Ephemeral

by evanlevan

The mix of curiosity and subtle challenge in Vi's eyes was almost overwhelming, drawing Caitlyn in like a moth to a flame. In a low, flirtatious tone that was almost a purr, Vi said, "You know, if you wanted to spend more time with me, you could've just asked, Cupcake." Caitlyn's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and she fumbled for a response. C-Cupcake!

28. It's A Curse to be Your Friend

🎶: Cursed - King Princess

Riven groaned as consciousness dragged her back into the waking world. Her head pounded mercilessly, each throb a cruel reminder of the whiskey she'd consumed the night before. She squinted against the faint morning light filtering into the room, her eyelids heavy and uncooperative.

Her body felt stiff, her mouth dry, and for a moment, she lay there, willing the pain in her skull to subside. Slowly, fragments of the previous night began to resurface—the party, the drinks, the balcony. The Tariost house. Shit, I'm still here, she thought, her brows knitting together as she attempted to piece it all together.

She shifted slightly, the fabric beneath her unfamiliar. It wasn't her bed. That much was clear. Riven cracked an eye open, taking in the room. The large, opulent furnishings confirmed her location—definitely still at the Tariost house. But it wasn't until she turned her head to the side that her breath caught.

Yunarin. Sleeping peacefully beside her, her face soft and serene in the morning light.

Riven's heart leapt into her throat, and she shot upright, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of pain through her skull. "Fuck," she hissed under her breath, clutching her temples with both hands. But the hangover took a backseat to the panic bubbling in her chest. Her gaze darted down to herself, taking inventory. Her blazer and turtleneck were gone, leaving her in just her bra and pants. Her belt was still fastened. That was a good sign, right? Her eyes snapped to Yuna.

She was lying on her side, the quilt draped just below her hips. Her bare legs were tangled in the sheets, her upper body clad only in a simple bra. Her breathing was even, her lips slightly parted in sleep, her hair a tousled mess against the pillow.

Riven swallowed hard, her pulse racing as her mind scrambled for answers. What the fuck happened last night?

She reached out hesitantly, her hand hovering over Yuna's shoulder before pulling back. "No, no, no," she muttered to herself. "Don't wake her. Don't do anything stupid."

Her gaze flickered back to her own body, double-checking her clothes. Bra, pants, intact. She sighed in partial relief before glancing back at Yuna. Her stomach twisted at the sight. Yuna looked… vulnerable. Peaceful. And utterly oblivious to the storm brewing in Riven's head.

Did I do something? Did we…?

Her memory was a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces, the edges blurred by alcohol and exhaustion. She vaguely remembered the balcony, the overwhelming tension, and… Yuna. Coming closer, her breath warm, her eyes locked on Riven's.

And then they kissed.

Hard. Desperate. Riven's heart lurched as the memory snapped into place, vivid and electric. Yuna's hands had cupped her face, pulling her in like she couldn't bear the distance between them. Riven had responded without hesitation, their lips colliding in a clash of hunger and heat.

The kiss wasn't gentle. It was raw, chaotic—fueled by alcohol and emotions neither of them had been ready to confront. Riven could almost feel the press of Yuna's body against hers again, the faint taste of whiskey lingering between them, the way her hands had clutched at Yuna's waist, desperate and unthinking.

Her stomach twisted as the realization hit her, the weight of the moment crashing over her like a tidal wave. Oh, fuck. We kissed. And now, here they were. In the same bed. Half-naked. The panic rising in her chest was almost suffocating, her breaths shallow as she tried to make sense of the memory.

Riven rubbed her hands over her face, groaning softly. "Get it together," she whispered. She needed answers, but waking Yuna felt like crossing a line she wasn't ready to face. Instead, she sat there, perched on the edge of the bed, trying to decide whether to run, stay, or bury her head in the sand until the answers came to her.

The soft rustling of sheets made her freeze, her breath catching in her throat. She turned her head slowly, half-hoping Yuna was still asleep. But Yuna stirred, her eyes fluttering open, hazy with the remnants of sleep. She blinked a few times, her gaze landing on Riven, and her brows furrowed slightly.

Riven's heart stopped. Panic surged through her as Yuna's groggy gaze met hers, and without thinking, Riven bolted upright, scanning the room in desperation. Her turtleneck. Where the fuck is my fucking turtleneck?!

