The Price Is Your Everything - Chapter 3: A Beauty That Catches the Eye

The entrance ceremony was a solemn affair.

The Academy had its roots in the vision of Princess Katerina, who 120 years ago gathered the empire’s nobles to seek out knowledgeable individuals and learn from them. The gathering eventually grew into what is now the city of Carten.

Traces of emperors from history lingered throughout the city, and saints left stories of miracles witnessed there. By imperial law, every noble child above the rank of baron was required to attend the Academy from the ages of 12 to 19.

Although framed as voluntary education, in reality, it was a means of securing hostages. This rule applied even to the imperial family.

For this year’s entrance ceremony, the person standing at the podium was none other than the 17-year-old Crown Prince, flanked by members of the student council.

The prince’s navy-blue eyes had a unique luminescence, as though they emitted their own light. Even students standing at the very back of the hall found themselves captivated.

These were no ordinary eyes—they were the gemstone-like eyes of the Bistor lineage, the rare trait symbolizing their descent from the ancient hero Bistor, one of the three warriors who had defeated the evil dragon and laid the foundation of the empire.

Every generation of the imperial family saw at least one member born with these extraordinary eyes. It was likely this rarity that led the other two heroes to pledge their allegiance to Bistor, establishing the imperial line.

In this generation, the prince’s elder sister, Princess Camille, also possessed the same eyes, a testament to their noble heritage.

Crown Prince Abelus scanned the first-year students with a piercing gaze, as if trying to discern their worth.

“How do you think the three heroes, as mere mortals, managed to achieve such remarkable feats against the dragon Kion?”

Abelus’s abrupt question left most students exchanging confused glances. A few, however, had eyes that lit up with interest, and he made note of them. Whether capable or not, those who dared to answer were useful to the imperial family.

“They used magic!” a girl exclaimed.

Abelus directed a sharp look her way.

“At this school, you are to follow proper decorum. Raise your hand and wait to be called upon before speaking,” he instructed.

Embarrassed, the girl quickly closed her mouth. Abelus surveyed the hall with satisfaction as more students timidly raised their hands.

Groomed to be the next emperor, Abelus had learned from a young age how to enforce discipline. Publicly calling out someone’s misstep was an effective way to instill silence among subordinates.

“You there, Megara. Answer the question.”

Among the new students, no one stood out more than Megara Lykeandros.

The crown jewel of the Marquess of Lykeandros’s family, Megara was already acquainted with Abelus, and he called her name without hesitation.

Though raised with impeccable manners, Megara appeared momentarily surprised by the prince addressing her so casually in public.

Even her startled expression, however, captivated the boys around her—Megara was undeniably stunning.

“I believe it was their courage,” she replied, paying homage to Bistor, the hero and ancestor of the imperial family.

Of course, if asked directly, she would have added that all three heroes must have been courageous to even consider facing the dragon.

Clever girl, Abelus thought with a smile. Beautiful and intelligent—she would undoubtedly make waves in high society someday.

“Not wrong, but not the answer I was seeking,” Abelus said, his gaze sweeping the hall as some students lowered their hands in disappointment.

Even those who hesitated to raise their hands at all had their merits, Abelus thought. With proper nurturing, they could still be useful.

Then his eyes caught a small girl standing in an inconspicuous corner.

Her platinum blonde hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, and though she stood among the lowest-ranked students, her presence was markedly different from those around her.

Her straight posture and squared shoulders displayed a level of discipline rare for a girl her age, even among those from esteemed families. Yet her clothing was plain, lacking even a single jewel or ornament, and spoke of modest means.

What stood out most was that she kept her eyes lowered.

Her expression was blank and impassive, exuding an air of cold detachment.

While other students vied for the prince’s attention, trying to catch his eye even once, she seemed entirely uninterested in the world around her.

She was… quite pretty.

Abelus concluded that she likely didn’t come from a distinguished family but mentally noted her unique aura.

Although Megara’s lustrous honey-blonde hair was mesmerizing, within noble society, platinum blonde held greater prestige.

The girl’s delicate features—a small, oval face and a sharply defined nose—hinted at the potential to grow into a beauty surpassing even Megara.

However, her perpetually somber expression might dim that beauty if it persisted.

By now, no more students seemed eager to answer Abelus’s question. Satisfied, the prince spoke slowly and deliberately.

“I will tell you the answer. This is a lesson you must carry with you for the rest of your lives as students of this Academy. The reason the three heroes defeated the dragon, and why the Empire of Bistor has thrived, is ambition.

“Ambition is the driving force behind the advancement of humanity’s culture and the only trait that makes one person stand above another. Because of their relentless ambition, the descendants of the courageous Bistor are treated as rulers!”

The students’ eyes gleamed with admiration at the prince’s inspiring words.

Abelus smirked. He had a gift for rousing people.

Though not as cautious as his younger sister nor as cunning as his elder sister, it was this talent for persuasion that led their father to name him heir among his three children.

“As students of this Academy, you are bound by the rules of the student council from the moment you enroll. The idleness tolerated within your families will not be excused here. Any violation of the rules will be punished accordingly, while all efforts to learn will be fully supported.”

Suddenly, Abelus felt a prickling sensation, as though someone was staring at him intensely. He turned to find the source and glanced briefly toward the platinum blonde girl in the corner.

