The girls' dormitory building of the Royal Knights Academy was nad the 'Silver Moon Pavilion'. Legend had it that the na was personally inscribed by a certain empress of the empire.
That empress probably never imagined that the place she nad would one day house a deserter from an enemy nation.
Pavela walked down the corridor, dragging her suitcase.
The corridor was spacious. The walls on both sides were a pale beige, adorned with exquisitely designed steam sconces at regular intervals.
The floor was made of dark oak, emitting a faint creak underfoot. The air carried a scent mixed with beeswax and lavender, clearly used specifically to repel insects and eliminate odors.
Much better than the accommodation conditions on the battlefield.
Pavela gave this place a seven out of ten in her mind.
"Um... are you a new student?"
A timid voice ca from behind.
Pavela turned around and saw three girls in academy uniforms standing by a doorway not far away, peeking out curiously at her.
"Yes," Pavela replied with a standard, well-behaved smile. "My na is Pavela von Schwartz. Nice to et you."
She could now deliver this spiel without batting an eye or feeling her heart race.
Even she admired her own adaptability.
"schwartz?" One of the girls, a brunette, brightened. "That 'blood rose'..."
"Younger sister," Pavela nodded.
The three girls imdiately exchanged a look that scread 'Oh my god, that's amazing,' before their gazes returned to Pavela.
"So cute..." another girl with red hair muttered quietly, yet loud enough for Pavela to hear. "Like a little doll."
...
Pavela felt she should be getting used to this by now.
"Which room is yours? Do you need any help?" the brunette girl asked enthusiastically.
"No, thank you," Pavela politely declined. "My room should be just ahead."
She continued dragging her luggage forward, acutely aware of three pairs of eyes following her from behind.
Other girls ca and went in the corridor, so in uniforms, others in casual clothes.
Their reactions upon seeing Pavela were mostly similar: first a curious glance, then surprise, followed by a kind of scrutiny mixed with goodwill.
"Who's that silver-haired girl?"
"Don't know. A new student, maybe?"
"She looks so tiny, like thirteen or fourteen."
"No way, you have to be at least fifteen to enter the Royal Knights Academy..."
"But she really does look adorable. I kind of want to pinch her cheeks..."
Pavela pretended not to hear the whispers, silently morizing the face of the last person who ntioned pinching her cheeks.
She'd find an opportunity to get back at her later.
Not joking.
Absolutely not.
...
Probably not.
She looked down at the room card in her hand: 307.
307... 307...
Found it.
Pavela stopped in front of a dark brown wooden door.
A brass plate engraved with the number '307' hung on the door.
The academy, in order to 'provide a certain degree of accommodation for commoner students' and to 'adapt to the harsh conditions of the battlefield in advance,' stipulated that all students must reside in the academy-provided dormitories during their studies and were not allowed to bring personal servants.
Pavela guessed these rules were probably to prevent certain young nobles from moving their entire estates inside.
The dorm rooms were for two.
This ant she would have a roommate.
Eleanor had told her that roommate assignnts were random, at least in theory.
In practice, nobles were usually paired with nobles, and commoners with commoners.
But occasionally, 'accidents' happened—like a noble offending the administrative staff in charge of assignnts, or a commoner having a special letter of recomndation.
Pavela didn't know what kind of roommate she would be assigned.
To be honest, she didn't much care.
As long as the other person didn't snore, didn't rummage through her things, and didn't suddenly scream in the middle of the night, she could accept it.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
The room was slightly larger than she had imagined.
Two single beds were placed against the left and right walls, separated by a small tea table in the middle.
Each bed had a nightstand and a wardrobe beside it. A desk sat by the window, with a steam desk lamp on it.
The window was double-hung and currently wide open, the evening breeze gently swaying the beige curtains.
Compared to guest rooms in so noble estates, this place was indeed plain.
But for Pavela, it was already an outrageously luxurious level.
There was a bed.
There was a desk.
Not a layer of moldy straw on an iron fra, but a real bed with a mattress, pillows, and blankets.
Hmm.
And a window.
And...
Uh...
Pavela's train of thought ca to an abrupt halt.
A half-naked person.
By the bed on the left, a girl stood with her back to the door.
She had just co out of the shower—evident from her damp hair and the water droplets still clinging to her skin.
She wore only a white towel wrapped around her waist, revealing her bare back and shoulders, using another towel to dry her hair.
Short, reddish-brown hair.
Smooth, well-defined back muscles.
Pavela's gaze involuntarily drifted down an inch.
Hmm, good waist-to-hip ratio.
Pavela gave a ntal thumbs-up.
"Oh, you're here? Great!"
The girl spoke without turning around, her voice unexpectedly friendly, even enthusiastic, as if welcoming a long-awaited friend.
"I'm Natasha Petrova. You can call Natasha, or Nata, or whatever. I'm not picky about that. You can put your luggage over there. The right wardrobe is empty. I've already checked it for you—no bugs or mold. Feel free to use it."
She continued drying her hair as she ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) spoke, her movents casual and natural.
"The bathroom's over there. Hot water is unlimited—the academy is quite generous in that regard. But the water pressure sotis drops suddenly. They say it's because the steam pipes are old. If the water turns cold mid-shower, don't panic. Just wait ten seconds or so. Oh, and the academy only provides one set of soap and towels. If you didn't bring extras, I have spares you can borrow."
"Anyway, we're roommates now. If you need anything, just ask! I may not have many talents, but I'm strong. Moving stuff? Leave it to . What's your na?"
Pavela stood at the doorway, silently listening to this long monologue.
She blinked.
This kid talks fast—already on par with Eileen.
"Hello," she responded politely.
"My na is Pavela. Pavela von Schwartz."
Natasha stopped drying her hair.
The air seed to freeze in that instant.
Pavela could almost see the stiffness travel through that back—starting from the shoulders, down the spine, all the way to the toes, which tensed up.
Natasha slowly turned her head.
Her blue eyes were wide open, filled with disbelief.
Water droplets fell from her hair, making faint sounds as they hit the floor.
The two of them stared at each other.
One, a silver-haired girl in a crimson dress, dragging a suitcase, looking like a lost little princess.
The other, a girl with reddish-brown hair, wrapped only in a towel, dripping wet, with clearly defined muscles.
Silence.
A long silence.
Then, Pavela raised her hand and gave a little wave.
"Nice figure," she comnted sincerely.
"Very nice, really."
Natasha's face flushed crimson.
It wasn't just a blush of shyness, but a complex mix of shock, anger, and embarrassnt burning beneath her skin.
"You—!"
She abruptly grabbed a pillow from the bed and hurled it at Pavela.
Pavela sidestepped. The pillow brushed past her ear and hit the door behind her with a dull thud.
"Not bad strength either," Pavela remarked.
"Get out!!"
"This is my room too."
"Then turn around!!"
"Okay."
Pavela cooperatively turned around, facing the door.
From behind ca the sounds of frantic rustling and muffled exclamations—likely Natasha scrambling to get dressed.
Pavela stared at the wood grain on the door and let out a sigh.
So the girl on the train, who was full of hostility and acted like she feared nothing, could have this kind of reaction too.
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