A dance with the pentarch kings Novel – The first rule of survival in this empire? Don’t catch the eye of the Pentarch kings. The second rule? Definitely don’t fall for the one they call The thunderbeast. But rules were never Blazar’s strong suit. Today was the day. The chosen day. The day where the chosen few stepped into the esteemed academy.
Royal Imperium Prestigia High opened its gilded gates only once a year, welcoming a select handful of students—most of them nobles, a few scholarship pawns, and every opportunistic girl hoping to catch the eye of a king. The Pentarch Kings, to be exact. Five untouchable monarchs-in-training who ruled the academy with fists of gold and tempers of wildfire. The armored guard thrust out a gauntleted hand. “Admission papers.” Blazar handed over her forged letter without blinking.
The guard’s metal-clad fingers deliberately creased the gilded edges as he examined it, the parchment crackling under his rough handling. “Spade?” His visor tilted just enough to reveal a scarred lip twisting in contempt. “That bankrupt house still breeds?” Her knuckles whitened around her bag strap, leather groaning under her grip. “Apparently well enough to earn admission.” The guard snorted through his nasal guard but stepped aside.
“Try to survive your first day, scrawny boy, without dying or getting into trouble you’ll live to regret.” His armored shoulder knocked hers as she passed. “They always weep for their mothers when the kings break them.” Blazar’s jaw clenched but her face remained stone. Behind her, the guard muttered to his companion loud enough for her to hear: “If I ever meet his mother, I’ll scold her for not thinking twice before sending a powerless whelp to this slaughterhouse.” He spat on the cobblestones.
“Some parents must have a death wish.” The other guard snorted. “Bet you five hundred Crims, he’s dead by sunset.” As Blazar stepped to the gates, the distant rumble of thunder rolled across the courtyard. Most girls came here dreaming of crowns. Blazar came to kill one. The strongest of the four. Rival to her boss. The chilled morning wind bit at her exposed skin as she stared up at the academy’s looming towers, their spires cutting into the dawn like daggers.
Somewhere in that den of monsters, a king was waiting to die. Her heart raced, but she remained still, the icy wind sweeping across the courtyard as if to test her resolve. The admission letter was still clutched tightly in her hand—an official invitation to the prestigious academy, where the rulers of the five kingdoms were trained. She had been to countless missions before, but nothing had prepared her for the reality of stepping foot into this world. “Orion,” she muttered under her breath, the alias she had been given.
With a sharp exhale she walked foward and swiped her forged student ID. Orion Spade. Noble House of Spade. A lie, like everything else about her. The bindings around her chest itched, but discomfort was nothing new. Pain was familiar. The gates open with a heavy groan, the stone archway revealing the sprawling academy grounds beyond. She was here now. And there was no turning back. She adjusted the strap of her bag, fingers tightening around the admission letter. “Just walk in. Don’t hesitate.
Don’t look back. It’s just a school full of spoiled royals, nobles and rich kids.” She took a breath—and stepped forward. The academy courtyard smelled like lightning and arrogance. Blazar adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers brushing the hidden knife beneath her sleeve. Around her, students laughed too loud, their polished boots kicking up gravel as they strutted like peacocks.