Dislcaimer: Vampire Academy and its characters belongs to Richelle Mead

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Chapter I

He crossed the room in a measured gait. A clove cigarette hung askew from the corner of his mouth, the pack of cigs peeping out from his designer pocket. Then, he exhaled a swirl of smoke and stamped the cigarette into the ground with an Italian leather shoe. He had aristocratic features, and stylishly messy hair. A little over a year ago, I would have already been all over him. With sultry green eyes and complacent lips, there would have been no doubt in my mind about chatting him up.

Now, I wasn't so sure.

Behind the mask, he screamed of sadness. He seemed dejected somehow, almost betrayed. Something was eating him up inside, and that made me curious. Normally, I would have dismissed him as another royal - the type I was learning to stay away from - but my curiosity outweighed my common sense.

"Shirley Temple," he drawled. At first, I hadn't thought he was speaking to me. Then I realized he was probably referring to my petite frame, childish looks, and spiral blond curls. I looked up, surprised, and blushed. I was embarrassed that he'd caught me staring, then I noticed that he didn't seem to mind.

He sauntered over to me, shoving his hands into the pocket of his expensive cashmere coat. He leaned crookedly against the nearest wall, lazily crossing one foot over the other.

"My name's Mia," I told him, trying my best not to sound nervous.

"Mia," he echoed, sounding out the name on his tongue. He graced me with a small grin. "Cute."

"What are you doing here?" I asked him. The sun was at the middle of the sky, and most of the Moroi were asleep by this point. The reason I was awake was that I had decided to take a walk after a unsettling dream.

He sighed. "Trying to collect my thoughts." He tapped his temple. "Got a lot on my mind. Now what's a little girl like you doing wandering out here at this ungodly hour?"

"I'm eighteen," I told him indignantly. He laughed softly at his. "And there's nothing wrong with my size - although I may not exactly make the basketball team."

"Shirley Temple, you don't look like you'd try out for the basketball team, anyway," he said, studying me. His head was tilted to the side as he assessed me.

"Never said I wanted to," I quipped, unable to come up with anything clever.

He sighed again and extended a hand.

I shook my head. He may have been hot, but I wasn't stupid. "Not a chance."

"Not even if I told you I was royal?"

"Not even then," I said, still shaking my head.

"What if I told you-"

"Look, I don't care who you are," I said firmly. "I used to be that kind of girl, but things have changed." Once upon a time I had crossed lines and was willing to do whatever it took to elevate my social status, but not anymore. The old me was screaming that one night with whoever this royal was would have gotten me into all the best parties.

The royal looked a little taken aback. "Whoa, I wasn't asking..." He groped for the right words. "I just wanted to talk. Nothing more."

"Talk?" I asked, still unbelieving. Men like him did not scout girls out during the middle of the "night" just for some idle chatter.

He nodded. "I just got out of a bad relationship. The only place I'm looking for love right now is in my many vices."

"Your vices?"

"Come on," he said, frowning. "Everyone knows about my habits. I'm notorious for-"

"What are you talking about?"

A blank look of realization crossed his face. "You don't know who I am, do you?" he asked.

Slowly, I shook my head.

He shrugged, almost seeming satisfied. "All the better." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. He extended his arm to me again, and this time, I took it.