chapter 8
chapter 8
Note
The class dragged on dully, and the bell announcing lunch filled the classroom.
Students began getting up and heading out, and just then Isadora slowed her steps as she passed by Lucia.
“If you’re unwell, you should at least eat properly. The more frail your body is, the more you should.”
It was a remark tossed out in passing. Lucia quietly watched Isadora’s retreating back.
It was simply strange how someone could act so kind one moment and mock the next.
Without a word, she packed her textbook into her bag and adjusted her grip on Asel. Just as she was about to stand, she felt a gaze prick the back of her neck.
When she turned, she met Rosaria’s eyes, standing with the sunlight behind her.
Was she trying to add a period to Isadora’s words?
Lucia turned toward the door, intending to ignore her, but footsteps approached, and that vivid orange hair filled her vision from just above.
Then Rosaria’s voice fell from above her head.
“Must be tiring, acting all the time. Hang in there.”
It was encouragement disguised as mockery. Rosaria left with those words, her long hair swaying as she exited the classroom.
Lucia stood still until that orange afterimage completely disappeared.
I’m already too tired to eat.
The academy grounds were vast, like a small city, containing everything within. With her appetite gone, Lucia headed to a café.
All along the stone path, whispers clung to her.
That’s the grand duke’s daughter with the staff
Didn’t she lose her magic? Why is she in the magic department?
Because there’s no knight department.
Lucia answered internally, maintaining her elegant, pitiful stride without faltering.
To others, she might look like a tragic heroine, but inside, she was simply exhausted by the noise.
She bought a sandwich and coffee, sat at an outdoor table, and forced herself to eat. The bread felt like sand in her mouth.
So talkative.
She noticed a school newspaper on the next table. The front page featured the princess’s top admission, but the back pages were filled with mentions of her.
Obviously.
She took a sip of coffee, bitterness spreading across her tongue.
At least her schedule was short.
But she still had to return and sit next to Rosaria.
The afternoon class was magic history.
Boring.
“…Ah, sorry.”
Lucia accidentally nudged Rosaria’s book with her elbow.
She expected a sharp remark.
But—
Silence.
When she turned, sunlight flooded her vision, obscuring Rosaria’s face, leaving only her glowing hair.
Why isn’t she saying anything?
Lucia blinked and looked forward.
Her cheek tickled as she brushed her platinum hair behind her ear.
Then—
Their eyes met.
Rosaria looked away first.
“Why are you looking?”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“If your eyesight is bad, call a doctor.”
Seriously?
Lucia glanced at Rosaria’s notebook.
Perfect notes.
When did she even write all that?
“Are you taking notes?”
“I’ll just memorize it.”
“Those types end up at the bottom.”
“Not me.”
“Confident.”
“Seriously…”
Lucia sighed.
“Learn from other nobles.”
“We’re all just students here.”
“Then learn from students.”
Lucia wanted to flick her lips.
Looking around, everyone was writing diligently.
Only her—empty.
She had to admit it.
She wasn’t suited for this.
But she didn’t want Rosaria to know.
‘Why am I acting like this…’
The class ended.
Isadora passed by again.
“I wonder if you understood today’s lesson.”
Pick one. Concern or mockery.
Lucia gave a faint smile and a short nod.
Rosaria still watched her.
Lucia left without looking back.
Tap. Tap.
Her staff echoed in the corridor.
She was getting used to the quiet contempt.
And that bothered her.
Back in the dorm, everything was spotless. A luxurious tea set sat on the table.
‘What a tiring day.’
She changed, lay down—
Then irritation surged.
Why did everyone have something to say?
She had been living properly, hadn’t she?
Unable to hold it in, she grabbed Asel and stepped into the living room.
Whoosh—
She swung it.
Cutting Rosaria.
Cutting Isadora.
Then—
Crash!
The teacup shattered.
“…Oh.”
Expensive.
Why leave it there?
…No, this is my fault.
She took out a note.
[Sorry. I accidentally broke the teacup. I will compensate.]
Perfect.
She stuck it on her roommate’s door.
No need to make enemies.
She returned to her room.
Then, late at night—
She woke, thirsty.
Drank water.
Then noticed—
A note.
[What kind of arrogant behavior leads to breaking teacups in the living room? No compensation needed. Just be more careful.]
Elegant handwriting.
Annoying message.
Arrogant?
Seriously?
The irritation surged again.
Completely awake now.