much as we’d love to ignore them, they could make things troublesome if they all fall in line behind her. And right now, both are flowing toward House Starcaller." His father’s eyes flicked toward Darius. "You’ve been quiet."

Darius had, in fact, been quiet. He’d been sitting by the window, watching the servants tend to the garden outside, half-listening to his parents argue about what to do next.

The thing was, he’d already figured out what to do next.

He’d been thinking about it for a while now, ever since Starcaller crashed the betrothal ceremony and turned everything upside down. The audits, the assessments, the constant maneuvering, none of it was working. Every time they threw an obstacle in her path, she cleared it. Every time they tried to slow her down, she sped up.

At some point, you had to stop playing fair.

"I have an idea," Darius said.

Both his parents turned to look at him.

"Well?" His mother crossed her arms. "Out with it."

Darius stood up from his seat and walked over to the center of the room. He’d practiced this in his head a few times already, but saying it out loud was different.

"We keep trying to prove she’s not worthy of marrying into House Stone," he said. "But that’s not working. She keeps passing every test. So maybe we should stop trying to disqualify her."

His father raised an eyebrow. "And do what instead?"

"Beat her. Directly. In a way that no one can argue with."

His mother’s eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"

Darius took a breath.

"A duel. For Princess Talia’s hand in marriage."

Silence.

His mother stared at him like he’d just suggested they set the manor on fire. His father, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, expression thoughtful.

"A duel," his mother repeated slowly. "But, son... didn’t she already...?"

She was being delicate about it, but Darius’s chest tightened all the same. Yeah. He remembered. The Winter Trials finals. The crowd cheering. Starcaller standing over him with that stupid grin on her face while he lay on his back.

He remembered.

"A fluke," he said, keeping his voice steady. "She caught me off guard. It won’t happen again."

"You sound confident."

"I am confident." Darius allowed himself a small smirk. "Besides, a formal duel for marriage rights wouldn’t be held at the academy. No faculty oversight. No referees making sure everyone plays nice." He met his mother’s eyes. "Nothing stopping us from... evening the odds a little."

His mother’s expression shifted from concern to consideration.

His father nodded slowly.

"It’s not the worst idea."

"It’s risky."

"It’s direct." His father looked at Darius with something that might have been approval. "And sometimes, direct is exactly what’s needed."

Darius nodded.

He was going to get his rematch. And this time, he wasn’t planning to lose.