Her eyes darted around, her breath shallow as the room seemed to shrink around her. And then she saw it—a crumpled heap of fabric on the floor, just in front of the bed. She slid off the mattress, moving as quietly as she could, wincing as the cold floor met her bare feet. Grabbing the turtleneck, she straightened and clutched it to her chest, her thoughts racing. She turned back to glance at Yuna, who was still lying there, blinking slowly as if trying to piece together her own version of events.

"Riven?" Yuna's voice was soft, sleep-laden, and utterly disarming.

Riven froze mid-step, her pulse thundering in her ears. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to explain why she was half-dressed, why Yuna was even in bed with her, or how they'd ended up half naked like this.

She gripped the turtleneck tighter, her knuckles white against the fabric. "Uh… morning," she muttered awkwardly, her voice raspier than usual.

Yuna propped herself up slightly, the quilt slipping down further as she squinted at Riven. "What… happened last night?"

Riven's stomach twisted into knots. "I was kind of hoping you'd tell me," she admitted, pulling the turtleneck over her head in a flurry of movements, desperate to feel less exposed. Her mind raced, fragments of the night before swirling like a chaotic storm, none of them offering the clarity she needed. The kiss. The bed. The drinks. What had happened after the kiss?

Yuna barely opened her eyes, her hand moving to press against her temple as she winced. "Ow," she muttered, her voice groggy and strained.

Riven's chest tightened, her instinct to panic momentarily overshadowed by concern. "Are you okay?" she asked quickly, stepping closer to the bed, her turtleneck still slightly askew from her rushed attempt to put it on. "Do you… need something? Water? Painkillers?"

Yuna groaned softly, her fingers massaging her temple as she tried to sit up straighter. "Head's pounding," she murmured. "Feel like someone ran me over with a hex truck."

Riven nodded, her anxiety momentarily pushed aside as she scanned the room. "Hang on. I'll get you some water or…" She spotted a half-empty bottle of water on the nightstand and grabbed it, unscrewing the cap and handing it to Yuna.

Yuna accepted it with a weak smile. "Thank you…" she said, her voice still raspy as she took a slow sip. She leaned back against the headboard, the quilt shifting slightly as she adjusted her position.

Riven lingered awkwardly by the bed, one hand rubbing the back of her neck. "Do you… need anything else? Painkillers?"

Yuna shook her head slightly, her expression softening despite her obvious discomfort. "No, I'm okay. Just… give me a minute."

Riven nodded, retreating a step, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. The concern in her chest didn't quite eclipse the lingering tension from the sight of Yunarin in her bra, the quilt barely covering her legs. Her own heart pounded harder than she wanted to admit. Her gaze flickered briefly, involuntarily, tracing the smooth expanse of Yuna's skin.

The way the soft morning light highlighted her collarbone, the gentle curve of her perfectly shaped, supple breasts… what the fuck. Riven's throat tightened, and she could feel the heat creeping up her neck, spreading to her ears. Riven clenched her jaw as she forced herself to look away, what the fuck is wrong with you?! The realization hit her like a slap, and she took a sharp breath, her feet moving almost on their own. She turned quickly, striding toward the opposite side of the bed and planting herself there, putting as much distance between them as the room allowed.

She ran a hand through her short hair, her fingers trembling slightly. Focus, focus. She's hungover, and you're just… here. Nothing happened. Probably. Maybe. Her head felt like it was spinning again, but this time it wasn't from the whiskey. And then it hit her—a sharp, throbbing pain at her temples, like a cruel reminder from her own body. Riven winced, her hand shooting up to cradle her forehead.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, the hangover making itself known with a vengeance. She staggered slightly, gripping the edge of the nearby dresser for balance. The dull ache radiated through her skull, mingling with the mess of emotions already swirling inside her. Of course. As if this situation couldn't get any worse.

Yuna shifted under the quilt, her brow furrowing as her eyes fluttered fully open. She glanced down at herself, her expression shifting from confusion to alarm when she registered her state of undress.

"Erm…" she started, her voice unsteady, "where are my clothes…?"

Riven froze, her breath catching in her throat as Yuna's wide, panicked eyes met hers. The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Then came the follow-up, barely a whisper: "Did we…?"

Her voice cracked, and Riven's stomach sank as she watched Yuna's eyes start to glisten, unshed tears gathering at the corners.

