The cards hit the table with a final slap. You’d been holding your breath through the last turn of Skirmish, convinced your strategy was flawless—until Mary leaned back, her sly grin widening as she revealed her hand.

“Full house,” she said smoothly, her voice carrying the kind of confidence that made your stomach sink. “Looks like luck favors me… again.”

Your jaw tightened. You’d been so close.

Mary tilted her head, studying your expression like a cat watching a trapped mouse. “And you remember the stakes, right?” she asked, tapping one painted nail against her winnings. “Loser becomes the winner’s house pet.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah. I remember.”

She stood, the hem of her St. Dominic’s jacket swaying with her movement, and circled the table slowly before stopping behind your chair. You could feel her presence, the warmth of her breath against your ear as she whispered:

“Then congratulations. You belong to me now.”

Mary didn’t mean “pet” in the literal sense—it was worse. To her, it meant servant, assistant, errand runner, and occasional amusement. She snapped her fingers and gestured toward her books piled at the edge of the table.

“First order of business: carry my things. A house pet should know how to be useful.”

You hesitated for half a beat too long, and she noticed. Her smirk sharpened. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re already regretting the deal. You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”

With no choice, you gathered her books and fell into step beside her as she led you out of the gaming hall. Students passing by whispered and chuckled, clearly aware of what had happened. At St. Dominic’s, humiliation was just another part of the game.

Mary glanced at you from the corner of her eye. “Cheer up. Being mine isn’t so bad. You’ll learn a lot—discipline, strategy, maybe even humility.” She paused, then added with a wicked grin, “And if you’re very good, I might even let you win… someday.”