Chapter 75: Principal Riven Solen

Words : 1135 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

Chapter 75: Principal Riven Solen The classroom slowly emptied. Chairs scraped. Bags zipped. Students filed out, some still whispering about the simulated exams. Others were already planning team strategies or gossiping about the trio—Ethan and the Moonshade twins. Mr. Halden stayed behind. He watched the last student walk out, waited until the soft click of the door closed, then turned off the projector and packed up his tablet. The lights returned to full brightness, bathing the room in quiet stillness. He stood there for a moment, exhaling softly through his nose, then made his way toward the hallway. The teachers’ corridor was quieter than usual. Most faculty were either in meetings or on break, and only the faint hum of wall panels and cooling systems filled the air. But whenever a teacher or a student passed by, they would always say ’hello’ or nod and Mr. Halden responded back with a smile. He walked steadily down the hall until he reached a dark wood door with a black plaque: Principal’s Office He paused, then gave three firm knocks. Seconds passed. Then came a voice from the other side—calm, crisp, and cold. "Enter." He pushed open the door. The office was modern, sleek, and spotless. A long desk sat at the far end, stacked with organized papers and a silver data tablet. Behind it sat a woman with long jet-black hair tied into a tight bun. Her glasses rested just at the bridge of her nose, and her expression was unreadable—like carved glass. She didn’t look up as he stepped in. Principal Riven Solen. The coldest woman on campus—and one of the most efficient. She wore a crisp, charcoal-gray office suit that hugged her body like it had been tailored with precision. The blazer was buttoned at the center, just tight enough to emphasize the curve of her waist. Beneath it, her white dress shirt strained slightly around her chest—the fabric pulled snug across her full bust, the faintest crease forming between the buttons as if the shirt was one deep breath away from giving in. Her pencil skirt was just as unforgiving, hugging her hips and thighs so closely that the outline of her figure was undeniable. The hem stopped just above the knee, revealing toned calves and smooth stockings that completed the formal yet striking look. She sat with perfect posture, legs crossed neatly, hands resting atop a slim leather folder. There was nothing overly showy about her outfit—but every detail was sharp, clean, and fitted just right. Combined with her icy expression and the quiet command in her presence, it made her almost impossible to look away from. Anyone else might have hesitated under that sharp presence. But Mr. Halden had worked with her for years. He was used to it. "Ms. Solen," he said with a polite nod. "I came to report something." She lifted her eyes slowly from her tablet. "Is it about Lucas Grayson?" He blinked. "Yes. He wasn’t present in class today. I came to ask if you knew why." She set the tablet down and folded her hands neatly. "His father picked him up this morning. Personal driver. No security detail." "I see." "He also contacted the school. Said Lucas wouldn’t be attending for the next few days." Mr. Halden gave a thoughtful nod. "Understood. Do you require any formal notice from the family?" "No need. I’ve already filed it." Her eyes met his again. "Is that all?" He nodded once. "That’s all. Thank you, Principal Solen." She gave a small nod and returned to her work without another word. Mr. Halden turned and quietly exited the office, pulling the door closed behind him. The room was still for a few seconds. Papers rustled faintly as Principal Solen flipped to the next document in her file. She picked up her pen. Then stopped. She felt something. A presence. Not hostile. Not even loud. But definitely there. Her gaze drifted to the leather couch in the corner of her office. Someone was sitting there. She hadn’t heard the door open. And she hadn’t sensed any movement. But now—there she was. A woman with dark violet hair and sharp, magnetic eyes sat calmly on the edge of the seat. Her posture was relaxed, but her aura wasn’t. It was the kind of presence that silenced everything. Like gravity itself tilted toward her. Velmora Nyx. The captain. The shadow Lilith trusted with her deepest tasks. Principal Solen’s breath caught for only half a second. Then she stood. She walked around her desk—quick but graceful—and stopped a few feet in front of the seated woman. Her hands went to her stomach, folding neatly over her lower abdomen. Then she bowed. Deeply. "Captain," she said. Velmora’s eyes flicked up, studying her with cool interest. "At ease," she said simply. Solen rose back up; eyes still lowered in respect. "I wasn’t expecting you, Captain." "I wasn’t planning to come," Velmora replied, her voice smooth and calm. "But I noticed Lucas Grayson didn’t appear today. I had to check." Principal Solen nodded. "Yes, ma’am. He was taken home by his father. The Grayson family called to excuse him." Velmora’s eyes narrowed just a touch. "No extra detail? No noise?" "None." Another pause. Then Velmora leaned back slightly. Her gaze wandered toward the large bookshelf at the far end of the room. It was filled with sealed files, old reports, and locked drawers. "Has anyone come asking about him?" she asked quietly. Solen shook her head. "No. The students have noticed, of course. But no formal inquiries. Not even from his friends." "Good." Velmora crossed one leg over the other. "That means the pressure worked." Principal Solen didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. She knew better than to ask what "pressure" meant. Or who had applied it. But deep down, she had a feeling it hadn’t been subtle. Velmora continued, "Make sure the faculty doesn’t look into this any further. No records get flagged. No additional reports. Understood?" "Yes, Captain." "Good." Silence settled again. For a second, Solen thought Velmora might say something else. But instead, the woman simply turned her head toward the window. The glass shimmered faintly with sunrays—but her reflection didn’t appear. And when Solen blinked— Velmora was gone. No sound. No warning. Just... gone. The couch was empty. The office felt normal again. And yet, a strange stillness lingered in the air. Like the shadows hadn’t quite caught up with her absence. Principal Solen stood there for a moment, then slowly walked back to her desk and sat down. She picked up her pen again. But before she resumed writing, her fingers paused on the page. A soft smile touched the corner of her lips. A rare smile. Then she flipped to the next file and continued working like nothing happened.

Chapter 75: Principal Riven Solen

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