It was strange. The girl wasn’t looking at him—her gaze was still firmly fixed on the ground.

And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, just moments ago, she had been glaring at him with piercing intensity.

The sense that he might need to give the shabby-looking girl more thought brushed against Abelus’s instincts. But the truth was, his instincts had never been sharp.

Deciding not to waste time on an unremarkable child, Abelus instead addressed the students as a whole.

“With this, the entrance ceremony concludes. If you wish to review the rules, you may visit the student council office. Otherwise, proceed to the main hall. The dormitory supervisors will guide you.”

Carten offered dormitories tailored to what families could afford. While the number of dormitory names was endless, those housing students of interest to the student council were relatively consistent.

Abelus observed the students as they clustered together and slowly filed out of the auditorium.

—

Nerys held Diane’s hand as they walked toward the main hall. Diane mentioned that while she could manage on flat surfaces, she risked stumbling on inclines unless she had someone to steady her. Passing students were already casting glances their way.

“Do people always stare at you like that?”

Nerys’s eyes took in every child passing by. She recognized all of them—their sneering expressions and casual cruelty were unforgettable.

Though these were still young children now, Nerys knew all too well that children could be just as cruel as adults. Her mood darkened each time someone glanced at her or Diane.

“They do at first,” Diane replied with surprising maturity. Nerys didn’t voice her frustration aloud, instead silently entering the main hall.

The checkered black-and-white marble tiles alternated underfoot, and the hall buzzed with noise. New students, their attendants, and the teachers filled the space. Nerys’s gaze turned icy as she examined the teachers.

The more prominent instructors and dorm supervisors were busying themselves with the high-ranking noble children. Meanwhile, the lower-status and timid children remained off to the side, looking unsure.

To Nerys, who had once found the teachers intimidating figures of authority, they now seemed insignificant. As someone who had been a Crown Princess, they were nothing to her.

Her eyes locked onto one girl who stood out more than anyone else in the room. Honey-blonde hair, doll-like features—

It was Megara.

Standing next to her was Madam Hoffman, the most distinguished teacher here.

Though Nerys had already seen Megara during the ceremony, catching sight of her now, chin lifted proudly, triggered a deeply ingrained reflex—Nerys lowered her own head.

Even as the Crown Prince’s official wife, Nerys had often been forced to act invisible in any setting where Megara was present. Not only was the Crown Prince’s affection clearly directed toward Megara, but Nerys had been conditioned to cower before her even during their school years.

Every child here was an enemy. Though their faces were innocent and curious now, they would soon find the weakest among them to target as their toy.

And the one who designated the weakest was always the most influential student. This year, that was undoubtedly Megara.

Megara seemed to sense Nerys’s gaze and glanced in her direction.

Those violet eyes, likened to violets and endlessly praised in society after graduation, sparkled beautifully even at her young age.

– “You being in the same room as me is an insult. I don’t understand why you’re alive. Who would ever love someone like you?”

– “You stink. No matter how much you wash, the stench of living among commoners will never leave you.”

The memory of Megara’s words from years later hit Nerys like a whisper in her ear. Her heart raced as if she had just heard them spoken aloud. She averted her gaze, cold sweat running down her back, and clenched her fists tightly.

“What’s wrong?” Diane asked softly.

“Nothing,” Nerys replied, shaking her head. There was no point in explaining. Diane might seem kind now, but in time, she too would change her attitude. Everyone did eventually.

The two girls waited patiently. When one of the more approachable and popular teachers finally finished assisting another group, Nerys stepped forward to address her.

“Madam Alix.”

“Oh,” Madam Alix exclaimed in surprise at the formality of Nerys’s address. Her astonishment grew as she took in Nerys’s unusual eyes.

“You know me?”

“I overheard your introduction earlier,” Nerys said, though she hadn’t actually been listening. It was a convenient lie.

Madam Alix offered her a warm smile. She remembered Nerys’s composed demeanor during the ceremony. Despite her modest attire, Nerys’s poise suggested a highborn upbringing.

And of course, there were her violet eyes.

“You’re quite the refined young lady. Your enunciation is excellent.”

The accent Nerys used now was one reserved for those who had been tutored rigorously from a young age in the imperial capital. Diane, unaware of this, looked at Nerys with admiration.

But Nerys had no interest in Madam Alix’s compliments. Her speech had been perfected through years of grueling effort to meet the exacting standards of the Duchess of Elandria. To her, it was only natural to be flawless.

“I’m Nerys Truydd, and this is Diane MacKinnon. Could you direct us to our dormitories?”

Although Nerys already knew where she would be staying, she asked out of formality.

As expected, Madam Alix listed two locations: an old communal dormitory on the outskirts of the campus and a more luxurious dormitory overlooking the lake.

From here, their paths diverged. Diane reluctantly departed with her maid to find her assigned dormitory, while Nerys, indifferent, set off for her own.

The sunlight bathed Carten in the midst of a blooming summer, with green branches overflowing along the brick walls.

The road was familiar to Nerys—too familiar. She took a shortcut, avoiding other students entirely as she walked down a quiet alley.

Once the semester began, this path would be overrun by children, and she would undoubtedly be harassed. For now, it was peaceful.

But this time, Nerys vowed, those who tormented her would pay dearly for their actions.