The ordinary carriage and the noble carriage were two different worlds.
The seats were made of hardwood and packed tightly together.
Every seat was occupied—workers, farrs, small vendors, won with children.
Their clothes were simple, even tattered, and their faces bore the marks of life.
The luggage racks were piled high with all sorts of bundles, crates, and baskets, and there were even a few live chickens with their legs tied.
The air was thick with the sll of sweat, food, and cheap tobacco.
The noisy chatter, the crying of children, and the roar of the wheels grinding against the tracks blended together to form a peculiar din.
Pavela walked down the aisle, and the people around her cast curious or wary glances.
She was now wearing a deep red casual dress, her short silver hair neatly tied back—from any angle, she was a noble miss who did not belong here.
"Who is that?"
"Looks like soone from a wealthy family..."
"Why did she co over here?"
Whispers arose behind her.
Pavela paid them no mind.
She was looking at their faces.
A middle-aged man in worn-out overalls, his hands covered in calluses and scars, as if he had worked in a factory his entire life.
A young woman holding an infant, with dark circles under her eyes, yet still softly humming a lullaby.
A group of young people in uniform gray outfits—
Pavela paused.
The uniforms of that group of young people were not factory uniforms.
Gray coats, with an emblem embroidered on the left chest—crossed swords and a gear, with a knight's helt above.
The school emblem of the Royal Knights Academy.
"Students from the academy."
Eleanor whispered in her ear, "Not all students at the Royal Knights Academy are nobles. Every year, a certain number of spots are given to commoners; as long as they pass the assessnt, they can enroll. The tuition is covered by the Empire, and they must serve for at least ten years after graduation in return."
Pavela looked at the group of students.
There were about five or six of them, and they looked to be about her age.
They were sitting together, so reading, so whispering about sothing, and others staring blankly out the window.
Their clothes were much neater than those of the ordinary passengers around them, but compared to the silks and satins in the noble carriage, they seed simple to the point of being shabby.
A subtle sense of being "stuck in the middle."
Just then, soone in the group of students noticed Pavela and Eleanor.
"Look, a noble."
A voice ca from that direction, neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for Pavela to hear.
Pavela looked in the direction of the voice.
The speaker was a girl, about sixteen or seventeen, with ssy brownish-red hair tied back, and her blue eyes held a trace of wariness and... disdain?
"Natasha, don't be like that."
A boy wearing glasses next to her tugged on her sleeve and whispered, "What if she's so big shot—"
"So what if she's a big shot?"
The girl nad Natasha lifted her chin, "This is a public carriage, not her family's back garden. She can co, and I can look. What's the problem?"
Pavela locked eyes with her.
The girl's gaze did not waver, staring straight at her, as if scrutinizing or perhaps provoking her.
Interesting.
Pavela thought to herself.
This was the first ti since arriving in Victoriana that she had t a peer who had no intention of currying favor with her.
"Let's go."
Eleanor gently nudged her elbow, signaling her to continue forward.
Pavela did not move.
She looked at the girl nad Natasha and suddenly spoke, "Are you a student at the Royal Knights Academy?"
The entire carriage went quiet for a mont.
The group of students all looked up, regarding Pavela with various expressions.
Natasha narrowed her eyes.
"So what if I am?"
"Freshman or senior?"
"...Freshman."
A hint of wariness crept into Natasha's tone, "Why do you ask?"
"Because I am also a freshman."
The corners of Pavela's mouth curled up slightly.
"We should see each other after school starts."
Natasha was stunned.
Then, her expression beca even more complex—surprise, suspicion, and a hint of undisguised hostility.
"You? A freshman at the Royal Knights Academy?"
She looked Pavela up and down, taking in her dress, her hair ribbon, and her obedient, gentle appearance.
"On what grounds? Because your dad has money?"
"Natasha!"
The boy with glasses turned pale, "Are you crazy? This is—"
"It's fine."
Pavela interrupted him.
"Her question is quite reasonable."
Natasha frowned.
She clearly had not expected this reaction from Pavela.
"I don't know on what grounds either."
Pavela said, "Maybe it's luck, maybe it's sothing else. But since we will be at the sa academy, I think..."
She paused, tilted her head, and offered a harmless-looking smile.
"...we should at least rember each other's faces, right?"
Natasha was silent for a few seconds.
Then, she let out a cold snort.
"Rembered."
She said, her tone stiff.
"The silver-haired noble in the red dress."
"Pavela."
Pavela corrected, "Pavela von Schwartz."
"schwartz?"
Another student gasped, "That Schwartz Family?"
Natasha's expression shifted slightly.
But she quickly resud her dismissive deanor.
"Got it."
She said, "The young miss from the Schwartz Family."
Pavela nodded and turned to leave.
Eleanor followed behind her, and only after they had left that carriage did she speak.
"You are very interested in that girl."
"Are you sure?"
"Your eyes told so."
There was a hint of amusent in Eleanor's tone.
"That kind of look, you usually only have when you et soone interesting."
Pavela thought about it.
"She is very direct."
"Is that a strength or a weakness?"
"Depends on the situation."
Eleanor chuckled.
"Natasha Petrova."
She said, "I heard others call her na. If I rember correctly, there is a girl among this year's commoner freshn who ranked first in the assessnt, and it seems that's her na."
Pavela glanced back in the direction of that carriage.
Natasha Petrova.
The commoner freshman who ranked first in the assessnt.
She is an usar person.
"Interesting."
She said softly.
...
They continued forward, passing through two more ordinary carriages.
Pavela looked at the scenery passing by outside the window and listened to the various sounds around her.
An old man was telling his grandson a story about a knight defeating a dragon.
Two workers were discussing how an the new foreman at the factory was.
A girl was coaxing her little brother, saying that they would see their father once they arrived in Eisenburg.
"Eleanor."
"What [N O V E L I G H T] is it?"
"These people," Pavela's gaze swept over the passengers in the carriage, "do they know what war is like?"
Eleanor was silent for a mont.
"Most people don't."
Her voice was very soft.
"To them, war is just news in the papers, talk in the taverns. They know people are fighting on the front lines, but that is a distant, abstract thing. Only when the conscription order arrives at ho, or when bad news cos from the front, does war beco sothing real."
Pavela nodded.
She understood this feeling.
When she was in the Punishnt Camp, she had also wondered—did the people in the rear, living lives free from want, know that she was dying for them?
But now, standing here, looking at the faces of these ordinary people.
She found that she did not have much anger.
They were not the people who decided the war.
They were just ordinary people swept up in the torrent of the tis, trying hard to survive, trying hard to live.
Just as she had once done in the Punishnt Camp.
"Let's go."
Pavela turned around.
"Let's go back."
"Seen enough?"
"Just about."
They returned the way they ca, passing through the connecting section, and back to the noble carriage.
The carpet reappeared under their feet, and the sll of soot in the air was replaced by the scent of perfu and tea.
Pavela glanced back at the door of the connecting section.
The door closed, separating the two worlds.
But the track was the sa one.
Carrying everyone, heading in the sa direction.
In the distance, rolling mountains began to appear on the horizon.
Eisenburg would soon be reached.
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