"No, no, no," Riven blurted out, raising her hands defensively. She stepped closer to the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. "We didn't—I mean, I don't think we did—no, I'm sure we didn't."

Yuna bit her lip, her gaze flickering downward as she clutched the quilt tighter to her chest. "Then why am I…?" Her voice trailed off, the weight of her emotions threatening to spill over.

"I don't know," Riven admitted, her voice softer now, trying to keep the panic out of her tone. "I woke up like this too, and I'm still wearing my pants, okay? Nothing happened. I wouldn't…"

Yuna stared at her, her eyes glistening, the tears threatening to spill over as she bit down harder on her lip. Riven straightened her posture, her expression hardening into something resolute. Her usual sharp edges were softened by the weight of the moment, but her tone was unwavering.

"I would never take advantage of you like that."

Her piercing gaze locked onto Yuna's, holding it as if to drive the point home. For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint sound of their breathing. Yuna's lip trembled, and her eyes darted away, as if she were trying to process Riven's words, trying to believe them.

Yuna exhaled shakily, blinking rapidly as she wiped at her eyes. The tears didn't fall, though they clung stubbornly to her lashes. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Could you… help me get a robe at least…?"

Riven nodded briskly, not trusting herself to say anything more. She immediately walked over to the closet, pulled the door open, and grabbed the first thing she saw—a white silk robe hanging neatly on a hook. Turning back toward the bed, she caught sight of Yuna's clothes out of the corner of her eye. They were draped haphazardly over the back of a chair near the sliding doors to the balcony.

Riven paused, robe in hand, her brow furrowing slightly as she pieced it together. She approached the bed and held out the robe, her gaze flicking between Yuna and the chair. "Here," she said simply, offering the robe first before nodding toward the clothes. "Looks like your stuff's over there by the balcony."

Yuna followed Riven's nod, her cheeks flushing faintly when she spotted her clothes. She hesitated before taking the robe, clutching it tightly to her chest. "Thank you…" she murmured, her voice still soft.

Riven stepped back, giving her space, her mind racing with questions she didn't dare ask aloud. The sight of the dress stirred something in her memory—a fleeting, hazy image of Yuna unzipping her own dress to… Her thoughts hit a wall, the details slipping through her grasp. She shut her eyes instinctively, as if the motion could block out the uncertainty clawing at her.

What. the fuck. happened.

She felt her heart pounding harder now, doubt creeping in like a slow, suffocating fog. We didn't… right? But the memory—blurry, fractured, and incomplete—offered no reassurance. Yuna's state of undress, her own missing turtleneck, and that half-remembered moment of Yuna's dress falling away all pointed to… something.

Her mind wandered down dangerous paths, imagining the possibility of at least some heavy petting, her fingers brushing over bare skin, the heat of Yuna's breath against her neck—

Riven shook her head abruptly, forcing the thought away. No. Don't go there. You'd remember. You would've stopped it.

Wouldn't she…?

She risked a glance back at Yuna, who had slipped the robe over her shoulders and was tying the sash around her waist with slow, deliberate movements. Yuna looked embarrassed but composed, her gaze focused on the floor as if she, too, was trying to piece the night together.

"For what it's worth…" Yuna's voice broke the silence, soft and hesitant, but steady enough to make Riven freeze. Yuna's eyes remained on the floor, her hands fidgeting with the knot of the sash. "…I'm not sorry I… kissed you."

Riven blinked, her breath catching in her throat as the words hit her. She turned fully toward Yuna, her eyes widening in surprise. "You…" she started, but her voice faltered, unable to complete the thought.

Yuna finally lifted her gaze, her dark eyes meeting Riven's with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "I just… I don't know what happened after, but that moment… I'm not sorry for it." She bit her lip, her cheeks tinged with color. "I wanted to kiss you. I've wanted to for a while."

Riven swallowed hard, like a non-existent hard lump in her throat was stuck and she finally took a deep breath. Suddenly, she felt drunk all over again, her head spinning as if the weight of Yuna's words had knocked her off balance. The kiss—she could still feel it, the heat, the way it had consumed her entirely. And now, hearing Yuna say it aloud, admitting it hadn't been a mistake…

"Yuna…" she said softly, unsure of how to respond, unsure if she even could.

Yuna's lips curled into a faint, nervous smile. "It's okay if you don't feel the same," she said quickly, her voice trembling slightly. "I just… thought you should know."

