Through the vast gates of Royale, past the winding marble road and sculpted hills, stood a magnificent house—no, a palace.
It loomed like something out of a dream or a storybook, grand and proud with towers that kissed the clouds and wide balconies wrapped in ivy. Creamy white stone reflected the morning light in dazzling beams. The architecture was flawless, blending ancient royal aesthetic with cutting-edge technology. Glowing panels shimmered subtly beneath the walls, hidden enchantments or tech embedded like a heartbeat within the stone.
The gardens stretched out like an open paradise—manicured lawns, fountains shaped like mythical creatures, hedges carved into animal silhouettes, and flowers in full bloom despite the season. Birds chirped, the sky was an impossibly perfect shade of blue, and even the air looked fresher here—crisper, cleaner. This was Royale: beautiful, sterile, elite.
Inside the grand house, nestled between gold columns and pearl-tinted floors, stood a boy.
Adrian Charms.
He stood tall on a circular platform in the middle of his dressing chamber—an ornate room with full-length mirrors and polished chrome rails stacked with tailored uniforms in varying shades of white and navy. Sunlight streamed in from the arched windows, hitting his golden blonde hair, which shone like threads of sunlight spun into silk. His eyes were piercing—a clear, crystal blue that seemed to hold an entire sky within them.
He stood with his left arm raised slightly as a group of maids, dressed in slim gray uniforms, bustled around him with precision. One adjusted the angle of his collar. Another smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle in his blazer. A third polished the crest on his chest—a golden "R" surrounded by leaves and stars. Adrian stood still, barely blinking, tolerating the ritual more than embracing it.
He didn't think all of this was necessary. In fact, he hated the process.
But his parents insisted. "Perfection is expectation, Adrian. Your appearance reflects your worth," his mother would often say.
So every two days, he stood here—on the rotating platform like a doll on display—allowing people to prepare him like a prince going to war. It was exhausting. It was hollow.
But today was different.
Today wasn't about perfection. It wasn't about looking the part of royalty.
Today, the Grims were coming.
Adrian's pulse thrummed with anticipation. Ever since he'd heard about the fire at the Grim district's school, he had begged his parents to allow the displaced students to attend Royale Academy. He had pleaded, reasoned, made long speeches about unity and opportunity. For weeks, his requests were brushed off, but he persisted. Three months of meetings, quiet arguments, and cleverly worded proposals.
And finally—they agreed.
Adrian had won.
His parents were the founders of Royale Academy. Their fortune funded every corner of the school—from its gemstone ceilings to its holographic textbooks. It wasn't just a school—it was their crown jewel. If Adrian hadn't pushed so hard, the gates would have remained shut.
He didn't believe in the separation. Not like everyone else did. Not like his parents did.
He knew it was wrong.
And he knew he couldn't change hearts alone.
But maybe… maybe if the Grims came here, walked these halls, breathed the same air as the Royales—maybe something could shift. Maybe the Grims could show the Royales that they were more than what a machine once decided.
Maybe, just maybe, even his parents would begin to see the truth.
Everything was finally in motion. But there was one thing bothering him.
The dreams.
Lately, he'd been having strange, vivid dreams—ones that lingered long after he woke. Always the same. A girl, her back turned to him. Long black hair swaying in the wind. He could never see her face, but the air around her always shimmered like something divine. Every time he reached out to her—every time he tried to call her name—she disappeared, or he'd wake with a jolt and a cold sweat.
He didn't know who she was, but the dreams were becoming more frequent. More intense. And deep down, Adrian felt that somehow… she was real.
"Adrian, darling, you look…" a voice crooned from the doorway, smooth as glass. "Handsome as always."
His mother.
She swept into the room like a performer on a stage. A vision of beauty and poise, her chestnut-brown hair curled and pinned into a regal updo. Her red, body-hugging dress shimmered with faint metallic threads, and her heels clacked lightly on the marble as she circled her son.
"Thank you, Mother," Adrian said with polite stiffness. "I just want to look good for our visitors."
His mother arched a brow, a dismissive smirk playing on her lips. "Visitors I hope will leave soon," she said, her voice dripping with dramatic flair. "Don't get me wrong, sweetheart—I love that you want to help. It's adorable, really. But sometimes helping can be dangerous. What if they… transfer their ugliness to us?"
Adrian winced. "Mother… please. Let's just try to be nice."
"You're too good for your own good, Adrian," came a deeper voice from the doorway.
His father.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and charismatic, Mr. Charms entered with a presence that demanded attention. His perfectly tailored black suit gleamed subtly under the chandelier light, and every detail—from his polished shoes to his sleek watch—spoke of wealth and power.
"We're not looking to be friendly, son," he continued, crossing the room with long strides. "People like them are clever. Manipulative. Give them an inch, and they'll take the entire institution. What if they steal from us? Corrupt our students?"
Adrian's jaw tightened. His hands clenched at his sides.
He'd had these debates with them before. Over dinner. During board meetings. In passing conversations and elevator rides. Always the same tone, always the same condescension. Today was not the day to argue again.
So he looked away.
He turned to the window, his eyes scanning the horizon beyond the gates, beyond the hills, toward the road winding through the valley. The road that would soon bring the Grims to his school. To his world.
His parents' voices continued behind him, echoing like static.
But Adrian didn't hear them anymore.
All he could see was the future. The one he wanted to build.