Chapter 47

Someone called out to Nerys as she was lost in thought.

“Hey, you. First-year over there.”

The voice was sharp yet still carried traces of youthful innocence, belonging to a girl in her adolescence.

There was no mistaking that voice. Nerys turned towards the source.

Standing like a painting was Natasha Grünehals, her ginger hair elegantly pinned up.

Nerys gazed at her with an impassive look for a moment before smiling lightly.

“Yes, senior?”

“Why are you here so late? First-years have a curfew. Kids should be in bed early.”

Student council members regularly patrolled the school, catching students who lingered too long in the buildings after hours. Especially for younger students, roaming after curfew was only allowed if they had prior permission.

Nerys answered in an innocent voice.

“Wasn’t my presence reported to the student council? Sir Sheridan was supposed to rehearse for the social etiquette test with the students today.”

“Ah.”

Since it was an unscheduled gathering outside of regular class hours, Sir Sheridan had naturally reported the rehearsal to the student council. Hearing Nerys’ words, Natasha recalled the notice.

“But the classroom he reported wasn’t in this building. It was in the one next door.”

“Really? I thought it was here.”

The designated classroom for the rehearsal wasn’t the usual social etiquette classroom but one used mainly by upperclassmen. A first-year could easily mistake the location.

Raising an eyebrow, Natasha spoke in a curt tone.

“Now that you know, hurry along. Your permitted movement is limited to the building your teacher reported and your dormitory. You wouldn’t want to be penalized, would you?”

“Not at all. Thank you for letting me know, senior. If it weren’t for you, I would have wandered around aimlessly in the wrong place.”

Natasha was well aware that she wasn’t a particularly kind person, nor did she have any desire to be. But hearing such praise wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Her gaze softened slightly as she looked down at the younger girl before her.

Delicate features and renowned Ja’an ancestry. If she grew up as she was, this child would become quite the beauty.

Then again, this year’s new students were full of beauties. Young Megara Lykeandros was already a rising star in the imperial social scene. And what about the ethereal Aidalia Kendall?

Natasha prided herself on her own beauty, but there was no guarantee that her boyfriend, Abelus, would keep his eyes from wandering in ten years.

Her father, Duke Grünehals, had repeatedly discarded his lawful wife under various pretexts, replacing her with younger beauties time and time again. Many men in high society did the same.

Having grown up witnessing such things, Natasha never expected loyalty from a man’s love. That was why she made sure to crush anything that might one day rise above her.

As Natasha was lost in thought, a fleeting expression crossed Nerys’ clear eyes—one of pure contempt. But it was so brief that Natasha failed to notice it.

A thought suddenly surfaced in Natasha’s mind, and she spoke it aloud. Though their appearances were different, this girl’s gentle expression bore a strange resemblance to Nellusion. Almost as if they had lived together for a long time.

“You have a cute face. Is it because you’re related to Nellusion? I think you resemble him more than Valentin does.”

At a glance, Valentin and Nellusion seemed quite different. Nellusion was calm and kind, while Valentin was openly arrogant.

But if one looked deeper, the two were eerily similar—something Natasha had yet to realize.

‘Disgusting demons.’

Nerys believed that no one in the Elandria family was exempt from that label. She would have been satisfied if the whole lot of them were thrown into the fires of hell together.

But then, was she any different?

‘I’m the same.’

Lies, schemes, betrayal—Nerys was no exception. One day, she too would be cast into the flames. And when that day came, she intended to enjoy every moment of the pain.

While watching her enemies scream beside her.

But that time hadn’t come yet. There was still much to do.

So, Nerys smiled shyly.

“Thank you for saying that. If I were even a tenth as beautiful as you, I’d have no complaints. The real beauty in our year is Megara—she’s adorable and already very popular. Since she’s of high status, everyone says she’s bound to marry someone remarkable.”

Though Natasha had schemed to have Nerys kidnapped out of jealousy, she had ultimately lost Abelus—not to the new crown princess, but to another, the reigning queen of the social scene, Megara.

Had Natasha not been distracted by the Elandria family’s engagement talks with the imperial family, she would have considered Megara her greatest rival from the start. After all, she was the far more likely threat.

For now, since the first-years were still too young, no one had set their sights on anyone yet. But if Nerys planted enough seeds of doubt, some level of opposition could be stirred.

Natasha blinked at Nerys’ words. Then, with a polite yet distant smile, she erased all thoughts from her face and ended the conversation.

“Aren’t you running late?”

She was right. Nerys had no intention of wasting any more time with Natasha.

Having achieved her goal, Nerys gracefully bowed and turned toward the building’s exit. Behind her, she could hear Natasha also leaving the area.

Finally, she reached the doorway, where the night sky was strewn with stars.

As she stepped outside, something about the garden ahead felt… off. A strange rustling.

A faint, salty scent brushed against her nose.

It was subtle—barely noticeable. But for someone like Nerys, who had spent countless days locked in a prison cell, growing familiar with the scent of her own blood and festering wounds, the recognition was immediate.

The smell of blood.

Clink. Clink. The metallic sound of something clashing nearby reached her ears. Nerys instinctively concealed herself in the building’s shadow to assess the situation.

Moments later, two teenage boys, swords in hand, emerged from the far end of the garden, making their way toward her vicinity.

“Did you find them?”

“No. Weren’t they supposed to be around here?”

