Blair stood alone in her Summit House living room, fingers pressed against the cool glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The campus spread below her like a ga board. Students moved between buildings in their color-coded uniforms. Red for Ruby. Blue for Sapphire. Black and grey for Obsidian.
Insects. All of them. Following their predictable little patterns while she watched from above.
Her reflection stared back at her from the window. Platinum blonde hair falling in perfect waves past her shoulders. Diamond earrings catching the morning light. Black blazer tailored so precisely it looked painted on. White silk blouse with exactly one button undone at the collar.
Perfect. Controlled. Untouchable.
The doorbell’s expensive chi echoed through the pristine space.
Blair smoothed invisible wrinkles from her blazer and checked the hallway mirror one final ti. Everything in place. Everything as it should be.
She opened the door.
Misato stood on the threshold in her standard academy uniform. The li green tie sat slightly crooked. Dark hair pulled back in that sa practical ponytail she’d worn since freshman year. Those unsettling green eyes t Blair’s without flinching.
"You called."
"I did." Blair stepped aside. "Co in."
Misato entered and glanced around the living space. Her expression stayed neutral but sothing tightened around her eyes. Judgnt maybe. Or calculation.
"Nice place."
"It serves its purpose." Blair gestured toward the leather couch near the fireplace. "Sit. We need to talk."
"About my squad beating yours." Misato remained standing. Her weight settled evenly between both feet. "About first place. About how that lottery kid sohow broke Charles Leone’s pull-up record."
Heat flashed through Blair’s chest. The mory surfaced without permission. Monroe’s transford body moving through those exercises. Muscles she’d sworn didn’t exist two weeks ago flexing under that too-tight academy shirt. His amber eyes eting hers across the field with sothing that looked almost like amusent.
"We’re not discussing Monroe."
"Then what are we discussing?"
Blair moved to her bar cart and poured herself two fingers of whiskey. Japanese single malt. Twenty years aged. The bottle alone cost more than most students spent on textbooks. She didn’t offer Misato anything.
"We’re taking a trip to the mainland today."
Misato’s posture shifted. Shoulders squaring. Feet spacing apart just slightly. The subtle adjustnt of soone preparing for a fight.
"Your father."
"My father." Blair took a sip. The whiskey burned perfectly. Smoke and oak and controlled fire. "He wants to et with . Discuss performance trics. Team coordination. Standard evaluation procedures."
"Bullshit."
Blair’s hand tightened around the crystal tumbler. The carved glass bit into her palm.
"Excuse ?"
"You heard ." Misato crossed her arms. The gesture changed her silhouette. Made her look broader. More immovable. "Johnathan Davenport doesn’t waste ti on standard anything. He wants intelligence. Information. Details about Monroe that he can’t get through official channels."
Smart girl. Too smart for her own good sotis.
"You work for ." Blair kept each word asured and controlled. Precision over volu. "I pay your stipend. I cover your academy expenses. I made sure you got into this program."
She paused. Let the next words carry their own weight.
"Despite everything else."
"Despite being from the slums, you an."
"Despite having zero guild connections and a mother with a criminal record." Blair finished her whiskey. Set the glass down with deliberate precision. The crystal rang softly against marble. "You owe everything, Misato. Your education. Your future. Your entire career."
Misato laughed. "Is that supposed to scare ? Make grateful?"
"It’s supposed to remind you who signs your checks."
"And it’s supposed to remind you that I earned first place. My squad earned it." Misato stepped closer. "We didn’t cheat. We didn’t buy our way in. We worked for it."
Blair felt the careful mask she wore around everyone else start cracking at the edges.
"Your squad," she repeated. "You an Monroe’s squad. The lottery kid who sohow convinced you to abandon everything I’ve given you for what? Friendship?"
"For respect." Misato’s voice stayed level but sothing dangerous flickered in those green eyes. "Sothing you’ve never understood."
"I understand plenty." Blair moved around the kitchen island. Put distance between them before she did sothing stupid. "I understand that Monroe is playing gas with forces he can’t comprehend. I understand that my father has questions that need answers."
"And you want to provide those answers."
"I want you to do your job."
"My job is keeping my squad alive. Not spying for soone who can’t handle losing."
Blair’s fingers found the counter edge. Gripped hard enough that her knuckles went white.
"Careful, Misato. You’re forgetting your place."
"My place?" Misato’s laugh turned sharp. "My place is with my squad. The people who trust . Who don’t treat like an asset to be managed."
"Those people will get you killed. Monroe especially." Blair’s voice ca out tighter than she’d intended. "He’s not what he appears to be. Sothing about him is wrong. Off. My father will figure out what."
"And if he doesn’t find anything?"
"He will."
Misato studied her for a long mont. Those calculating eyes taking in every detail. Blair felt exposed under that gaze. Like all her secrets were written across her face in permanent marker.
"You’re scared," Misato said finally.
"I’m practical."
"You’re terrified that the lottery kid might actually be better than you."
Heat exploded through Blair’s system. Her vision went white at the edges.
"Better than ?" Her voice cracked like a whip. "That pathetic waste of space? That nobody from nowhere who couldn’t run a mile without collapsing two weeks ago?"
"The sa nobody who’s transforming into sothing that makes you wake up at night." Misato’s smile turned predatory. "The sa nobody who beat your squad fair and square."
Blair’s hand moved before she could stop it. The slap caught Misato across the cheek with enough force to snap her head sideways.
Silence stretched between them.
Misato touched her cheek slowly. When she looked back at Blair, her expression had gone completely cold.
"Feel better?"
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