The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere grew subtly tense.
The smile on Anke’s face stiffened for a second, and her extended hand hovered awkwardly in mid-air.
She had not expected Lyra to display such direct rejection.
She looked at Lyra, then at Freya, feeling a mix of amusement and understanding — it seemed the little one Freya had picked up possessed a level of possessiveness that was far from ordinary.
Freya also sensed that Lyra’s mood was off.
Unlike the pure disgust and “physical” rejection she showed toward Sophie, Lyra’s current attitude was more complex.
It seemed to be mixed with a type of… awkwardness and anxiety, like a young beast unwilling to share its protector.
She looked into Lyra’s red eyes, which were staring straight at her.
They clearly broadcasted a single plea: ‘I don’t want to share you with anyone else.’
Freya remained silent for a moment.
She understood Anke’s good intentions and cherished their friendship. But Lyra… this little trouble was simple and direct, yet abnormally dependent on her.
Her feelings also needed to be considered.
Moreover, Lyra’s almost instinctive desire for exclusivity, while somewhat childish, touched a soft corner deep within Freya’s heart.
She let out a soft sigh. Instead of answering Lyra directly, she turned to Anke, her tone carrying a hint of apology but remaining composed.
“Anke, it seems this little one is throwing a bit of a tantrum today. How about we reschedule? I might need to… handle some ‘internal issues’ first.”
As she spoke, she gave a meaningful look at Lyra, who was still gazing at her expectantly.
Anke was an incredibly sharp and perceptive person, and she immediately understood Freya’s dilemma and her choice.
Instead of being angry, she found the scene quite amusing.
She withdrew her hand and shrugged, a smile returning to her face, this time with a hint of teasing.
“Alright, alright. It looks like I’ll have to ‘work hard’ to get on little Lyra’s good side. I’ll let you off the hook for today, Freya. Just remember, you owe me a meal!”
She looked at Lyra again and winked.
“Little Lyra, make sure to ‘monopolize’ your Boss well. But next time, you have to share a little bit of her time with me!”
With that, she gave a casual wave and turned to blend into the crowd of people leaving the classroom.
Seeing Anke leave, Lyra seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but the gloom on her face had not entirely vanished.
She continued to look at Freya stubbornly, waiting for a final “verdict.”
Freya looked at her, feeling a mix of helplessness and amusement.
She reached out and gently rubbed Lyra’s white hair, which she had only recently finished combing. The gesture was soothing.
“Let’s go —”
Her voice returned to its usual calm, yet it held an indescribable trace of gentleness.
“Didn’t you want to eat meat? If we go too late, there won’t be any left.”
At the mention of “eating meat” and the realization that Freya wasn’t going to scold her, Lyra’s eyes instantly lit up. Most of that strange frustration dissipated in a heartbeat. She immediately hopped off the chair, her energy restored, and nodded vigorously.
“Mm! Meat! Boss, let’s hurry!”
She instinctively reached out to grab Freya’s hand or sleeve as she usually did, but halfway through the motion, she seemed to remember something. She stole a quick glance at Freya and instead settled for following closely by Freya’s side, refusing to leave her even for a step. It was as if she were using this silent method to declare her “ownership.”
Freya saw every one of these subtle movements but said nothing, simply walking out of the classroom.
The midday sun was just right, stretching their shadows long and overlapping them tightly.
Lyra’s clumsy and blunt possessiveness was like an unpolished, rough gemstone — though it could be abrasive, it reflected a certain pure light.
Freya thought that perhaps, in addition to dealing with the intricate minds and undercurrents within the Academy, learning how to handle the unique dependency of the “little trouble” by her side was also a lesson she needed to learn.
And as for the delicate balance between “sharing” and “monopolizing,” it was clearly only just beginning.
During lunch, the Academy’s Main Cafeteria was bustling with people.
The aroma of food mixed with the sound of various conversations, filling the air with the breath of daily life. Freya and Lyra found a relatively quiet corner by a window and sat down.
In front of Freya was her usual balanced lunch — perfectly toasted rye bread paired with a thick vegetable soup and a small portion of smoked fish salad.
Her dining manner was as elegant and composed as ever.
And across from her…
Even though she had seen it more than once, Freya’s lips couldn’t help but twitch when her gaze fell upon the small mountain of food on Lyra’s tray.
Lyra’s plate was almost entirely occupied by various grilled steaks, pan-fried sausages, and chunks of stewed meat.
There were only a few pathetic pieces of broccoli and diced carrots pushed to the edge, looking more like accidental garnishes than intentional food.
The rich aroma of meat juice wafted aggressively through the air.
