Jealousy and Hatred
Aria stood motionless, gazing upward at the grand hall where the ball was unfolding. The glittering lights from the windows, the sweet melody drifting from the orchestra, and the lively chatter of the crowd washed over her. She had been watching the silhouettes of the happy, splendid students until her gaze dropped.
The pure white gown, reminiscent of a wedding dress, shimmered in the glow of the chandeliers. This was the dress her maid and knight had risked their lives to fetch for her in just one day. They had spent a fortune in haste and dashed madly through the city, but neither could close their mouths when they saw Aria in it.
Therla had wiped away the maids who had fainted from exhaustion and the joy of their lifelong wish, all while maintaining superhuman patience, and followed Aria out.
*Ah, this is heaven.*
She never cursed, but if she had to express this feeling, she had no choice. Her superhuman endurance had kept her conscious not just to protect Aria but because she could not bear to look away for even one more second.
The gown was spotless, as if untouched by any blemish, against the backdrop of the goddess’s revered appearance. Aria watched the ball with envious eyes, yet no matter how dazzling the lights on the dance floor, she could not match the brilliance of the girl beneath the chandeliers.
Right here, right now, was the most beautiful place in the world, Therla thought, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness.
Just from seeing the dress of the shy young lady, Therla could not help but praise Zeroa.
Thanks to him, one of her lifelong wishes had come true—she would have to acknowledge him a little.
Moreover, she alone could enjoy this beauty. Of course, there were hidden guards watching from the shadows, but in the end, it was just the two of them—Aria and herself.
It was even better than going out to the ball and attracting those bugs.
She wanted to watch Aria dance, but absolutely no way was she letting some lecher dance with her.
She was sorry for Aria, who could only watch from the window, but this was the perfect position for Therla.
“Aria...?”
Therla had nodded, but her eyes suddenly widened as she scanned the direction of the voice.
Zeroa flinched under her terrifying gaze, and Therla quickly masked her expression and stepped back.
Glancing at the strangely intimidating woman, Zeroa approached Aria.
“... ...”
Aria’s cheeks flushed red as she lowered her head, clearly embarrassed by the sight of the dress. Zeroa lost his words.
*Hehe.*
Although he did not usually interfere, Therla poked Zeroa’s side, unable to resist.
*Praise him, you idiot.*
Therla signaled with nothing but her eyes and stepped aside. Zeroa pulled himself together, his cheeks burning as he stammered,
“U-um... A-Aria... I-I mean... the dress... it’s beautiful...”
“... ... Thank you.”
Therla watched Aria turn her head away shyly, thinking he had failed to deliver a proper compliment.
An awkward silence settled in. Zeroa, flustered, searched for words.
“Um... I didn’t know you’d come to the ball... I’ve made progress, you know.”
“Yes... but I can’t go in...”
Aria glanced at the window with a sad expression and lowered her head further.
Zeroa stared blankly at her embarrassed face before smiling wryly.
“It’s fine. There’ll be more balls—next time, and the one after that. Let’s enjoy the ball here today.”
“Um... but you should go to the ball to enjoy it... I don’t need you to stay with me.”
No man in the world would turn down Aria’s words and return to the ball.
Zeroa shook his head too.
“It’s not necessary to enjoy the ball in the grand hall. The Emperor and young Seria danced in the village square.”
*This bastard suddenly got so eloquent.*
Therla watched the two from a distance, disappointed.
If only she had brought something to chew on, it would have been the best healing ever.
Aria tried to refuse, but the music in the hall swelled.
“It’s a waltz.”
“Do you know this piece?”
“Yes, I heard it a lot while working at the opera house.”
Zeroa nodded casually, glanced at the window of the hall, then turned to look at Aria.
The light from the chandelier fell across her face as she gazed upward.
Spellbound, Zeroa opened his mouth before he could stop himself.
“Would you like to dance?”
Aria’s head lowered as she met his eyes.
“U-um, that is... today is the ball... and a dancing day! I-I mean, I have no other intentions.”
*Oh no, that idiot.*
Therla glanced at Zeroa, who had suddenly overstepped, and looked at him with disdain.
Staring at Zeroa’s bewildered expression, Aria nodded.
“Yes, please dance with me.”
Aria extended her hand, and Zeroa, confused whether this was a dream or reality, carefully took it.
The hand he held was warm, soft, beautiful, smelled good, and felt comforting. In short, he was happy.
Moving slowly to the music, Therla watched with a rapt expression.
As the two drew closer and their faces met, Therla frowned.
Aria stepped away and spun once, the gown flaring like a white flower. Therla wiped blood from her nose and watched.
Even in the dark, under the chandelier light, the sight of the two dancing was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Dancing... you’re really good at it.”
“I’m not that good. I worked as a dance instructor’s assistant.”
*You’ve done everything under the sun.*
Therla thought irritably, but Aria laughed at his answer, her smile genuine.
It was a small laugh, yet for the usually silent and expressionless girl, it was a huge change.
“Zeroa, you’ve done so many things. Impressive.”
“Impressive... really?”
“Yes, it’s impressive. What else have you tried?”
They danced and chatted naturally.
The intimate conversation and the dance beneath the chandelier were too much for even Therla, the romance-novel fanatic. Nothing could hit her heart so directly.
She wiped the blood from her nose with a finger and smiled with satisfaction.
