STRINGS BETWEEN US

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX OF LOCKED GATES, LOUD WHISPERS, AND A CURFEW THEY COULDN'T OU

I wanted to speak. To stop it. To scream. But my voice had disappeared somewhere between his confession and that smirk. Why didn't he fight it? Why did he just sit there—so calm, so ready—like he'd planned for this? I wanted to believe it was bravery. But deep down? It felt like surrender.

Like he'd decided long before we walked into this room that he was going to lose something today. 

Then—

"Naturally."

KD? Cool as ever. "Understood."

No hesitation. No crack in his voice.
It was terrifying—how little he flinched.

The meeting ended.

But everything else? Just beginning.

We barely reached the courtyard before the aftershocks started. And from above—high on the upper landing of Imperial Wing—The High Chamber Office—she was already there.

Bianchi.

Watching like a queen who didn't just remove a rival.
She replaced him.

"Khaizer's suspended?"
"During the Arcanum Festival?!"
"SAA's going to fall apart without him."

Their voices blurred into one long roar of panic. I could barely make out the words. They all felt like noise in a room already caving in.

KD was gone. Just like that.

And somehow, the entire academy could already feel the gap he left behind.

And me? I stood in the middle of it—like a wire about to snap.

Because no one asked why he did it. They only asked what would break next.

Booths unmanned. Committee heads panicking. Council aides scrambling—schedules tangled, permits missing, phones glued to panicked ears.

And Lucian? "Not my jurisdiction," someone muttered nearby, echoing his dismissal.

"I only handle council legislation, not festival operations."

The panic wasn't subtle anymore. It was boiling over.

"They can't cancel it, right?"
"How can they not? Major events need presidential clearance!"
"We're going to be the laughingstock of the region if this festival crashes."

And just like that, The High Chamber—the empire KD built in silence—was beginning to crack.

I stood in the eye of it. Still. Useless.

And even then—they looked at me.
Not at Bianchi. Not at the council who signed the order.
At me.

Like I'd cut the last wire holding it together.
Like I'd wanted this.

I didn't move. Couldn't. Because deep down, I wasn't sure if they were wrong.

Their glances weren't subtle. Like guilt could be passed down in glares and whispers. Like my silence meant admission.

But I did walk through that gate. I did follow him into the dark.

I didn't even realize I had stopped walking until—

"Rielle!" 

Jodie's voice—panicked, too loud for comfort.

She ran toward me with Errol and Xylia behind her, phone gripped in her fist like it was the only thing still real.

"Do you even know what's happening right now?!"

Before I could answer, the screen was already shoved in my face. I didn't have to scroll. Just reading the headlines was enough.

Khaizer Dylan Dela Vega: Suspended.
SAA President Disqualified from Arcanum Clearance.
#CurfewCrisis #FallOfThePresident #PresidentialPrivileges

His name was everywhere. His title stripped. His reputation dragged through dirt we couldn't clean fast enough.

"The festival committee's freaking out," Jodie choked. "They begged Lucian to step in but—"

"He said it's not his job," she said, almost laughing. "He said this is Khaizer's mess."

Errol looked as if he'd been punched. "They're saying the whole festival might get cancelled."

Xylia was colder than usual. Measured. "Some event leads are already pulling out. They're calling it cursed."

Cursed.

That word sank into my bones.

Maybe that's what I am. What we are. Not firestarters. Just bad omens.

"I didn't mean for this to happen—" I said, barely above a whisper.

"But it did!" Jodie snapped, loud enough for everyone around to stop pretending not to listen.

She wasn't angry.

Just terrified.

And I didn't blame her.

How could I? When I was scared too?

This wasn't just about KD anymore. It wasn't about the gate. Or the scandal.

This was about everything.

Everyone.

Every student who spent sleepless nights crafting booths, designing posters, counting funds peso by peso just to make this one moment perfect.

And we ruined it.

"What now, Rielle?" Jodie asked again. Softer this time. "What happens to everything?"

I don't know. I don't know how to fix something I never meant to break. I couldn't answer. I wasn't sure I could breathe.

Above us—high above, out of sight, but not out of reach—I could feel it.

Her.

Bianchi Madriaga.

The Queen who didn't swing the blade—but made sure everyone saw the blood.

And then—the whispers changed. Not from speculation. But from the way the crowd reacted. The silence didn't grow louder. It bent.

Because of him. KD.

He walked toward us like he still owned the world that had just rejected him. Even stripped of power, he was untouchable. Unbothered. He didn't wear a crown anymore.

He didn't need to. He moved like he'd never needed it in the first place. People parted. Not out of respect. Out of fear.

Is this what he becomes without the rules? Without the boundaries? 

He wasn't even looking at them. Just me. His eyes were locked on mine. And it felt like the whole world held its breath.

He looked at me like I was a question he'd already answered.

But I wasn't sure I liked the answer.

Because the KD walking toward me? This wasn't the boy who brushed his knuckles against mine under moonlight. This wasn't the one who protected me from shadows.

This was the shadow. His presence wrapped around the space like something alive.

Too sharp. Too cold. His eyes weren't frost anymore. They were steel.

I used to think cold was his worst state. I was wrong. This? This is what happens when frost becomes blade.

I knew him once. I was sure of it.

Now?

Now, I wasn't sure he'd let anyone close enough to know him again.

Then, four words. "Come with me."

Simple. But not soft. Not even a request.

It was a sentence. An inevitability. And the air? Froze.

Because I knew—if I followed, I wasn't just walking beside him.

I was stepping into the fire.