Claimed By The King(s) Of Kings

Aina

Aina stood just inside the arched doorway of L’Aura Royale, a sprawling, velvet-draped boutique located in the high-end shopping district three miles off campus. She crossed her arms, her eyes darting across the crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and racks of glistening fabrics.

How on earth were we even allowed to leave campus? she wondered to herself, shifting her weight as she watched a cluster of upperclassmen stroll past holding golden shopping bags. I thought leaving the academy grounds before the weekend was strictly forbidden without a signed pass from a high professor.

Yet, seeing the staggering number of students currently milling about the boutique, picking through designer cloaks and jewel-encrusted masks, Aina quickly realized a fundamental truth about this realm: the rules at the academy were merely suggestions for the ultra-wealthy. If you had royal blood or a title, the gates simply opened.

”Over here, Travis!” Molly squealed, grabbing Aina by the sleeve and pulling her down a grand hallway toward a private, VIP fitting suite.

The room was larger than Aina’s entire dorm, furnished with plush plush-plum velvet couches, full-length gilded mirrors, and a complimentary tray of sparkling nectar.

Despite all four girls—Molly, Cleo, Delilah, and Beatrice—already possessing gorgeous custom gowns back in their dorms, they threw themselves into trying on fresh, outrageous outfits just to see if something better existed. The private suite instantly devolved into a whirlwind of rustling silk, zipping dresses, and bursts of laughter as the girls darted back and forth between the curtained changing stalls.

Aina sat alone on the edge of the plush velvet sofa, holding a glass of iced nectar she had no intention of drinking. She pulled her blazer tightly around herself, watching the silk gowns fly across the room.

I wish I was the one trying on pretty dresses, Aina thought, a sharp pang of envy twisting in her chest. I wish I could step behind one of those curtains, throw on a sweeping lace gown, and let my hair down instead of pretending to be a brooding, flat-chested boy in a suit.

The curtain to the first stall snapped open, breaking her quiet longing.

Cleo stepped out, smoothing down the front of a shimmering emerald-green dress with a daring asymmetrical hem. She twirled, her eyes locking onto Aina. ”Alright, Travis! Give it to us straight, we need a male perspective! How does this look?”

Aina blinked, clearing her throat to adjust her voice to its usual raspy, low pitch. She appraised the dress critically, tilting her head. ”The color is stunning on your skin, Cleo, but the structure at the waist is fighting the flow of the skirt. It cinches a second too low, which shortens your legs. If the hemline were lifted half an inch, it’d look far more balanced.”

Cleo’s jaw dropped. The curtain to the second changing stall flew back, and Delilah poked her head out, staring at Aina in shock. ”Oh, wow,” Cleo breathed, turning toward the mirror to inspect her waistline. ”I didn’t know you knew fashion so well!”

Aina froze, realizing she had overdone her analysis. She offered a sheepish, nonchalant shrug. ”Why? Is it because of the way I usually dress?”

”Honestly? Yes! You used to walk around campus in clothes five sizes too big, looking like you got dressed in the dark during an earthquake. Who knew there was a stylist hiding under all that fleece?”

The room erupted into lighthearted laughter, and Aina let out a quiet sigh of relief, glad her slip-up had passed as a joke. Before the laughter could fade, the double curtains at the back of the room parted simultaneously. Beatrice and Delilah stepped out together, holding hands and striking a synchronized pose.

They were wearing nearly identical gowns made of gossamer-thin, iridescent silver fabric that caught the chandelier light like morning dew. Matching domino masks adorned with delicate filigree covered the upper halves of their faces.

”How do we look?” Beatrice asked, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically. ”Be honest!” Aina grinned, leaning back against the couch cushions. ”You two look like a literal pair of twin fairies. It’s almost terrifying how well those match.”

”Twin fairies!” Delilah gasped, clutching Beatrice’s hands tighter as they both squealed in delight. ”That’s it! This is the dress!” Beatrice declared, stomping her heel playfully. ”You are officially my date to the bash, Delilah!”

”Deal!” Delilah squealed back, and the two went off into a frantic victory dance, spinning each other around the private parlor. Just then, the main velvet curtain drew back with a slow, heavy rustle. Molly stepped out in a brand-new outfit, and the entire room fell dead silent.

She wore a breathtaking, midnight-black mermaid dress crafted from rich silk that hugged every single curve of her figure with ruthless precision. The neckline dipped into a dangerously low, plunging cleavage that stopped just above her midriff, balanced by long, sheer lace sleeves adorned with onyx crystals. She looked like a dark goddess carved from night itself.z

Aina’s jaw subtly slacked alongside the rest of the girls.

”Goddess above, Molly...” Cleo breathed out, her eyes wide. ”You look... insane.”

”Are you kidding me right now? Look at those curves!” Beatrice yelled, running over to fan Molly with her hands. ”You’re going to cause a literal riot in the ballroom!”

”You look absolutely stunning, Molly,” Aina added genuinely, unable to hold back the compliment.

Molly’’s cheeks flushed a soft, dusty pink as she looked at her reflection in the mirror, a rare, shy smile breaking through her glamorous exterior. ”Stop it, all of you! You’re trying to get to my head!”

”No way. That is the dress,” Delilah insisted, crossing her arms firmly. ”You are not putting the cowboy-themed dress back on. This is the one. End of discussion.”

”It’s the only one of its kind in the entire boutique, too,” Cleo pointed out, inspecting the designer tag. ”So you can guarantee no other girl at the Iron Fang will be wearing the same thing. And look, it comes with a matching mask.”

Molly reached into the garment bag hanging nearby, pulling out a sleek, black velvet mask with subtle obsidian studs. Attached to the same hanger was a crisp, midnight-black suit with silver stitching along the lapels.