STRINGS BETWEEN US

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO OF MANDATORY FESTIVALS, JAIL BOOTH SCAMS, AND THE PRESIDENT

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
OF MANDATORY FESTIVALS, JAIL BOOTH SCAMS, AND THE PRESIDENT WHO NEVER REALLY LEFT

Riyee's POV

I should've stayed in my room.

Honestly, at this point, I'd rather get struck by a flying tarp than show my face again in another glitter-covered battlefield disguised as school spirit. But here I was—standing at the edge of Solencia Courtyard, watching chaos unfold like someone had turned a carnival inside out and dumped it on campus.

The 78th Arcanum Festival had officially begun.

Balloons drifted like surveillance drones. Booths stood crooked and proud. Banners screamed in fonts that should've been illegal. And somewhere in the distance, a karaoke machine was dying a slow, autotuned death.

All around me, the students buzzed like bees on caffeine.

I wasn't ready.

Not after everything. Not after the lockdown, not after the High Chamber hearing, not after being dragged into a room and slapped in front of polished shoes and sealed lips.

And definitely not after seeing him again.

Xythe Nathaniel Alcantara.

Celestine's Tactician. The quiet weapon of the Ardent Court. The boy who used to matter—and who now moved like a blade had been unsheathed in slow motion.

He hadn't spoken to me since he transferred.

Not once.

Not a word.

But I'd seen the glances. The way he slipped past conversations like he was made of smoke. He didn't come here to play prince. He came here to move pieces.

And worst of all?

I knew it.

I knew it because I told them not to come.

I told the Ardent Court not to move.

But when the video dropped into KD's hands, I knew exactly who sent it.

Xythe didn't transfer to Supreme Allievo for comfort. He transferred because the Ardent Court doesn't wait for approval. They strike. Quietly. Perfectly.

Just like now.

"Oi!"

A streamer slapped me in the face.

I blinked.

"You're late," Xylia said, already folding paper roses like she was preparing for war. Her face was glittered. Her eyes were not.

"Mandatory attendance, not mandatory enthusiasm," I muttered.

"You sulking or strategizing?" Jodie asked from behind a stack of wedding booth flyers. "Because we need help gluing candy rings to these vow cards, and I don't trust Mico with glue."

"I'm right here," Mico said, holding a hotdog in one hand and a calculator in the other. "I'm managing the budget. Glue is expensive."

"You'd budget your own funeral," Errol commented, reorganizing fake flower bouquets on the table. "Which you might need once the crowd sees the Marriage Booth schedule."

I blinked. "Wait. We still have that stupid booth?"

"Yup," Jodie chirped. "Booth of destiny, soulmates, and future therapy bills."

She held up a poll on her phone.

❝ WHO WILLMARRY RIELLE DEL RIO AT THE MARRIAGE BOOTH? ❞
Option A: The Ice President
Option B: The Celestine Prince
Option C: Me. Obviously. (submitted by Saichel)
Option D: Whoever survives the battle