Riven felt the floor shift beneath her, the weight of Yuna's words pulling her in a dozen directions at once. For the first time in a long time, she was utterly, completely speechless.

-୨ ୧-

🎶: …Will It Ever Be The Same - Young Summer

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Caitlyn lay on her side, her head resting on Vi's chest, her arm draped lazily across Vi's stomach. Her breath was steady and even, a gentle rhythm that matched the peaceful rise and fall of Vi's chest.

Vi's arm was wrapped protectively around Caitlyn's shoulders, her hand resting lightly on her back as if even in sleep, she couldn't help but hold her close with their legs tangled under the quilt. Vi stirred slightly, her fingers brushing against Caitlyn's bare shoulder as a soft sigh escaped her lips. She was still lost in the haze of sleep, her face relaxed and unguarded, her head tilted back against the pillow.

But then came the faint, persistent vibration from the nightstand.

It started as a low buzzing, barely registering in Vi's half-conscious state, but as it continued, her brows furrowed, and she stirred more fully. Her hand twitched against Caitlyn's back as the sound pulled her from the warmth of sleep. She blinked groggily, her eyes barely opening as her other hand fumbled blindly toward the nightstand. The vibration didn't stop, and with a soft groan, she forced herself to shift away from Caitlyn to free her other hand, careful not to disturb Caitlyn too much.

"What the hell…?" Vi muttered under her breath, her voice raspy with sleep as her fingers finally found her phone. She squinted at the screen, the brightness making her wince as she tried to make sense of the incoming call or notification.

Caitlyn stirred faintly against her, mumbling something incoherent before going back to sleep. A small smile tugged at Vi's lips despite the interruption, her gaze lingering on Caitlyn for a moment before turning back to the phone in her hand.

Vi blinked at the screen, her grogginess making it hard to focus on the bright text. As her vision adjusted, the notifications became clear—message after message flooding the family group chat. She groaned softly, her thumb swiping to unlock the phone.

Powder: VI! WAKE UP ALREADY! THIS IS CRAZY!
Ekko: Seriously dude, pick up your phone.
Powder: YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS. RIGHT. NOW!
Mylo: Vi, seriously, this is big. Like, Shimmer drug bust big.
Claggor: Um, Vi. You ok?
Powder: HELLOOOO?
Ekko: It's everywhere, Vi. We're trying to figure it out, but this… it's bad.
Mylo: I'm not kidding. You're gonna freak out.
Powder: VI. CHECK YOUR PHONE. PLEASE.
Ekko: This is shit bad—really bad.

Vi sighed, rubbing her temple with her free hand as she scrolled through the messages. It was typical Powder, her texts chaotic and urgent. Ekko's messages weren't much better—just slightly less caps lock.

"What the hell are they on about now?" she mumbled, more to herself than to Caitlyn, blissfully unaware. Scrolling back up, Vi tried to make sense of the chatter, her sleepy brain struggling to piece it together. Something about a video, someone's name… She frowned, her thumb hovering over a message from Powder with an ominous attachment: "LOOK AT THIS!"

Her stomach sank, a bad feeling settling over her as she hesitated to open it. Her stomach sank, a bad feeling settling over her as she hesitated to open it. Taking a deep breath, Vi tapped the attachment, her thumb trembling slightly. The screen loaded for a second before the video started playing, the bright colors and loud music immediately familiar.

Her eyes widened as the scene unfolded—her and Caitlyn. At last night's fucking party. Caitlyn was pressed up against her, hands clutching at Vi's shoulders as they danced together. The video was grainy, shot from an angle that made it look far more provocative than it actually was. But the way Caitlyn's hips swayed against Vi's, the way Vi had her hands resting dangerously low on Caitlyn's back—there was no mistaking how it looked.

And it was everyfuckingwhere.

A banner across the screen displayed a flood of comments and likes, the HexGram logo flashing in the corner. The caption read: "Kiramman's Heiress Gone Wild: From Hollaran Scandal to Party Antics—Caught Grinding with Campus' Most Notorious Rebel "

Vi's thumb hovered over the username that had posted the video—a jumble of random numbers and letters, nothing recognizable. She tapped on it, the page loading slowly, her heart pounding in her ears. The profile was empty, no posts except for this video, but the follower list told her everything she needed to know. Piltover U students. Almost every fucking one of them.