She could die without regret now.
Therla nodded slowly and turned her gaze toward the bushes in the distance.
*What if I just leave it alone.*
More than Zeroa had been drawn by Aria’s aura from the ball.
Therla glared at the man with bloodshot eyes watching the two dance, then turned away.
She had no grudge against Aria.
Her eyes burned with jealousy and hatred, directed at Zeroa.
*If you want Aria’s heart, get past this much, you idiot.*
Since he had no ill will toward Aria, she cut off her interest.
* * *
“Ugh— It was tough. Grandpa’s training is so hard.”
“It’s only because he’s teaching basics, Paul.”
Aslan, Seiban, and Delen entered the room with Zeroa.
“I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
“Uh, I brought a bento.”
Aslan, Seiban, and Delen stared silently at Zeroa after he changed out of his training clothes in response to his words.
“Wh-why...?”
“Who made it? Maybe Meiri?”
Zeroa asked cautiously in the awkward silence. Seiban smiled slyly.
“No? Why would Meiri give it to me? My sister made it.”
“You have a sister?”
“Don’t get interested. She’s a kid.”
Aslan kicked Seiban’s butt, changed clothes again.
Hearing Kara had made it, the three who had lost interest immediately tilted their heads. Zeroa searched his bag for his clothes.
“Eh?”
“What? Is something wrong?”
“The clothes... are gone.”
Zeroa opened his bag wide and searched, but found no clothes.
“Put them somewhere else? I forget where I put things sometimes.”
“Yeah... that makes sense. I don’t remember where I put them.”
“I forget things too. Last time I couldn’t find my sword, it took me two hours. Don’t put things anywhere.”
“Yeah, my mom always says to organize things first.”
Seiban and Delen exchanged glances while listening to the conversation.
If it were Aslan, sure, but Zeroa, who was meticulous and dutiful, would not just throw his clothes anywhere.
Seiban sensed something, but with the current situation, he could not be sure, so he stayed silent.
“It’s a bit gross, but let’s change later and go eat.”
Aslan said casually, and Zeroa nodded, bento in hand, and left with the three.
“It’s here. Ah... I can’t wear this, it’s dirty.”
Zeroa picked up the crumpled clothes on the floor like a rag in front of the changing room and gave a bitter smile.
“Why are they here?”
“They must have fallen after I put them by the window.”
Zeroa shook the clothes, put them back in his bag, and went inside again.
While waiting, Aslan asked cheerfully what the menu was today. Seiban watched him with disdain. When Zeroa returned to the dining hall,
“Ugh!”
Zeroa slipped on the stairs and nearly fell. He steadied himself, realizing water had pooled on the step he had stepped on, and let out a sigh of relief.
“Close call. Someone must have spilled water. I better evaporate it.”
He used magic to dry the water on the stairs, warning others not to step there.
Aslan, watching from behind, scanned the surroundings with sharp eyes.
Even Aslan, who was not the sharpest, would have noticed by now.
Zeroa, who crouched low without suspecting anything, felt nothing. But it was clearly a malicious prank.
They were not ordinary students here—except for the Pure Mages, they had all been trained to the extreme limit of their physical bodies.
A simple splash of water would not topple them.
Aslan searched for the culprit, muttering he would kill whoever did it, but no one suspicious appeared.
Only one student, who came out into the corridor, met Aslan’s eyes, flinched, and quickly retreated inside.
In this situation, it looked suspicious, but Aslan knew it was because of him, so he scowled and turned away.
“It’s ready. I’m sorry for the wait. Let’s go.”
Zeroa smiled brightly as he led the way to the dining hall. Aslan followed, feeling uneasy.
As students moved according to the lecture schedule, the dining hall was always crowded at lunch.
Aslan found a spot squeezed between tables and started eating with the three.
“My sister cooks too... she must like her brother a lot...”
“No, maybe it was strawberry cake. I bought too much before and it started to go bad...”
Zeroa spoke hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. Seiban, who had been smiling happily, closed his mouth with an embarrassed expression.
“It’s still good. Strawberry cake is delicious.”
“Yeah, if I hadn’t eaten only this all year, I could have enjoyed it more.”
Zeroa’s bitter expression made Aslan close his mouth too.
Apparently, he had been bringing strawberry cake during training.
The three who could not meet Zeroa’s eyes sat silently while Delen ate quietly. Zeroa forced a laugh in the awkward silence.
“It’s fine. Now I’m used to it... if there’s no strawberry cake at dinner, it feels... uh...?”
Zeroa opened the bento while laughing, then his face hardened.
Inside were crushed strawberry cake and a pair of boots.
The muddy boots looked disgusting just to look at, and from the lid, mud seemed to drip out.
“Ah... it was Kara’s joke... her jokes were too much. Sorry for showing this.”
Zeroa tried to close the bento quickly, but Aslan slammed his fist on the table with a loud bang.
“SHIT!!! Who the hell is it?! Is it fun?! Huh?! Is it FUN?!”
“Um, Aslan, why are you suddenly like this.”
Zeroa panicked and grabbed him, but Aslan ignored him and kept shouting.
“If you have a problem, come out and say it! Don’t do that weak, pathetic thing!!”
The students stared blankly at him, and the seniors frowned while watching Aslan.
But Aslan did not flinch under the stares of hundreds of people. He glared at them murderously.
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