Chapter 48

“Tsk.”

Nerys clicked her tongue. She was both surprised and unsettled.

She wasn’t entirely ignorant of how to treat wounds. However, the injuries she had dealt with in the past were the kind caused by bullying—nothing as severe as this, where the scent of blood hung thick in the air.

Cledwyn’s eyes, which had moments ago glared at her with all the strength he had left, were now clouded. Nerys forced herself to make a rational decision.

The only reason she had hidden this unknown, wounded individual from the knights was simple—she had no desire to do anything that would benefit Nellusion or Abelus. If someone was important enough for them to send their closest subordinates to retrieve, then that person was certainly someone who should disappear.

There was no reason for her to risk unknown dangers to save this injured boy. If he had been a corpse, she would have simply left him there.

But he was alive.

And he was Cledwyn Maindulante—the only person in this academy, aside from Diane, who might one day be of use to her.

It didn’t take long to decide.

Rustle.

Nerys carefully crawled out of the thicket, checking her surroundings. Once she confirmed that no one was nearby, she moved quickly.

Under the moonlight, she plucked a few leaves from a nearby bush before returning to where Cledwyn lay.

“Try chewing this. Can you do that? If not, I’ll just leave you here.”

As she observed him more closely, she noticed the dampness of the ground around him. He had lost a significant amount of blood.

Cledwyn stared at the leaves she held to his lips for a long moment. His gaze flickered between the plant and Nerys several times.

She knew he might refuse out of suspicion. After all, there was no trust between them.

But then, Cledwyn locked eyes with her and slowly parted his lips.

Nerys placed the leaves into his mouth.

It wasn’t intentional, but her fingertips briefly brushed against the inside of his mouth—dry and burning hot.

Even as he struggled to chew the bitter herbs, Cledwyn’s sharp eyes never left her face.

Nerys felt her heart pounding.

The fact that he still had enough strength to glare at her was a good sign. But would that be enough? Even if the herbs worked…

“Don’t swallow it.”

A flicker of confusion crossed Cledwyn’s eyes, as if he were asking Why not?

It was impressive how much emotion he could convey with just his gaze.

Nerys responded matter-of-factly.

“It’s not harmful, but it tastes awful.”

A faint hint of amusement appeared in his eyes before vanishing.

Time passed in silence.

Then, Cledwyn attempted to sit up, shifting his shoulders.

Relieved, Nerys moved to support his body against her shoulder. She grumbled as she struggled to lift him.

“That stuff only gives a temporary boost—it’s not some miracle cure. We need to wrap your wounds first before moving.”

—

Megara was in a foul mood.

Today was the day of the social etiquette rehearsal.

She had planned everything carefully—since they were using an unfamiliar classroom, no one would suspect a first-year if a small ‘accident’ happened.

If that wretched Truydd girl had her clothes ruined in front of everyone, even she wouldn’t be able to maintain her usual noble facade.

But Nerys hadn’t shown up.

The blade wedged under the table, the ink bottle prepared for a perfectly timed spill—it was all useless.

Not that Megara had personally handled such petty matters. That was for others to take care of.

All throughout the rehearsal, the students in on the plan kept glancing at the entrance, expecting Nerys to walk in late.

Diane MacKinnon, meanwhile, was looking increasingly smug.

It was all so infuriating that Megara nearly dropped her refined mask and scowled outright.

Sir Sheridan’s rehearsal had felt underwhelming to everyone. Without the ever-perfect Nerys, Megara had received all the praise today.

But even that didn’t satisfy her.

She wanted something more—something undeniable.

Being defaulted into the best position simply because some lowborn knight’s daughter wasn’t present felt insulting.

The walk back to the dormitories was quiet.

Aidalia, walking beside her, didn’t know what to say. The group of high-born students heading to their elite dormitory section was lost in their own thoughts.

Then, as they passed a library where upperclassmen often gathered for study sessions, a voice called out to Megara.

“Meggie! Were you studying?”

Expressionless, Megara turned her head toward the speaker.

Mahradi Ennyn stood there, looking both nervous and hopeful.

He was holding a stack of books—apparently returning from a study session.

Megara had not forgotten the humiliation of that Verlaine Language class.

Not only had he given her incorrect translations, but now he had the audacity to address her so casually, as if it were only natural?

Still, outright ignoring him in front of everyone wasn’t an option.

So she decided to respond.

“Yes. And you?”

Mahradi, who had been ignored by Megara countless times before, was overjoyed.

He assumed that this meant she had finally forgiven him.

His excitement made him ramble, speaking quickly in hopes that something he said would capture her interest.

“Ah, well, you know—I’m an upperclassman, so I have a lot to study. I was with Joseph Caron today, but he had to leave early. So I left as well, and then I saw you here…”

If she let him keep talking, he’d probably start spouting nonsense about destiny next.

Megara tuned him out, her eyes glazing over in boredom.

Meanwhile, Aidalia stiffened.

Joseph Caron?

That was Nellusion’s friend. His right-hand man.

“If Joseph had to leave suddenly… does that mean something happened to Nellusion?”

Aidalia sent Megara an urgent look, silently urging her to ask for more details.

Megara found it annoying, but she still turned to Mahradi and asked,

“So why did that senior leave early? He agreed to study with you, didn’t he?”