Her jaw clenched as she scrolled through the usernames, each one adding to the storm of rage and panic brewing inside her. Was it Seraphine? No, she wouldn't… would she? Maybe it was some asshole from Sam's party. Or—fuck—some other motherfucking student who thought it'd be hilarious to fuck up my life.

The possibilities were endless, and the anonymity of the account only made it worse. Vi could feel the heat rising to her face, her fists clenching tightly around the phone.

Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! The scream tore through her mind, a silent explosion of frustration and helplessness. She wanted to throw the phone across the room, to punch something, to do something, but instead, she just sat there, her body tense and rigid, staring at the screen.

Beside her, Caitlyn stirred faintly, letting out a soft murmur that brought Vi crashing back to the present. She locked the phone, her hands trembling slightly as she placed it back on the nightstand, trying to steady herself before Caitlyn woke up.

Do I wake her up? She needs to know… but shit, not like this. The thought gnawed at her, her chest tightening with every passing second. Before she could decide, Caitlyn stirred again, her brow furrowing slightly as her eyes fluttered open. She let out a soft, sleepy hmm, her gaze unfocused as she shifted against Vi's side.

"Vi?" Caitlyn murmured, her voice low and drowsy, barely audible over the pounding in Vi's ears. She blinked up at her, her dark eyes still heavy with sleep.

Vi froze, her stomach knotting as Caitlyn propped herself up slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"What's wrong?" Caitlyn asked, her voice a little clearer now, though her expression remained concerned. Vi hesitated, her mind racing. She didn't want to ruin the quiet moment, but there was no avoiding it now.

"Uh…" Vi started, her voice hoarse. She rubbed the back of her neck, searching for the right words. "There's… something you should see."

Caitlyn's brows knit together, the concern in her gaze sharpening as she sat up more fully. "What happened?"

Vi grabbed the phone from the nightstand, hesitating for a beat before unlocking it and holding it out to Caitlyn.

"This," she said simply, her jaw tight, her voice low. Caitlyn took the phone, her sleep-fogged mind sharpening as her eyes focused on the screen. The video started to play, the music and laughter from the party unmistakable. And then she saw it.

"Oh my fucking god," Caitlyn whispered, her voice trembling as her hands gripped the phone tightly. Her chest rose and fell in uneven bursts, panic flooding her system as the full weight of the video's implications hit her like a freight train.

She sat up fully, her lips parting but no words coming out.

"Vi," she managed after a moment, her voice breaking. "This… this is bad. This is really bad."

"I know," Vi muttered, her own jaw clenching as she avoided Caitlyn's wide, panicked eyes.

Caitlyn's hands began to shake as she replayed the video, as if seeing it again might change the reality of it. "How—who—" she stammered, her thoughts racing too fast to keep up. "This can't… my family… oh my god, Vi, my mother is going to see this!"

"I know," Vi said again, louder this time, her voice steady but strained. She reached out, gently prying the phone from Caitlyn's trembling hands and locking the screen. "I'm trying to figure it out, okay? But right now, you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Caitlyn's voice pitched higher, her panic spilling over. "This is my entire life, Vi! My reputation, my family's name—this could ruin everything!"

Vi's jaw tightened, finally took a look at Caitlyn, and felt her heart sinking at the sight of Cait's trembling hands and tear-brimmed eyes. She wanted to say something, fucking anything, to fix this, but the words stuck in her throat.

"Cait…" she started, her voice quieter than usual. She hesitated, her brows furrowing deeply. "I… I didn't think this would happen."

Her shoulders stiffened, and she let out a sharp breath, forcing herself to meet Caitlyn's panicked gaze. "This isn't on you, okay? It's not your fault." Her voice wavered. Vi's mind was racing, searching for a solution, but all she could feel was the knot in her chest growing tighter. "I should've been paying more attention last night," she admitted, running a hand through her hair. "I should've—fuck—I don't know. Done something different."

Her expression hardened, but not with anger—more like determination buried under a thin layer of frustration. "But we'll fix this, Cait. I'll fix this," she said firmly, her voice low but steady now.

Caitlyn's panic didn't ease entirely, but her gaze softened slightly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something. Vi leaned back slightly, her hands resting on her thighs as she took a deep breath, trying to regain her footing. She couldn't let this spiral any further—not for Caitlyn's sake and not for her own. But even as she steeled herself, a flicker of doubt lingered in her chest, one she shoved down as hard as she could.