Lyra, however, was extremely satisfied with this “meat mountain.” A pure and fervent light sparkled in her red eyes.
She pressed her hands together and announced in her characteristically energetic voice.
“I’m digging in!”
Immediately after, she began to feast without any restraint.
Her eating habits still carried a sense of primal boldness; her movements were fast but not quite crude.
She focused intently on the pleasure each bite of meat brought her, her cheeks bulging and her eyes narrowing with happiness.
Freya took a bite of her bread, chewing slowly. Her gaze remained on Lyra, who was “battling” a steak. Looking at Lyra’s flat stomach, Freya couldn’t help but sigh softly in genuine confusion mixed with a bit of teasing.
“I really don’t know where all that meat goes, exactly which part of your stomach it ends up in…”
Lyra’s ears were sharp. Even in the noisy cafeteria, she caught Freya’s murmur.
She temporarily stopped tearing at the steak and looked up.
Her oil-slicked lips parted into a brilliant smile, and she used a greasy finger to unceremoniously poke her still-flat abdomen.
“Hehe, right here! Don’t worry, Boss, my stomach can hold a lot! None of it will go to waste!”
Having said that, she buried her head back into her “carnivorous feast.”
Freya was rendered speechless by the confident yet silly answer.
She shook her head with a laugh, asking no more as she continued to enjoy her light but exquisite meal.
Sunlight filtered through the glass window, bathing them both in light.
The air was thick with the scent of food and a strange, peaceful atmosphere that belonged only to them.
Lyra’s rhythmic chewing didn’t even seem noisy in that moment; instead, it provided a comforting cadence.
However, just as Freya had vaguely sensed deep down, such seemingly simple and beautiful lunch hours were always prone to interruption.
The brass bell hanging at the cafeteria entrance, used to signal people coming and going, let out a crisp chime.
The heavy wooden door was pushed open, and several figures entered accompanied by the faint clamor from outside.
Walking in the center was Irina Ewell.
She was surrounded by three or four girls who seemed to be on good terms with her, and the group was chatting and laughing.
Irina tilted her head slightly, her golden hair falling softly over her shoulders as she listened to her companions.
Her pink eyes curved into crescents, and a gentle, shy smile played on her lips.
From time to time, she would nod in agreement or speak a few soft words, drawing friendly chuckles from the other girls.
She looked entirely like a typical transfer student — introverted, friendly, easily embarrassed, and well-liked by her peers.
The sunlight from the high windows behind her cast a hazy glow around her. That gentle smile and those pure eyes would make anyone think she was a kind, harmless girl who needed protection.
But when that smile fell into Freya’s eyes, it caused her fingers holding the spoon to tighten for an imperceptible instant.
A flash of extreme, icy coldness suddenly surged in the depths of her pale violet eyes.
It was that face.
That face currently written with gentleness and innocence, as if she knew nothing of the world.
In the final moments of her past life, when Ross Castor’s blade ruthlessly pierced her heart and destroyed her life force, the face standing in the shadows behind Ross was this very one.
Back then, Irina had not a hint of gentleness or shyness on her face.
There had only been the cold triumph of a successful plot, and a condescending, venomous mockery that treated Freya like dust.
The fire of ambition and blatant killing intent had burned within those pink eyes.
They were like two different people.
Freya’s heart felt a phantom pain — a sensation that belonged to the past yet was branded into her soul — as if it had been pricked once more.
But the expression on her face did not change in the slightest.
She didn’t even give Irina a second glance. She simply lowered her gaze and continued to scoop a spoonful of vegetable soup into her mouth.
Her movements were so steady that the flash of coldness from a moment ago might have been an illusion.
Lyra was busy eating and didn’t notice the commotion at the door immediately.
However, her beast-like instincts allowed her to keenly capture the subtle shift in Freya’s aura — a hidden chill, like a crack forming in a sheet of ice.
She immediately looked up alertly. Following the direction Freya’s gaze had likely traveled, she spotted Irina, who was surrounded by girls and smiling warmly.
Lyra’s brow furrowed instantly.
An undisguised look of disgust and wariness flashed in her red eyes, and a low, hostile whimper escaped her throat.
She hated that golden-haired woman.
She had hated her from the start. Seeing her now, especially sensing that her Boss was displeased because of her (or so Lyra believed), made her hate the girl even more.
Almost instinctively, she put down her meat and leaned forward slightly.
She took a posture that vaguely shielded Freya behind her, despite them sitting face-to-face.
Irina didn’t seem to notice Freya and Lyra in the corner right away.
She continued to talk and laugh softly with her companions as they walked toward the serving windows.