The sound of scribbling filled the spacious storage room of the academy’s grand hall.
The sound ca from alone, jotting down the missing notes needed for tomorrow’s reevaluation of our performance in preparing today’s ball.
Instead of the perfu-filled scent of the halls outside, I could only taste dust and tal in this dimly lit room. I was still wearing my beautiful, now uncomfortable to wear, yellow dress, as I continued my work.
The fabric that was soft monts ago now felt like an uncomfortable second skin. So much for a night of celebration.
A sigh escaped before I could stop it. I’d barely had a chance to breathe, let alone enjoy the party I’d helped organize.
Not only did the board decide on the admitted students far too late, but they hadn’t even moved the ball’s deadline to accommodate it.
These last few weeks were a hurricane of logistics and a scheduling nightmare.
But still, I pushed through. As a newly appointed Student Council President, I couldn’t afford to screw up any events under my na.
But, even acknowledging my accomplishnts, it still didn’t help with how irritated I was.
The mont I was pulled away from Feyt, things had been a rapid descent into this administrative chaos.
A student, whose na I couldn’t even begin to rember, complained because his friends didn’t make the guest list. Apparently, it was a problem that was seen as worthy of pulling to diate.
I had tried to explain that the invitees were to bring two guests only each, to accommodate the larger than usual student count for this year. But, like always, so just won’t listen to common sense.
I ran a hand over my face, leaning back into the cheap wooden chair, its legs creaking underneath .
Through the open door, I could see the othe council mbers and staff working together to tidy up the now empty and echoing grand hall. After a mont of silence, I returned to my own work.
I tried to focus on the report before , but as my hands glided across the paper, a voice carried itself into the storage room.
A small group of council mbers, thinking themselves out of earshot, were taking a break near the doorway.
“—I still can’t see Lord Leo losing,” one voice said, a female student. It sounded like this was a continuation of a previous conversation they had. “He was the obvious choice, right?”
“I know, right?” another concurred with a heavy sigh. “Aaagh I wanna work under Lord Leooo If only the Saint didn’t run for president too~!”
“Shhh, keep your voice down!” the first girl hissed, though she didn't sound truly concerned. “But seriously, though. How did she win? You think she, you know, got so help?”
“Help?”
“I don’t know, maybe soone like Prince Julient? Haven’t you seen how close she was to him lately? He even popped into her office while I was cleaning, looking for her.”
“Ugh, the Third Prince has his eyes on her?” the other girl said. “No wonder she won, then.”
My hand had stilled, slight drops of ink dropping onto the paper below. The words from the hallway, though low and muttered, echoed clearly in this quiet room.
The Third Prince… So that’s their angle now.
A quiet, tired chuckle escaped before I could stop it. It had been a while since my selection, but the whispers never truly ceased. They never dared to say it to my face, of course, but it still surprised how their theories endlessly evolved, never settling on one.
I gave a single shake of my head, clearing my head of those thoughts, and forced my eyes back down onto the paperwork.
The night continued to waste away as I did the last few lines of the report.
But as I wrote down the last few paragraphs of the paperwork, a question ca to .
I wonder how Feyt’s doing.
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My mind replayed the mont I took the dance floor with him. A soft chuckle escaped . His eyes had darted everywhere but at , his hands trembling slightly in mine. It was clear that he knew the steps, but dancing with a real partner was sothing new to him.
I closed my eyes, leaning back in my chair as the mory played out. I was leading him through the steps, quietly humming the counts, gently guiding him whenever he wavered. I… wasn’t good with dancing myself, but with him, I felt like I wanted to do my best.
But as the mory continued to play… my smile faltered.
The partner switching.
I had expected for us to switch partners as per the dance routine, but… I hadn’t expected she would be his partner. The surprise had been so sharp, I’d gasped aloud.
Yet, that alone hadn't been what stung. It was what ca after.
Feyt, who had been nervous and jittery with , was suddenly gliding across the floor with Carine with perfect elegance. His steps were filled with confidence, as if he knew neither he nor she would ruin the other’s step. His eyes were focused on his partner. He didn’t speak, he didn’t stumble. It was as if nothing else existed in his mind but the dance.
I couldn’t take my gaze off. They were so in sync, so perfectly balanced, it gave everyone an utterly srizing sight.
