Villanelle walked hurriedly through the second floor of the Arcane Cloister, clutching her cloth bag and wand. Morning light pierced the clouds, filtering through the dusty windowpanes.
This massive building was used for teaching low- and mid-tier magic theory courses, and its history was nearly as old as the Empire itself.
One side of the corridor was lined with reliefs of ancient sages and their corresponding mottos, giving the entire hallway a solemn and dignified atmosphere.
‘Knowledge itself has no light; it is the eyes of the seeker that illuminate it.’ — Elador.
‘A river is not noble because of its high-born source, but because of its journey toward the sea and the lands it nourishes along the way.’ — Eos.
Villanelle saw these famous quotes every day on her way to and from class. She knew them by heart and could recite them with her eyes closed.
She wasn’t late, but compared to previous days, she was arriving a bit behind schedule.
It couldn’t be helped. She had returned to the Twilight Tower very late last night, which resulted in her oversleeping a bit this morning.
The old butler, Heinrich, had gone out this morning, so there was no one to wake her.
‘Basic Magic Theory…’ Villanelle recalled her course schedule and found the corresponding classroom.
Small groups of noble children had already gathered in the hallway outside the classroom. Under the morning light, gem-encrusted wands and family crests shimmered faintly.
Amidst a sea of gorgeous custom-made robes, Villanelle’s old, slightly faded clothes were exceptionally eye-catching.
Many people cast their gazes toward her, staring with blatant scrutiny that ranged from indifference and arrogance to outright mockery.
Villanelle ignored those annoying looks. She kept her head slightly lowered, hiding most of her face in the shadow of her long silver hair, but her back remained rod-straight.
This was her last remaining bit of pride regarding the name “Adrian,” even if that surname mostly brought cold abandonment.
She strode into the classroom.
The familiar mixed scent lingered in the air: the smell of ink on parchment, aged oak, and the pungent perfume of the noble children.
Villanelle habitually walked toward a window seat in the back row. This had almost become her permanent spot; no one ever tried to take it, making it quite peaceful.
However, this sanctuary now had a few uninvited guests.
Leo von Falkenberg was sitting casually in her seat, one foot clad in a polished leather shoe propped up on the adjacent chair.
Surrounded by two lackeys—one chubby and one thin, Conrad and Hermann—Leo was saying something that made them both break out into low, echoing laughter.
Leo had a head of golden-brown curly hair and could be considered handsome, but his grey eyes always held a lingering sense of cruelty and arrogance.
After seeing their faces clearly, Villanelle’s expression darkened.
‘That golden-haired hyena again.’
She usually came to the academy early specifically to avoid encountering this group, but today she had run right into them.
Villanelle paused, preparing to find another suitable place to sit, at least to endure the morning’s classes.
Seats in the classroom weren’t fixed, and theoretically, anyone could sit anywhere, but the reality was quite different.
On the first day of enrollment, the noble children had already demarcated their “spheres of influence,” forming small circles. Anyone who barged in would only receive organized ostracization.
Even if one was mentally strong enough to ignore all insults and mockery, the bullying of noble children wasn’t limited to verbal attacks.
However, Leo had already noticed her the moment she entered.
“Look who it is. Our esteemed Princess has arrived,” Leo said, tilting his chin and intentionally drawing out his words.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to spread through the entire classroom.
Villanelle stiffened for a moment. She didn’t speak, only clutching her cloth bag and wand tighter until her knuckles turned white.
The whispers in the classroom died down, and many curious gazes turned toward them, as if watching a play.
“What’s wrong, Princess?” Leo put his foot down and leaned forward slowly, resting one arm on the back of the chair in a relaxed posture. “Has your exclusive ‘throne’ been occupied by a rude subject like me? Should I be punished for my crime?”
His tone was leisurely, filled with a carefully crafted sneer.
Villanelle’s breathing quickened, and the mana fluctuations around her intensified.
Seeing her lack of response, Leo made a show of looking around. “Do I need to kneel and kiss the hem of your robe? Oh, I almost forgot. Your robe doesn’t seem very suited for that kind of etiquette.”
Villanelle knew what he meant—her robe was too old.
Conrad let out a short snort.
“Move,” she said, suppressing her emotional impulses. She held her cloth bag in one hand and gripped her wand in the other, tapping it lightly against the floor. “That is my seat.”
“Your seat? Oh, Princess, I think you didn’t know that all seats are available for anyone to sit in,” Leo feigned surprise.
Villanelle stared at him intensely.
He was doing it on purpose.
He knew very well what an unwelcome person would suffer if they tried to force their way into one of those small circles.
Leo suddenly wore an expression of realization. “Or do you want to sit next to me and give some guidance to a failure of a student like myself? It makes sense; after all, you are the chosen girl who could tame a Black Dragon all by herself.”
The whispering started up again, but this time, the topic was Villanelle.
The informants placed by various factions at Dragon Cliff and its vicinity had sent the news out last night. It was truly efficient.
Villanelle felt a surge of heat rush to her head.
But she maintained her reason.
‘No, I can’t attack. I’ll get disciplined. If it’s serious, I might even be expelled…’
“I heard that your little pet is as well-behaved as a toothless dog?” Leo seemed completely oblivious to the change in Villanelle’s mood. “How about you bring it over during biology class and let my ‘Storm’ teach it what a dragon is supposed to look like?”
Villanelle’s fingernails dug into her palms.
She thought of Ignis’s molten-gold eyes, the way he waddled in the hatchery while reaching out his claws, and the way he had pushed her shoes toward her this morning.
She could endure insults directed at her, but if it involved Ignis…
‘Then I’ll just take the punishment.’
Villanelle’s hand tightened around her wand.
“Ahem.”
A moderate cough came from the direction of the podium.
The professor of Basic Magic Theory, Sebastian von Cromwell, walked into the classroom with a thick lesson plan tucked under his arm, followed by a string of students with their heads bowed or their necks tucked in.
The old professor was about sixty or seventy years old. His grey hair was combed meticulously, and his black robe was clean and crisp. A pair of glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.
His cold gaze swept over the classroom, lingering for a split second on Villanelle and Leo without any emotion, as if he were simply confirming the head count.
“Everyone, return to your seats,” Sebastian said in a flat voice, his tone carrying an indisputable command. “Open your textbooks to page 79. We are beginning the lesson.”
Leo clicked his tongue and stood up reluctantly. He gave Villanelle a mocking “after you” gesture before heading toward the front row.
Conrad and Hermann followed closely at his heels.
Villanelle walked silently to her seat. She took a handkerchief from her desk and wiped the chair down before sitting.
‘Class is starting. Focus. Forget everything else…’
She forced herself to concentrate, pushing down the stinging gazes and her worries for Ignis as she pulled her copy of Standard Magic Introduction and her pen and ink from her bag.
“Remember, the three elements of spellcasting are: Mana, a Focus, and the Spell Model…”
“The Filos Rune represents the condensation of mana…”
The professor’s textbook-style lecture was as dull as ever.
After copying the notes that the professor had filled the blackboard with, Villanelle couldn’t help but look out the window.
Outside, the academy’s spires cut into the sky, bathed in sunlight.
At least she wasn’t alone anymore. That other existence accompanying her should be enjoying the sunlight right now, too.
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