Chapter 60: Want to protect

And that ‘someone else’ stood there without a word, her expression cold and unresponsive.

Freya took in all the whispers.

She still did not move.

It wasn’t until Irina approached her with a meal tray, her head slightly bowed and her voice as faint as a mosquito’s hum, that she reacted.

“Freya, about yesterday… I really hope you don’t misunderstand. Senior Sara’s words were her own thoughts; they had nothing to do with me. I just… I just want to get along with everyone.”

She looked up, her pink eyes shimmering with a thin layer of tears that glistened in the sunlight.

“Would you… give me a chance?”

The air seemed to freeze.

In the Academy Canteen, countless gazes focused on this spot.

Lyra’s fingers almost crushed the edge of her meal tray.

Anke opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found she didn’t know what to say.

Irina stood there, slender and fragile, waiting for Freya’s answer with tears in her eyes.

Any refusal at this moment would seem cold and heartless.

Freya looked at her.

She looked at those pink eyes filled with water.

She looked at those slightly trembling eyelashes.

She looked at that perfectly timed, humble, and sincere posture.

She remembered many things.

In the final moment of her previous life, those same eyes had burned with triumph and coldness.

Last night, Anke had mentioned the Midnight Training Ground.

This morning, Lyra had said, “She’s helping you.”

And —

She suddenly remembered the golden figure she had seen earlier while passing the teaching building.

Ross was standing in the shadows of a pillar, looking this way.

Looking at Irina.

Looking at her.

Waiting.

Freya suddenly smiled.

The smile was extremely faint, so faint that only Lyra and Anke, who were closest to her, could catch it for a split second.

It wasn’t a sneer, it wasn’t mockery, and it wasn’t even an aggressive expression.

It was just a trace.

Extremely faint.

A profound indifference hidden beneath the ice.

“Irina,” she began, her voice as calm as a lake in the afternoon. “You didn’t take our seats.”

Irina’s eyelashes flickered slightly.

“This table — ” Freya said. “Is a public area, and anyone can sit here.”

She paused.

“You don’t need to move.”

Irina looked up, the layer of tears in her eyes becoming more obvious, filled with surprise and gratitude. “Then… then you mean… “

“What I mean is — ” Freya’s tone remained calm. “The canteen is large, and there are many seats. It is your freedom to sit wherever you like.”

She stepped forward, walking past Irina’s side.

She did not look back.

“Lyra, Anke, over here.”

Lyra froze for a moment, glared fiercely at Irina, and then quickly followed with her meal tray.

Anke hesitated for a second before following as well.

The three of them walked to a corner on the other side of the canteen and sat down at an empty table.

Irina stood where she was, still holding her nearly untouched lunch. The sunlight wrapped her in a lonely, fragile silhouette.

The surrounding gazes began to turn sympathetic.

“Freya is being too much… “

“The girl apologized, and she still acts like that… “

“That’s just how those of noble birth are… “

Those whispers floated clearly toward the corner.

Lyra’s face grew darker and darker, and she nearly stood up.

Anke pressed down on her hand, shaking her head gently.

Freya picked up her utensils and began to eat.

Her movements were elegant.

Her expression was normal.

It was as if nothing had happened.

Lunch ended in silence.

As they walked out of the canteen, Anke finally couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Freya — ” she lowered her voice. “Why didn’t you explain? It was clearly her — “

“Explain what?” Freya interrupted her.

Anke opened her mouth.

Explain what?

Explain that Irina did it on purpose?

Explain that she took the seat just to wait for this scene?

Explain that her pitiful appearance was all an act?

But there was no evidence.

Everything was just speculation.

And Irina’s tears were something everyone had seen.

Freya looked at Anke’s expression and knew what she was thinking.

“It’s useless,” she said, her tone flat. “She was fully prepared. Any explanation in front of her would only turn into a cover-up.”

Anke fell silent.

Lyra suddenly spoke up.

“Then we just do nothing?”

Freya looked at her.

In Lyra’s red eyes, there was anger and heartache that she couldn’t quite understand — as for who the heartache was for, she didn’t want to think too deeply about it.

“Boss — ” Lyra said. “I don’t understand your complicated twists and turns. But I know that woman is bullying you. She’s bullying you in a way I don’t understand.”

Her voice was muffled, carrying a sort of childish stubbornness.

“I don’t like it.”

Freya looked at her.

She looked into those sincere, unreserved eyes.

The afternoon sun fell on Lyra, gilding the top of her fluffy hair with a warm border.

“I know,” Freya’s voice was very soft.

She paused.

Then, very gently, she reached out and rubbed that white head.

Lyra froze.

Anke also froze.

Freya withdrew her hand, turned around, and walked forward.

“Let’s go.”

Lyra was stunned for two seconds before she suddenly snapped out of it and hurried to catch up.

“Boss! You just touched my head!”

“I didn’t.”

“You did! You touched it! It was warm!”

” …A hallucination.”

