3. The Body Heat Remaining on My Fingertips
3. The Body Heat Remaining on My Fingertips
I'm screwed.
Really, in every sense, I'm screwed.
Even after Roseline's back disappeared from view, I stood there for a while. Everyone else was already moving to their assigned auditoriums and classrooms, and the commotion in the hall was gradually fading. Yet it felt like my time alone had stopped right there.
My fingertips felt strange.
To be precise, my right hand—the one that had brushed against her earlier—kept bothering me.
It was the body temperature that had briefly touched through the glove. Too short to call it a grab, too distinct to brush off as a mere graze. Even though that was all it was, the sensation lingering at my fingertips just wouldn't go away.
I slowly curled my hand into a fist.
Am I crazy?
Is this Serena's body causing problems?
Or has my mind already been contaminated to some degree?
Either way, the conclusion was the same: I have to keep my distance from Roseline Vellois.
Just then, a calm voice came from behind me.
"Milady."
I turned my head reflexively.
A woman with neatly tied dark gray-brown hair stood there. Calm gray eyes, an excessively tidy posture, and a student council assistant armband worn over her uniform. Before memory could catch up, instinct brought her name to mind.
Isabel Lowen.
The woman who had long worked at Serena's side—essentially her shadow.
"Lady Lowen."
The name rolled off my tongue naturally. Fortunately, my expression probably didn't seem too awkward.
Isabel gave a slight bow.
"The orientation venue has been changed. It was originally Auditorium B in the main building, but due to His Highness the Crown Prince's schedule, it's been moved to the Central Auditorium."
"I see."
"I came to guide you."
She let her gaze drop for just a moment.
Toward my right hand.
It seemed she had noticed my gloved fingers unconsciously curling. I casually straightened my hand.
"Is something the matter?"
"Not a matter, but—"
Isabel chose her words quietly.
"The way you looked at Lady Vellois was more blatant than expected."
I felt my breath catch in my throat.
I narrowed my eyes immediately. "Blatant?"
"Yes."
"Is there a reason I shouldn't give such a look when evaluating someone I'm seeing for the first time?"
"Yes, there is."
Her answer was so plain that I was momentarily speechless.
This was the kind of woman Isabel had always been. She said what needed to be said, even to Serena.
"At least if you don't wish to be ruined, Milady."
At that, I raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.
In the original work, Serena wasn't yet at the point where she needed to worry about ruin. So Isabel's words now were probably a metaphor. A warning not to recklessly touch the dangerous situation tangled with the Crown Prince, Roseline, and the eyes of the noble houses.
But the word happened to be so accurate that a chill ran down my spine.
"Did it look that dangerous to you too?"
"I've always been good at recognizing dangerous things."
"You're avoiding the question."
"That's no different from an affirmation."
I looked at Isabel for a moment, then swallowed a bitter laugh.
If only I could just run away after the prologue. The problem is that the place I'm standing now is already in the middle of the main story.
"Isabel."
"Yes, Milady."
"Are Lady Vellois and I in the same class?"
Isabel's gaze flickered for just a moment. Very brief, but enough. She must have anticipated I'd ask that question.
"Yes. First-year Class A."
"And practical groups?"
"Not the same."
A sense of relief almost came first. But right after that, an odd twinge of regret brushed past me, and I mentally slapped my own head.
I wasn't in my right mind.
Isabel added, as if seeing right through my internal state.
"However, most liberal arts classes and common lectures overlap. Given the freshman schedule, you'll encounter her often."
"...Unnecessarily kind."
"I judged it to be information Milady needs."
She wasn't wrong.
I let out a short breath and started walking. The corridor toward the Central Auditorium was already crowded with freshmen. The edges of cloaks embroidered with various family crests brushed past, and the scent of unfamiliar perfumes mixed with nervous breaths, making the air strangely heavy.
Serena was the kind of woman who made people clear a path just by walking.
Until a moment ago, I'd only found that inconvenient and tiresome, but now it was rather fortunate. At least no one came close, giving me time to arrange my expression.
Inside the Central Auditorium, it was splendid. Red carpet, banners bearing the imperial crest, silver candlesticks lining the upper balcony. Faculty and noble attendants moved busily, while students sat divided by class.
I followed the guidance toward Class A's seating.
Even so, I tried my best to keep my gaze fixed straight ahead.
But in the end, I saw her.
By the window on the third row.
That pink hair was easier to spot than I'd thought.
Roseline was already seated. Her hands neatly folded, she sat quietly facing forward without engaging in unnecessary conversation with other students. Outwardly, she seemed calm. But up close, I could see that calm wasn't perfect serenity—it was built on a tension straining not to break.
The woman whose wrist I'd grabbed earlier.
No, it was more of a brush than a grab.
Yet even so, I wondered if that brief contact still lingered with her, because Roseline's right hand remained hidden beneath her left.
My gaze stuck to that sight.
She's hiding it.
Why?
Because it was unpleasant?
Because it was annoying?
Or... because she's conscious of it?
Something stirred uncomfortably in my chest.
"Milady."
Isabel's low voice brushed past my ear.