It made think, was he even there when he danced with ?
I tried to rationalize it away, of course. My mind scrambled for excuses.
Of course, he was focused. He was dancing with the Ducal Heir, the top scorer. Anyone would be nervous. It was only natural.
But the rationale, so carefully constructed, began to crumble as the mory of the sight replayed behind my eyes.
It wasn't just focus I had seen on his face. It was… sothing else.
Sothing that even I could no longer ignore.
Driven by a need for closure, I had approached him after the dance, hoping to ask what he truly thought. Perhaps I was overthinking things, perhaps he really was just nervous.
…
I had found him looking dazed, still catching his breath near the edge of the dance floor.
A gentle tap on his shoulder made him jump.
When he turned, he was clearly still overwheld by sothing.
“A-Ah, Clara!” he said.
Trying to be lighthearted, I’d smiled. "Hi there. You danced pretty well for soone new."
“A-Ah, yes. I did train a few tis…” he explained.
But the image of his dance with Carine was burning behind my eyes. "That said, you seem to dance a lot more freely with... her," I mumbled, almost to myself, unable to hold it back.
I quickly tried to cover it with a more general question. "So, how was the dance?"
His face went blank. "The dance?" he parroted, before offering a limp, "It was… alright?"
Just alright?
After what I had just witnessed between him and Carine? The word felt like a dismissal of the entire thing everyone just saw. My smile tightened despite my best efforts. "Just alright?"
I saw the panic flash in his eyes. He was backtracking, scrambling to correct himself. "A-Actually, it was the best," he said, scratching the back of his head.
My eyes widened. "The best?" I couldn't keep the surprise from my voice.
Dancing with Carine was the best…
"Is that… how you really feel?"
He must have seen the doubt on my face. He leaned in, giving that cheerful, warm smile I was starting to adore. "Yeah, I’m sure! This is a night I’ll never forget!" he said with a bright, honest tone.
The honest words were basically a stab in the chest.
He wasn't just being polite. The way he said it… it was genuine and sincere. That ant that every step and turn he had taken with her was etched into his mory forever.
anwhile, I…
"I… I see," I murmured. "So it was that morable for you…"
Was dancing with not as morable?
I had to know. I had to hear him say it.
"Feyt, tell , was dancing with not—"
"—President Clara?!" A frantic voice cut through the air, shattering the mont. And that was when I was pulled away by duty…
…
I returned to my reality. Alone in the storage room. The final report was signed, the ink was drying.
From the grand hall outside, I could hear the distant sounds of the other council mbers leaving, their cheerful goodbyes echoing as they headed for their dorms
But I decided to remain in the quiet, spacious room for a mont longer.
My body felt heavy. My energy sapped away.
I let my body slump forward, resting my forehead against the cool, grainy wood of the small desk.
I wondered. What was making feel this way?
Was it just stress from the event?
Anger at the gossip?
Or the cold of the night?
But no matter how much I tried to convince myself that things were much simpler, the truth was already clear to .
The ball had been a success. Through the tough deadline and sotis incompetent council mbers, the ball had worked out great.
Yet, I had lost in a battle I hadn’t even realized I was in. And I lost spectacularly.
And of course, she was at the center of it.
Carine Sareid.
The sole heir of a dukedom.
The highest-ranked family mber in the Royal Knights in years.
She was born to glide through a life of fa and wealth. Every move she made was t with awe and praise.
anwhile, people like had to crawl for every scrap. Even after my hard work to reach where I stood, many still didn’t put their trust in . They would rather gossip behind my back about my thods.
A highborn like her didn’t have to try. The mont she walked in, people would've praised her for just breathing.
…It would be stupid to just lie down and accept it.
I stood up from the creaking chair, silently packing up the items before into my bag. After that, I slowly made my way out of the storage room, into the empty grand hall, and then out into the academy grounds.
As I made my way back to my dorm, my mind was racing about the upcoming sester.
How should I greet him when I see him again?
Where should I take him first for the tour?
How should I act around him?
Whatever the thod, I was going to make sure he saw . No, not just that, but also for him to rember . I wouldn’t lose to a re privilege or class.
I wore my usual smile as I watched the moon in the sky.
Next ti, I’ll be morable for sure.
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