“It wasn’t a hallucination! Anke, you saw it too, right!”

Anke watched the two figures, one in front of the other. She watched Lyra gesticulating as she chased after Freya, and she saw that although Freya didn’t stop, her pace had clearly slowed down.

She suddenly smiled.

Fine, then.

She quickly caught up.

“Wait for me! I want a turn too!”

“Why are you joining in… “

Lyra’s hair bristled as she looked at Anke warily.

“Boss, can I ask you for something?”

“What?”

“Touch my head again.”

“I refuse.”

“Boss… QAQ”

In the distant shadows of the pillars, Ross Castor withdrew his gaze.

His expression was complicated.

He had seen the entire scene just now.

Irina’s apology, Freya’s calmness, and those whispers.

And finally —

Freya reaching out to rub that white-haired girl’s head.

That movement was so natural.

As natural as if she had done it a thousand times.

But he had never received such a moment.

He lowered his eyes and turned to leave.

His footsteps were heavy.

By the time Irina returned to her dorm, it was already dusk.

She closed the door, and the fragility and grievance on her face were slowly removed like a mask.

No lights were lit in the room.

She stood in the shadows, her pink eyes as deep as a pool.

She had calculated today’s scene very well.

Those sympathetic gazes, those whispers blaming Freya — they were all what she wanted.

But.

But Freya’s reaction was completely different from what she had expected.

She thought Freya would defend herself, would get angry, or would show a weakness.

But she did nothing.

She simply walked past her calmly.

Like walking past an insignificant stranger.

Irina closed her eyes.

Her fingers slowly tightened, nails digging into her palms.

That feeling was back.

Ever since the first time she met Freya, there had been a faint, inexplicable sense of discord.

The way Freya looked at her —

It wasn’t the gaze one gave a stranger.

It wasn’t the gaze one gave a rival.

It was…

Irina opened her eyes.

In the darkness, her pupils contracted slightly.

It was —

The gaze of someone who had already seen through her.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered to herself.

Her voice echoed in the empty room.

She never believed in ethereal legends like past lives or predicting the future.

Those were excuses for the weak and comfort for losers.

But.

But Freya’s reaction could not be explained by any conventional logic.

She must have missed something.

Irina walked to the window and pushed it open.

The night wind blew in, carrying the coolness unique to the Academy, mixed with the scent of Magic.

She looked at the distant window where a light was on.

Freya’s dorm.

Through the gap in the curtains, two figures could be vaguely seen — one sitting at the desk, one lying on the floor bed.

So close.

So quiet.

Irina watched for a long time.

Then, she closed the window.

She bit her nails, her eyes full of anger.

No matter what secret Freya was hiding, she would dig it out.

No matter how long it took.

She had plenty of patience.

In the dorm, Lyra rolled over, facing Freya’s direction.

“Boss.”

“Mm.”

“That blonde woman… ” Lyra weighed her words. “She did that today because she wanted other people to think you’re bad, right?”

Freya’s movement of turning the page paused.

“You understood that?”

“Not completely,” Lyra said honestly. “But I know she didn’t have good intentions. Just like the animals in the mountains — some pretend to be dead, some pretend to be pitiful, all just to trick the prey into coming closer.”

Freya was silent for a moment.

This metaphor was surprisingly accurate.

“Are you afraid?” she suddenly asked.

She didn’t know what Lyra was thinking.

But to her surprise, Lyra blinked.

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid of being dragged into this.”

Lyra tilted her head and thought about it, then shook her head seriously.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because — ” Lyra buried her face in the blanket, her voice muffled. “Boss will protect me.”

At the same time, there was a sentence Lyra didn’t say.

‘I will also protect Boss.’

Freya didn’t speak.

Lyra waited, and when she didn’t get a response, she secretly peeked out from the blanket.

Freya was still sitting at her desk, her back to her.

But Lyra noticed that the tips of her ears were slightly red.

Lyra grinned, buried her face back in the blanket, and closed her eyes contentedly.

The room became quiet again.

There was only the occasional sound of pages turning and the steady breathing from the floor bed.

Outside the window, the night deepened.

Someone was weaving a net in the dark.

Someone was moving forward steadily in the light.

And in that small dorm, the lights were warm, and time was peaceful.

At least, for now.

When Ross Castor returned to the Imperial Palace, the twilight was thick.

The carriage passed through the outer city and entered the path reserved for the Imperial Palace. The sound of horse hooves created a rhythmic echo on the empty stone road.

The Magic streetlamps on both sides lit up one after another, making the magnificent palace walls look even more towering.

He leaned against the inner wall of the carriage, his blue eyes looking at the scenery flying past the window, though his gaze was vacant.

Everything that happened today at the Academy was like a tangled mess, twisting around in his mind.

Irina’s tearful pink eyes, the gaze Freya gave him when she walked past that was so calm it was almost indifferent, and finally —

The hand that landed on the white-haired girl’s head.