I finally snapped out of it and tore my gaze away from Roseline. Glancing around, I saw two young ladies seated nearby whispering, glancing at me furtively. Had they noticed who I was looking at?
Damn it.
I chose a seat at the very back where I had a wide view. Isabel sat two rows behind with the other student council assistants. That gave me a little time to catch my breath.
Soon, the entrance ceremony began.
The principal's long, formal speech followed, and the Crown Prince Adrian added a textbook congratulatory address about the future of the empire's noble society or something. Most students pretended to listen, while about half wore bored expressions.
I was similar.
But even in my boredom, my gaze kept drifting forward.
Roseline never once broke her posture. She showed no signs of boredom, fatigue, or dissatisfaction—just sat there neatly. There was a certain stillness characteristic of someone used to enduring.
People like that... when their balance crumbles even a little, they shake all the more tragically.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut.
Is this my thought?
Or Serena's instinct?
"...Ha."
Whether she heard my barely audible breath, the young lady next to me flinched. I quickly returned to a blank expression, as if nothing had happened.
After the entrance ceremony, class orientation followed. The supervising professor droned on at length about noble etiquette, academy rules, and future curriculum. The problem wasn't the lecture content—it was the seating arrangement.
Roseline was within my line of sight.
Exactly two rows ahead, diagonally.
If I lifted my head just a little, I could see her.
Her hand taking notes.
Her neatly aligned toes.
Her shoulders stiffening for just a moment when a question was asked.
Those trivial details were unbearably vivid.
The professor posed a question to the students.
"What do you, as freshmen, think is the most important thing to learn at this academy?"
A common question. One young lady stood and spoke of loyalty to the imperial family. Another young lord mentioned dignity befitting a noble. The professor nodded as if vaguely satisfied.
Then his gaze turned toward Roseline.
"Lady Vellois, what is your opinion?"
At the sudden nomination, the air in the lecture hall shifted slightly. Everyone probably remembered the pink-haired young lady who had been entangled with the Crown Prince earlier. Roseline stood up from her seat after a moment's hesitation.
Her hesitation wasn't long.
"I believe it's how to endure."
A quiet voice.
But that single remark made the classroom eerily silent.
Even the professor looked surprised. "How to endure?"
"Yes. Regardless of which family one comes from or what talent one possesses, I've heard that in the end, the ones who last are those who endure to the very end."
It was a trivial answer.
But hearing it, my throat inexplicably grew hot.
Right.
Even in the original work, that woman always endured.
Amid the terrible plot,
Among the pathetic male leads,
Through meaningless hardships and humiliations.
She never completely crumbled.
"An interesting answer."
The professor smiled appropriately and moved on. Subtle glances passed among the surrounding students. Some nodded; others looked like they didn't understand.
I quietly clenched and unclenched my fingertips.
How to endure.
Why did those words hit me so hard?
The orientation ended, and students scattered in small groups. A short break was given before lunch. Most gathered with students from their own families or hurried to check their dormitory routes.
Normally, I would have headed straight to the annex lounge. As a high-ranking noble daughter like Serena, it was already decided who she should associate with and whom she should avoid.
But my feet wouldn't easily move in that direction.
Because at the end of the corridor, near the window, I saw Roseline standing alone.
She was catching her breath in a spot away from the crowd, pretending to look down at the documents in her hand. But in truth, she was probably trying to secure some time to herself. Her shoulders were still slightly tense, as if the tension hadn't fully eased.
The moment I saw that, my legs stopped on their own.
I can't go.
I barely managed to tear my gaze away back in the classroom; if I approach her again here, there's really no hope.
Yet my feet wouldn't move easily.
Just then, I saw two other young ladies approach Roseline. Their faces were familiar. I couldn't recall their names, but they were daughters of high-ranking noble families I'd seen a few times in the original work's early background.
"Lady Vellois."
A sickeningly sweet voice.
Roseline turned around. "What is it?"
"You received His Highness's direct help earlier, didn't you? You must have quite a knack for standing out on the very first day."
That was a sneer.
Roseline's expression showed she caught it immediately.
"It was just a simple mistake."
"I'm sure it was. But from an onlooker's perspective, it's easy to misunderstand."
"Misunderstand?"
"Oh, nothing. I mean, that you did it on purpose."
The moment I heard that far, the inside of my head went cold.
A stereotypical scene.
Even in the original work, similar steps had occurred. As soon as the Crown Prince gave Roseline even a little attention, those around her attached meaning to it, became aggressive first, and pushed first.
Roseline didn't say anything for a moment.
Instead, the hand gripping the edge of her document folder tightened.
That hand.
It was the same just now.
The more she tried to endure, the more her fingertips stiffened.
Seeing that, an inexplicable irritation surged up.
Who told them to touch her first?
No, more than that.
That kind of face.
That kind of expression.
I want to see it only in front of me.
The thought connected so smoothly that it was almost eerie.
Without time to collect myself, I moved my body.
At the sound of my heels, three pairs of eyes turned toward me simultaneously.
The expressions of the two young ladies stiffened noticeably.
Roseline also looked surprised.
I walked right up to them and stopped. My gaze went to Roseline first. As expected, she was tense. Her eyes tried to sharpen, but at the same time, I could read confusion—as if she couldn't figure out why I was here.
