Deviant King (Royal Elite 1)

I try to ignore the level of weird my future schoolmates must think of me and wrap my arms around Aunt. The smell of cocoa lotion and Nina Ricci’s perfume envelops me in a safe cocoon.

When she pulls back, her cobalt blue eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Aunt…?”

“I’m just so proud of you, hon. Look at you all grown up and so much like…” She trails off and wipes under her eye with the side of her forefinger.

She doesn’t have to say it for me to catch the meaning.

I look so much like my mum. While Aunt took after my ginger-haired grandfather, Mum took after my blonde grandmother.

Or that’s what I’m told.

The ache that never died resurfaces like a demon from the dark, murky water.

Time heals everything is a big fat lie.

Eight years later, I still feel the loss to my bones.

It still aches.

It still hurts.

It still brings frightening nightmares.

“Gah, I’m being so sappy on my baby’s first day at school.” Aunt Blair gives me another quick hug. “Don't forget your meds and no junk food. Go get them, hon.”

I wait until she gets into her car and shouts something at a slacking driver in front of her. Aunt has no filter when it comes to her precious time. That’s why I feel guilty when she insisted on driving me.

Once her car speeds into the distance, I resist the urge to call and tell her to come back.

Now, I’m truly on my own.

No matter how old I am, the feeling of being stranded isn’t something anyone forgets.

I stare at the massive building in front of me.

The old architecture springs an eerie, imposing feeling. Ten tall towers adorn the perimeters of the school’s main building. Three-storey high, the school sits on a large piece of land surrounded by an enormous garden that’s better suited for a palace instead of an educational establishment.

Royal Elite School is basically its name.

Located in the outskirts of London, the school was founded by King Henry IV at the beginning of the 14th century to provide education for scholars that later served in his court. After that, every king used it to cultivate his best subjects.

The school was later owned by aristocratic families and influential figures. They have the harshest and most closed-off entrance rates in the country. To this day, Royal Elite School — or RES — accepts only one per cent of the intelligent and filthy rich elite. Kids here inherit high IQ’s alongside their parents' massive bank accounts.

Most prime ministers, parliament members, and business tycoons graduated from this school.

The high-privileged education can give me a sure push into Cambridge. Aunt Blair and Uncle Jaxon studied there, and they’re my role models in everything.

My dream is theirs. Teamwork.

This is my chance to escape all the rumours in my old school and start anew.

A fresh page.

A new chapter.

A blank book.