OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER THREE: OF THE RING, THE CHAIN, AND THE COFFEE CRISIS

CHAPTER THREE: OF THE RING, THE CHAIN, AND THE COFFEE CRISIS

RIYEE'S POV

The mirror didn't lie. It didn't flatter either.

I stood in front of it, arms loose at my sides, watching a version of myself that didn't quite belong to the girl Supreme Allievo tried to bury.

My cropped blazer was obsidian black, trimmed in crimson. Cut close enough to warn anyone who thought I came unarmed. Stylized lapels kissed my collarbone, and if you looked hard enough, if you stood close enough, you'd see the faint Ardent crest stitched into the inner lining like a secret oath.

Underneath: a sleeveless white silk blouse. Button-up. Ruffled collar tip. Reinforced seams that didn't fray, even if I did. A crimson ribbon tied it all together tight, neat, and laced with more secrets than I let show. My skirt? Pleated, above the knee. Same black as the blazer. A soft line of crimson thread curled at the hem—decorative to the untrained eye. Tactical to me.

Boots? Knee-high. Buckled. Combat soles with blade grips built into the lining.

My hair ribbon? A micro-pulse disruptor. Cravat pin? A silent distress signal. The crimson teardrop earring I wore? It wasn't just pretty. It was a hidden communication line.

And the ring on my left pinky finger? It was called the Heartbeat Pinky Ring. Not just metal. Not just memory.

It was directly connected to Xythe's fracture lens ear cuff, cold, always alert, always listening and Saichel's pulse chain, that unpredictable rhythm that danced and jolted like laughter between landmines.

A bond built in silence. A connection that still breathes even when we don't speak.

"You don't look like someone who's supposed to play nice," I muttered to my reflection, tilting my head, the ring catching a glint of light as if it heard me.

And maybe it did.

Just as I stepped out, I caught a glimpse of the forum broadcast on the hallway monitors:

"ALL STUDENTS: FREE PERIOD. Faculty are in a private meeting."

"I shouldn't have left the dorm," I groaned.

I turned to go back, but two very familiar forces clamped onto my arms.

"There she is!"

"Finally, our walking symbol of chaos."

Saichel and Alexie.

They practically dragged me toward Allievo Commons like I was their prized trophy.

Unfortunately, Allievo Commons today was packed of students crammed on beanbags, floors, railings, couches.

The moment the three of us stepped inside, the air shifted. A hush rolled over the crowd. Dozens of gazes snapped to us.

We were wearing a different version of the Ardent Court uniform today. Not the same one we used yesterday at the assembly. Keryn's masterpiece, of course. She's The Architect. She designed a version that aligned to SAA's standard, yet bled Celestine's obsidian black and crimson red with every thread.

She'd said, "Let's surprise them by looking normal."

But normal was never in the Ardent Court's vocabulary.

Alexie looked like she belonged on the cover of a high-end combat fashion magazine. Her cropped blazer was sharp and form-fitting, crimson-trimmed and lethal-looking, layered over a white silk blouse with a soft ruffled collar. A crimson ribbon was tied neatly at her neck but it doubled as a cloaking display streamer. Her skirt was a sleek wrap-cut, above the knee, with a faint reflective lining that flickered if the light hit just right. Her boots? Knee-high, heeled, and tech-packed combat-grade with hidden compartments.