Nerys’ eyes gleamed coldly.

She knew exactly who they were.

They were the kind of knight aspirants commonly found in noble houses—raised under the guise of playmates for their future masters while receiving education and training from the main family.

One of them was Abelus’ subordinate, someone Nerys had once owed a favor to when she was the crown princess.

“His Highness’ orders. It’s not my concern. He’s your master, isn’t he, Ralph?”

The voice of the other boy cut into Nerys’ ears like a blade, making her clench her fist.

How could she possibly forget him?

The boy scanning the area alongside Abelus’ knight was Joseph, Nellusion’s personal guard. The very same Joseph who, in her previous life, had followed Valentin into the prison, pinned Nerys to the cold floor, and helped Valentin subdue her.

“So even at this time, you were already working for the imperial family.”

Few understood the closeness between the imperial family and the Elandria house as well as Nerys. But even she hadn’t considered the intricate dynamics of their relationships when she was only twelve years old.

Of course, the cunning Nellusion wouldn’t pass up the chance to lend his ‘playmate’ to Abelus if it meant winning his favor.

But what exactly was the favor?

Genuinely curious now, Nerys remained silent and continued eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I’m not sure. Is this really the only path he could take? This school is riddled with rabbit-hole tunnels and secret passages.”

“Let’s check thoroughly. Stay alert. He’s a cunning one—it might be a trap.”

“Shh. Did you hear that?”

The two boys stopped in their tracks and scanned their surroundings.

Without hesitation, Nerys deliberately made a sound and stepped forward into the moonlight.

The boys, assuming all the buildings were empty, immediately raised their swords in alarm.

Nerys widened her eyes and let out a high-pitched scream.

“Kyaaah!”

“What the—?”

Abelus’ knight, Ralph, scowled. He had been ready to snap at the small girl, but Joseph stopped him.

Joseph lowered his sword slightly and acknowledged her.

“Nerys Truydd?”

“Joseph, senior?”

Nerys called out hesitantly, as if uncertain. Joseph narrowed his eyes but responded kindly.

“That’s right. You know my name?”

In this life, Nerys and Joseph had never officially met. By all logic, it should have been him asking her if she knew who he was. But instead, Nerys only smiled innocently, as if she were delighted to see him here.

And, in truth, she was.

A formal greeting now would make it all the easier to drag him into the abyss later.

So, Nellusion must have given him a heads-up about me already, huh?

“I’ve seen you with Nell before. I’m glad I remembered your name correctly. You’re one of his friends, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

With that, Joseph let his guard down completely and sheathed his sword. After all, what reason did an older boy have to be wary of a twelve-year-old girl suddenly appearing before him?

Meanwhile, Nerys noticed something strange—just beyond Joseph’s back, the thicket remained unnaturally still. It was as if something large and heavy was pressing down on it.

Without betraying a hint of recognition, she naturally shifted her gaze away and continued speaking.

“You seem to be going somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah. And you?”

Joseph had never been as good at deception as Nellusion. The awkwardness and unease on his face made Nerys laugh internally.

Ralph, however, was not as easily swayed as Joseph. To him, a distant relative of the Elandria house meant nothing—especially when he was already promised a bright future at the crown prince’s side.

If something seemed suspicious, it had to be thoroughly investigated. That was how one climbed the ranks.

With a sharp look, he kept his hand on his sword and questioned her.

“What are you doing here? First-years aren’t allowed out past curfew.”

“I came for a class. We have extra lessons to prepare for exams. Since other first-years are also attending, the teacher got special permission.”

Nerys left out plenty of details, but the two boys wouldn’t know that.

They took her words at face value—assuming she meant all the first-years had been permitted to be in this building.

Ralph and Joseph exchanged uneasy glances.

Ralph sighed, finally tucking his sword into its sheath.

“Don’t stay out too late. I nearly drew my sword thinking you were some kind of wild animal.”

A flimsy excuse, even to himself.

But Nerys only nodded sweetly.

“I’m sorry for startling you. Natasha, from the student council, already warned me about staying out too late. I’ll head straight back after class. I’ll also tell the others to go back as soon as we’re done.”

“Right. Do that.”

The boys hesitated, exchanging glances once more.

If they lingered here any longer, they risked drawing unwanted attention.

And this girl—she had already mentioned Natasha Grünehals. Who was to say she wouldn’t casually drop Joseph’s name as well?

As if they had merely been out for a stroll, the two boys left the scene.

Nerys dropped her mask of a chatty, obedient girl.

Once she was sure the distance between them was safe, she cautiously crept into the thicket.

As expected, within the bushes lay a bloodied boy, curled in on himself.

The night was dark, and the spring foliage had grown thick enough to offer some camouflage, but if the two boys had searched with even the slightest bit of effort, they would have found him immediately.

The fact that he had collapsed in such an exposed area meant his injuries were severe—so bad that he couldn’t even crawl further to safety.

Nerys had deliberately stalled with idle conversation, assuming that if this suspicious individual died in the meantime, it wouldn’t be her problem.

However, as she approached, the boy’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

Brilliant gray eyes, sharp as diamonds.

Human eyes weren’t meant to glow, but in the darkness, his gaze burned like that of a nocturnal predator.

“You…”

Nerys Truydd.

But before the name could fully leave his lips, the rest of his words were swallowed down his dry throat.

Cledwyn Maindulante.