Classmates in Uproar and a Duel Declared
I met my classmates! The moment I revealed my identity, the quiet class erupted into a buzz just as expected.
Everyone was glued to me, unable to look away.
Whether it was positive attention or hostile stares, attention was attention—and I savored every second of it.
This had to count as a pretty successful first impression, right?
More than that, it felt amazing. No joke, I was so thrilled my legs felt like jelly.
But showing that would ruin my image for sure... Or would it?
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. A little pitiful, fragile damsel performance might really sell the "delicate beauty" vibe.
As I gauged the students' reactions and toyed with the idea, a familiar face caught my eye.
Jet-black hair and piercing golden eyes that seemed to see right through to your soul. That bored, disinterested gaze looking down at me like I was nothing.
No doubt about it—the Crown Prince, Reinhardt.
Now I get why everyone calls him handsome. He really is.
I stared, hoping for some reaction if our eyes met, but his attitude didn't budge.
Obsessed with fairness and merit as he is, he's probably pegging me as some nepotism parachute from a powerful family.
Still better than outright indifference. Contempt beats apathy any day.
While I mulled that over, the homeroom teacher cleared their throat and signaled for quiet.
"As you can see, Ilisha is... not in the best of health. I'd appreciate it if you all could lend her a hand."
The kids alternated glances between me and the teacher, like they couldn't believe it.
They probably didn't expect the teacher to go that far for me.
...Neither did I.
"...I'm fine. Treat me normally."
Time for some image-building. Gentle, no need for special treatment, flashing a smile that said I was really okay.
The teacher looked at me silently, then gestured to a seat.
"Ilisha, take that spot over there."
Following their hand, my eyes landed on the empty chair right next to the Crown Prince.
Oh.
Lots of empty seats, so I figured it wouldn't be there.
Guess I was wrong—in the best way.
Maybe I could strike up a chat. His face said three sentences max, though.
As I approached, I felt eyes locking on. The Northern Duke's daughter sitting next to the imperial second prince? Only weird if no one cared.
I sat carefully, tail tucked to avoid twitching, and gave him a greeting laced with feigned awkwardness.
"Nice to meet you, um... Your Highness Crown Prince?"
Of course, in a way he'd hate.
No chance of winning favor, so might as well aim for contempt. Plus, I was curious about his reaction.
"...Hah. Don't you know the academy rules? It's Reinhardt. Remember it well, Ilisha."
The second I said "Your Highness," he recoiled like I'd spat in his face, correcting me every which way.
That probably locked in solid contempt, huh? Better than lukewarm disdain.
"Ah, sorry, Reinhardt."
I played a bit flustered and apologetic, but he clearly had zero interest in chatting more.
Really can't get past three sentences with this guy.
I figured he'd at least ask how I got here.
Maybe calling him "Your Highness" was a misstep? Plenty of other ways to rile him up.
A twinge of regret, but I shook it off quick.
The spotlight wasn't just on him, after all.
For instance, Lucia de Belmont from the Southern Duke's family, pretending not to care but unable to look away.
Or Ern, staring at me and the blackboard like a nervous pup afraid to get in trouble.
Makes sense—he remembers the old Ilisha dying quietly in her room before his regression, so this must be freaking him out.
But those two were especially fixated.
Maybe hit them up during break.
My head was buzzing with delightful possibilities.
A plain greeting might've gotten some attention, but starting with that dramatic cough was spot-on.
Not just the mains—everyone was focused on me.
"That concludes homeroom."
The teacher wrapped up and left the classroom.
Soon after, the professor for the next class arrived—a rare sight for first-years.
The academy ran like a university, pick-your-classes style, but first-years were the exception. Supposedly to build basics and ease us in.
Even as class started, kids whispered and muttered their guesses and impressions about me.
My sharp ears caught every word.
Mostly about my looks, some wild theories on how I even got in.
Even if she hated my family, looks like she had some rivalry toward the Northern Duke's house.
Others gossiped too, but Ern and Reinhardt stayed silent.
The guy next to me just had nothing to say, but Ern... probably had too much to say, but couldn't.
Right?
"Heehee."
Imagining his turmoil made me giggle.
The girl who died meekly in her room pre-regression, now out here causing chaos—must be messing with his head.
Yeah, probably.
"What's so funny?"
My laugh irked Reinhardt; he didn't even turn his head.
"Just... I never thought I'd end up at the academy."
I was about to gush that it was my lifelong dream.
"Same."
Reinhardt cut me off.
Three sentences max again.
No will to talk at all, huh.
Fine by me. I knew how to flip his attitude on a dime.
I considered chatting up Lucia during break, but her crowd was too thick, so I nixed it.
Plus, she'd glared at me like bad luck all class—any words from me would've gotten venom right back.
Sharp reactions aren't bad, but softer ones hit nicer. On hold for now.
Reinhardt? Wrapped in a thin ether barrier, screaming "no talking."
So damn strict.
Ern... save him for later.
End of fourth period, and all I managed was listening attentively with occasional coughs—timed not to disrupt.
Took effort.
Students flocked to the cafeteria in groups right after.
Lone wolves wandered out solo.
Me? Lone wolf category.
Groups were set, and no one dared approach the Northern Duke's daughter.
First reason, fine. Second? Kinda unfair.
Not my fault no one came close.
I headed to the cafeteria normally, but academy guards and Ainshel popped up to escort me.
Dad's consideration, no doubt.
Got me there without hassle, sure.
But awkward as hell.
Thoughtful care's nice, but I didn't want "pampered invalid" vibes.
"...Ainshel. No need to fetch me next time. I can handle it."
"But, miss..."
Short tussle, but I finally shooed them off.
Too late—rumors had spread.
Heading to the Swordsmanship Hall post-lunch, a gang blocked my path and spilled it.
"Heard the Northern transfer looks like a corpse—wondered how bad, but damn, she really does."
"...Who are you? Do I know you?"
"Huh? Nah, first time seeing you."
The leader-looking guy grinned viciously at me.
Calling out Northern Duke specifically, blond with tanned skin.
Had to be Lucia's brother, Lorenzo Belmont.
"Transferring into the sacred academy, bringing a maid... What do you take the rules for—the ones even the Crown Prince humbly follows?"
Lorenzo spread his arms skyward dramatically, then glared daggers.
I knew the Belmonts' baseless North hate, but figured it'd be from Lucia.
Not her bro.
"...I just wanted to come to the academy. No intent to break rules."
Judged arguing wouldn't help, so I bowed low to defuse.
"Oh, so that Northern Duke pulled strings. Cozying up to demons must've rubbed off on his thinking too, huh?"
Lorenzo dragged my dad into it.
"...Touch me all you want."
That instant, my ice attribute ether leaked a bit.
Trying to let it slide humbly, but you're begging for it.
"But insulting my family? Unforgivable. I challenge you to a one-on-one duel, Lorenzo Belmont. Scared? Run now."
Family insult, image refresh—perfect excuse.
I threw down the gauntlet.
"Wh-what? Duel? You? Against me?"
Lorenzo blinked in confusion, then stared like I was insane.
Funny, right? The fragile girl who looks one-hit from death challenging him.
So he'd accept for sure.
Chance to show off crushing the North in front of everyone.
That was the plan.
Sickly beauty's great, milked it 18 years.
Now at the academy, time for a twist: sickly but powerful beauty.