Caitlyn pushed the quilt off her legs and swung them over the side of the bed, her breathing still uneven as she scrambled toward the closet.

"Cait?" Vi asked, sitting up straighter, her brows furrowing.

Caitlyn ignored her, yanking the closet doors open and rifling through the neatly arranged clothes. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out a crisp blouse and a fitted blazer, tossing them onto the bed before searching for slacks.

"Cait, what are you doing?" Vi asked again, more firmly this time, swinging her legs off the bed and standing.

Caitlyn didn't look at her as she grabbed a pair of flats from the bottom of the closet and set them beside the bed.

"Fixing this," she muttered, her tone clipped.

"Fixing it?" Vi echoed, her confusion giving way to frustration. "Cait, you just woke up, you're freaking out, and now you're—"

Caitlyn paused, gripping the edge of the closet door as if grounding herself. She finally turned to face Vi, her expression sharp, her dark eyes brimming with determination. "I don't have the luxury of freaking out, Vi. Not when this could destroy my family's name. Not when it could ruin everything I've worked for."

Vi stared at her, stunned by the sudden shift in Caitlyn's demeanor. "You don't even know who posted it yet," Vi pointed out, her voice softer now.

Caitlyn's gaze flicked to her, lingering for a moment before she shook her head, muttering under her breath as she pulled on the blouse. "I can't just sit here, Vi. I need to do something."

-୨ ୧-

🎶: Bittersweet Symphony - Marc Scibilia

Cassandra Kiramman woke to the soft chime of her alarm clock, its gentle tone cutting through the stillness of the room. She opened her eyes slowly, the golden rays of morning spilling through the tall windows of her elegantly decorated bedroom.

"Lovely morning it is," she murmured to herself, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she stretched gracefully beneath the silk sheets. The city of Piltover was alive with its usual hum of efficiency, a backdrop to the life she had meticulously curated.

Beside her, Tobias Kiramman remained asleep, his breathing steady. His gray hair was slightly tousled, and the faint creases on his face softened in the morning light. Cassandra glanced at him fondly for a brief moment before slipping out of bed.

Her feet slid into plush slippers as she rose, her movements unhurried but deliberate so as not to disturb him. Tobias stirred slightly but didn't wake, mumbling something incoherent before settling deeper into the comfort of the bed. Cassandra adjusted the quilt over him with a practiced hand, ensuring he remained warm, before turning her attention to her morning.

She pulled on a satin robe and tied it neatly at her waist before making her way to the adjoining bathroom. The faint scent of lavender lingered from the oils her staff had placed the night before, mingling with the crisp freshness of the new day. Cassandra glanced toward the bedroom one last time after finishing her morning routine, noting Tobias's still-sleeping form. She smiled faintly before leaving the room, her footsteps silent on the polished floor.

By the time she descended the grand staircase to the breakfast room, a perfectly brewed cup of black tea awaited her, along with a neatly arranged plate of toast, poached eggs, and fresh fruit. She sipped her tea, scanning the headlines on her tablet with a critical eye, ensuring she was up-to-date on the morning's news.

Halfway through her meal, the sharp trill of her phone broke the tranquility. Cassandra picked it up from the table, glancing at the caller ID. Edmund. Her secretary. She tapped to answer, bringing the phone to her ear. "Yes, Edmund?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Kiramman," came the smooth, professional voice on the other end. "I must apologize for the early disturbance, but there is an issue concerning Miss Caitlyn that requires your immediate attention."

Cassandra's smile faded, her brow furrowing as she set her teacup down carefully. "What sort of issue?" she asked, her tone remaining calm.

"A video, ma'am," Edmund said cautiously. "It has begun circulating on HexGram, and I regret to inform you that it is already garnering significant attention. I believe it would be prudent for you to review it personally."

Her posture straightened, her mind already racing through potential scenarios. "Forward the material to my personal device at once," she instructed crisply. "I'll review it immediately."

"Of course, Mrs. Kiramman," Edmund replied with precision. "You should receive it momentarily."

Cassandra ended the call, her jaw tightening as she unlocked her tablet. A lovely morning, indeed—though it seemed that was about to change.

END OF CHAPTER FIFTEEN