Chapter 26: The Replication
Scene: King Attends the Calming Pill Challenge at the Academy
The royal car halted at the steps of the Capital Academy's grand amphitheater. Whispers surged like a tide—King Albanian had arrived. His appearance at a student-level challenge was unprecedented, enough to halt the proceedings mid-announcement.
Clad in his signature obsidian suit, his expression grim, King swept through the parted crowd like a dark storm. His presence silenced the chatter. Even the instructors stood.
Wayne followed closely behind, keeping the curious at bay. The judges—renowned herbalists and medicinal scholars—rose from their seats in respect.
King offered no words as he settled in the VIP observation booth above. His hawk-like gaze swept the competing sides. His insomnia-worn eyes were sharp, scanning faces until—he froze.
There.
Standing slightly to the side of her team, masking tension with quiet dignity, was Valerie.
A flicker of disbelief crossed King's face. The masked girl on the mountain... the one whose scent calmed his soul...
He leaned forward, lips parting slightly. Wayne, sensing the shift, whispered, "Your Majesty?"
King waved him off. The pieces clicked too neatly—her figure, her eyes, the controlled breath of someone always on guard. She wasn't just Valerie Hudson. She was her.
Sophia stood proudly with her clique—Nelson in tailored beige, Margaret in a silk designer uniform, and Natasha in her cultural embroidery. Their confidence was impenetrable.
But Valerie—though in simple clothes—stood with subtle power. Her friend, Tina, whispered support behind her. Other students buzzed about the "battle" ahead: a same-day calming pill replication, judged on speed, efficacy, and purity.
The stakes?
Everything.
Not just pride—but validation.
King's grip on the glass in his hand tightened.
He would stay. Watch. Intervene, if necessary. But most of all—he would finally know.
---
Scene: Sophia Prepares Backstage — The Calm Before Her Storm
Behind the velvet curtain separating the staging area from the roaring student crowd, Sophia sat rigid on a leather bench. Her manicured fingers clenched her tablet, the formula for the calming pill glowing faintly on the screen.
Her heart beat a little faster than she liked.
Margaret leaned against the wall, inspecting her nails. "You okay? You've made this before, right?"
Sophia nodded stiffly. "Of course I have." But her voice lacked its usual lilt.
Nelson, lounging beside a box of rare herbs, added, "You better be. Everyone's watching. Especially him." He tilted his chin toward the upper balcony, where King Albanian had just taken his seat.
Sophia's chest constricted.
The presence of King—his cold gaze, his silence—shook her more than she wanted to admit. Not because she was nervous about him watching.
But because she didn't know if he was watching her… or Valerie.
Her gaze flicked to the other side of the room. Valerie stood with her small group—calm, unreadable, her hands steady.
Sophia quickly looked away.
No. I have the edge. I must win.
Her mother's voice echoed in her mind from weeks ago:
"You are not just a Hudson. You were personally taught by Doctor Nwadi, the man known for perfect pharmaceutical replications. You're capable of beating anyone, Sophia—even her."
She remembered the nights spent bent over beakers, replicating pills under Doctor Nwadi's strict supervision. He hadn't taken on students in years—yet for her, he'd made an exception.
And it worked. Every time she duplicated the calming pill, it tested with the same molecular precision.
Sophia took a deep breath.
Let Valerie claim the idea. Let her mouth run. But replication is about control, not dreams.
She tapped her tablet off, stood tall, and faced her team.
"I've got this," she said, and this time, she almost believed it.