Seeing that expression, something inside me slowly began to heat up again.
Really.
"Looks like you were having some interesting conversation."
As I opened my mouth, the two young ladies hastily offered their respects.
"L-Lady Edelhardt."
"We were just—"
"I didn't ask."
I cut them off coldly, and both fell silent.
I slowly moved my gaze and swept it over them. At times like this, Serena's face was really convenient. Even without any particular expression, it was enough to intimidate people.
"I didn't know you had a hobby of whispering such low-grade remarks in the middle of a corridor."
"That wasn't our intention."
"Of course it wasn't."
I smiled.
Very shallow and cold.
"If that was your intention, you wouldn't have ended it just by standing here like this."
The two young ladies' faces stiffened completely. They must have understood the implication.
The surrounding air dropped instantly.
Roseline also seemed to hold her breath, looking at me. It was a different kind of tension than before. Her face showed she couldn't decide whether I had saved her or was dragging her into even greater trouble.
And that, again, was unbearably beautiful.
I forced my gaze away and spoke.
"Excuse me, Lady Vellois."
The two young ladies quickly stepped aside. I deliberately didn't look back until they were far away.
Only the two of us remained in the corridor.
Silence stretched for a few seconds.
Roseline spoke first.
"...Why did you interfere?"
Good question.
I was curious too.
Why did I?
Why did my feet move first the moment I heard those women's words?
"Because it bothered me."
That's what came out in the end.
Roseline's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "Me?"
No.
Those people speaking recklessly in front of you.
But I couldn't say that.
Instead, I tilted my head.
"Because Lady Vellois doesn't need to be the target of such childish talk."
Roseline looked at me for a moment.
Her eyes seemed to be judging whether she could trust me, whether she should be wary, or whether things had become even more dangerous.
"...You're kind."
The answer sounded somewhat sarcastic, and I almost laughed despite myself.
"Do I look like that?"
"No."
The reply was so immediate that this time I almost really laughed.
Only then did Roseline seem to realize what she'd said, and she closed her lips. Too late. It was already too honest. I could see her cheeks flush just a little.
Ah.
That expression, like right before those trembling eyes.
My breath slowly grew hot.
"You're honest, Lady Vellois."
"Because I don't think it's necessary to lie."
"That's a good attitude."
I took a step closer.
Not by much.
But definitely closer than just a moment ago.
Roseline's shoulders tensed just a little. She didn't run away. But she hadn't relaxed either. That face, poised on that boundary line, was maddeningly provocative.
"However."
I continued in a low voice.
"From now on, it might be better to be honest only after choosing your opponent carefully."
Roseline's breath shallowed for just a moment.
"...That sounds like a threat."
"If it were a threat, it would have been more blatant."
"Then is it advice?"
"I wonder."
I looked down at her.
Eyes that couldn't come to a conclusion, but also couldn't back down.
A face that was displeased and wary, yet at the same time waiting for my next words.
Just a few words, and it showed that much.
My head spun with heat.
"It's up to Lady Vellois to decide how to take it."
At that, Roseline's expression twisted slightly.
Probably because she'd received the same phrase back again.
She remembered.
The fact pleased me, striking my chest.
I barely suppressed the urge to stay longer. I couldn't now. If I pushed any further, I felt like I'd go at a speed I couldn't reverse.
"You should go back before lunchtime ends."
Even as I said that, my feet didn't move immediately.
Roseline was the same.
After a brief silence, she spoke first.
"Lady Edelhardt."
"Go ahead."
"Why do you keep looking at me?"
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
Too direct.
Too accurate.
I couldn't answer for a few seconds. Roseline seemed to realize belatedly that her question might have been rude, and her gaze wavered. But she didn't retract it. Her face waited for an answer until the end.
And that, again, made me unable to stand it.
Why do I look?
Because you're pretty.
Because you're shaken.
Because you look like you're about to crumble.
But you refuse to crumble until the very end.
Everything is exactly to my taste.
My throat grew hot and dry.
I slowly lifted the corners of my mouth.
"Because Lady Vellois keeps catching my eye."
Half a lie, half the truth.
Roseline didn't react immediately to my answer. Instead, she swallowed once. Her pale violet eyes trembled minutely.
In that moment,
Deep in my lower abdomen, a dull thud resonated.
Ah.
Really.
That's too erotic.
I barely maintained my expression as I turned around.
"Don't be late for the next class."
And I walked away without looking back.
My steps were calm.
My back was straight, the sound of my heels was steady—anyone looking would see the unshakable Duchess Edelhardt's daughter.
But inside, it was entirely different.
My heart was pounding.
My fingertips were hot, and my lower abdomen throbbed heavily.
It was just one question.
Just those words—why do you keep looking at me.
Yet my body reacted first.
I'm crazy.
Really.
After rounding the end of the corridor, I let out a short breath.
This is serious.
Now I know.
The reason I need to avoid Roseline isn't just because I don't want to tread the path of ruin.
When I stand in front of that woman,
I keep understanding Serena.
And someday, it won't end at just understanding.
That fact is terrifying and,
incredibly sweet.