Mahradi, who hadn’t thought much about Joseph leaving before, suddenly felt a surge of irritation. Megara was right—how could Joseph just leave in the middle of a session like that?

“Right? It was too much, wasn’t it? It totally ruined my concentration. But I guess something really did come up. At first, he said Nellusion Elandria called for him and that he’d be right back. But when he came back, he just grabbed his books and left for good.”

Megara didn’t particularly care about this information, but Aidalia absorbed every word with fervent attention.

Encouraged by her interest, Mahradi grew even more enthusiastic and started rambling about things no one had asked.

“Apparently, he ran into that Truydd girl at the Remnant Hall. He even asked me if anything seemed off about her in class. Is she still acting all high and mighty? I heard she was supposed to be at that social etiquette rehearsal today…”

That last part was a slip of the tongue.

Mahradi realized his mistake immediately, his face twisting in regret as he clamped his mouth shut.

But it was too late. The others had already glanced at Megara with sympathy.

How long had this upperclassman been loitering here, waiting just for the chance to talk to her?

Even Aidalia grimaced in disgust and turned to check on Megara.

But to her surprise, Megara looked far more pleased than before. She even pressed for details.

“Really? He ran into her at Remnant Hall? When?”

“I don’t know exactly. But he packed up and left around eight, so it must’ve been sometime before that.”

Seeing that Megara wasn’t angry, Mahradi foolishly relaxed, grinning in relief.

A few polite but dismissive words later, Megara sent him on his way.

Then, after a brief pause, she turned to Aidalia.

“Dalley, do you know which room Nerys stays in? I need to know right now.”

—

“Where am I?”

Groaning, Cledwyn opened his eyes.

A curt voice answered him.

“My room.”

Cledwyn recognized the boy.

Though he wasn’t as famous as Cledwyn, the pink-haired boy before him was still well-known.

Ren Fayel. Younger brother of the former Pope and a student in the theology department.

They knew each other by name, but they had never spoken before.

As Cledwyn’s awareness returned, so did the deep, throbbing pain. His vision cleared, and another figure came into focus.

A twelve-year-old girl approached, carrying several towels—Nerys Truydd.

Cledwyn turned his body slightly, only to realize that Ren had been holding blood-soaked towels.

Nerys’ clothes were also stained with blood.

She walked up to Ren, handing him fresh towels and taking the soiled ones from him.

“It’s all cleaned up now. You don’t have to do more.”

Ren’s voice was surprisingly gentle when he replied to her. It was a stark contrast to the irritated look he had been giving Cledwyn just moments ago.

Cledwyn had heard rumors that Ren, despite his reckless nature, was strangely docile around Nerys. But seeing it in person…

That’s not just docile. That’s downright eager.

Not like the soft breeze of spring.

More like the way a puppy wags its tail.

A particularly fast wag.

It was ridiculous, really. The older one was supposed to be the puppy in this dynamic?

And yet, it suited them.

Because no matter how young she was, Nerys Truydd was a master. The kind who could handle any beast, no matter how wild.

Unaware of Cledwyn’s thoughts, Nerys spoke plainly.

“Alright? Then leave us alone for a moment. We need to talk.”

“Got it. I’ll be right outside. If this guy does anything you don’t like, just scream.”

Despite being kicked out of his own bedroom, Ren didn’t argue.

Instead, he shot Cledwyn a threatening glare before leaving.

Cledwyn found the whole thing amusing.

He looked at Ren’s retreating figure with a sour expression.

Does he think he’s some kind of guard dog?

How absurd. He—Cledwyn Maindulante—was Nerys’ employer.

Yet Ren had the nerve to act like an overprotective pet?

Nerys frowned at his expression.

“What’s your problem? That person saved your life. If not for Ren’s divine power, you’d be dead. How are your wounds?”

She was right.

The agonizing pain and disorientation from before were gone.

His wounds weren’t completely healed, but the worst of it had passed.

Cledwyn narrowed his eyes, mirroring her annoyed expression.

“Why am I here?”

“You really don’t remember?”

Nerys dragged a chair over and sat down, looking down at him.

Cledwyn stared up at her, trying to piece together his memories.

Then, he muttered in complaint.

“…That herb tasted awful.”

“I told you not to swallow it. But if you hadn’t chewed it, you wouldn’t have made it here at all.”

He almost died.

And here he was, whining about the taste.

Nerys responded with a voice that was far too cold for someone who had just saved a life.

Cledwyn suddenly realized—this wasn’t an exaggeration.

She really could tame any beast.

People feared him. Whether that fear turned into respect or contempt depended on the person.

But no one treated him the way she did.

This tiny girl gave him orders without hesitation.

And the strangest part?

He didn’t feel the urge to resist.

He simply followed her commands.

Until now, he had assumed it was because he found her amusing.

That she was just another one of the many twisted personalities he collected under his wing.

A simple business transaction—nothing more.

But… that wasn’t it.

For the first time, he was at a loss for words.

A strange, unexplainable force surrounded her.

Cledwyn wanted to challenge it, to defy her just for the sake of defying.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something snide.

But in the end, he said nothing.

Instead, he quietly looked around the unfamiliar bedroom.