Chapter 54

The fact that Aidalia Kendall had stolen the test papers and, when caught, attempted to frame Megara had spread throughout the entire school by midday.

“So, what happened last night? You skipped class without saying anything.”

“I had a headache, so I went back to my room.”

“I see. I thought something serious had happened to you. You scared me.”

Diane sighed heavily, placing a hand on her chest, the only person who would have truly worried about Nerys’ safety last night.

“I heard that Aidalia not only stole the test papers but also tried to pin it on multiple people. I thought the whole ‘second place framing first place out of jealousy’ thing only happened in urban legends! How could she do that?”

Aidalia wasn’t second place, but Nerys didn’t bother correcting Diane. A broad statement sometimes captured the essence of a matter better.

After all, the real second place, Megara, was the mastermind behind this incident.

‘I knew she’d get away with it.’

Even in her past life, Megara hadn’t been free from crises.

No one was. Especially when she had acted as Abelus’s de facto crown princess, Megara had blatantly involved herself in state affairs with his silent approval.

And with great power came great responsibility—or in Megara’s case, the necessity to shift blame.

‘She was always good at passing it onto others.’

Surprisingly, or perhaps not surprisingly at all, whenever something she had meddled in went wrong, Megara skillfully redirected the backlash onto Nerys.

Then, as if it had been the truth all along, Megara, Marquis Lykeandros, and the courtiers who followed the crown prince’s lead would pretend the fault had always belonged to Nerys.

Even now, as mere students, Megara’s performances were as impeccable as ever. A bit of effort on her part was all it took to slip out of trouble.

Especially since Nerys had practically handed her the perfect scapegoat before walking away.

Marquis Kendall, though not as powerful as Marquis Lykeandros, was still a high-ranking noble. A marquisate wasn’t a title given to just anyone.

Under normal circumstances, Megara would never have dared to antagonize Aidalia.

But these were not normal circumstances.

Megara had to make an example of a traitor—someone who dared to defy her authority.

Megara enjoyed maintaining absolute control over those around her, and as long as they were in school, the students’ world began and ended in the classroom.

To Megara, Aidalia was a traitor who had attempted to ruin her kingdom.

And… no other narratives could be allowed to emerge.

‘She’ll crush Aidalia completely.’

Stories the public believed eventually became truth, even altering the memories of those who had once known the real facts.

The student cafeteria, already noisy with the usual mealtime chatter, grew even louder.

Nerys and Diane glanced up to see who had entered.

Megara, looking noticeably gaunt as if she had been ill.

The first-year students instantly gathered around her, wasting no time in deciding where their loyalties lay.

“Meg, are you okay? That must have been terrifying.”

“How could she do that to you? After everything you did for her!”

The omitted “she” was, of course, Aidalia.

Megara shook her head wearily as she moved to buy food.

“Don’t say that. Dalie must have had her reasons.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Seriously. Just curse her out! You deserve to!”

The students around Megara all reacted differently—some deeply moved by her supposed benevolence, others enraged at Aidalia’s betrayal.

It was ridiculous.

Just last night, these same people had likely been showering Aidalia with compliments, telling her how kind she was.

Nerys glanced at Megara’s shameless expression. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment while Megara was picking her meal.

For a split second, Megara hesitated before forcing a smile.

Nerys, however, smiled back—calm, unbothered, and deeply amused.

Megara’s expression darkened, but Nerys simply looked away, as if she hadn’t noticed at all.

A moment later, the cafeteria stirred again—this time with a different kind of tension.

Then, the murmuring was swallowed by an uneasy silence.

Diane whispered to Nerys.

“Aidalia just walked in.”

“She did.”

Nerys didn’t miss the way Heath Angerson kept glancing toward Aidalia.

Even as an adult, Heath had never stopped liking her. After Nerys became the crown princess, there had even been rumors of a marriage proposal between them.

Aidalia, like Megara, looked pale and worn down.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have entered the cafeteria alone. And even if she had, she would have immediately gone to her usual group.

But that group wasn’t even looking at her.

Aidalia, of course, realized that.

She didn’t even glance around the room before heading straight to the cold food section, picking up the first sandwich she saw.

Only when she finally looked up to find a seat did Heath open his mouth, as if about to call her.

But then, his gaze flickered to Megara, and he hesitated.

Megara was smiling as if nothing was wrong.

Even so, Heath shut his mouth, looking conflicted.

Aidalia silently walked to an empty table and sat down alone.

She took a few bites of her sandwich before suddenly coughing, her throat blocked.

“Cough! Gah, cough!”

Due to school regulations, the cafeteria had separate areas for servants and students.

From a distance, Simon, who had been watching Aidalia, hurried over to hand her a glass of water.

After taking a sip and calming her coughing fit, Aidalia found herself under silent scrutiny.

No one asked if she was okay.

Only cold, dagger-like stares bore down on her.

If it had been Alecto, she would have shouted, asking if there was something to gawk at.
If it had been Rhiannon, she would have turned red in the face and glared at each person in turn.

But Aidalia simply handed her barely-eaten sandwich to Simon and weakly stood up, leaving the cafeteria without another word.

Nerys watched her retreating figure for a long time.

Aidalia Kendall was kind—at least, as long as it didn’t cost her anything. That was why she only ever participated in wrongdoing when someone else was leading the charge, acting reluctant all the while.

But when one took such half-hearted steps into the affairs of villains, they often failed to defend themselves when a real villain decided to turn on them.

Nerys’ words to Aidalia—”Thanks to you, everything worked out. I appreciate it.”—had, of course, been meant to make Megara suspicious of her.

To ensure that Megara wouldn’t hesitate to abandon Aidalia in order to clear her own name.

And yet, there had been a sliver of sincerity in those words as well.

If Aidalia hadn’t mobilized Simon last night, or if she hadn’t brought him to the student council room this morning, Nerys would have been in serious trouble.

Did Megara really believe that Aidalia had betrayed her and tipped Nerys off about the stolen test papers?

That was unknown. And it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Megara had enough influence to isolate Aidalia—whether consciously or unconsciously.

Megara, laughing and chatting with her friends, walked to the table they always used and started her meal.

—

After the midterms, the workload surged. It was as if the teachers wanted to ensure the students wouldn’t forget anything they had learned over the summer break.

Diane was already groaning under the weight of the first-year assignments, while Nerys was handling about five times that amount.

And in the midst of all this, the time had come to register for their second-year courses.

That was when the rumor spread. No one knew who started it, but soon, every first-year had heard it.

“Aidalia Kendall transferred to the Theology Department.”

Even Cledwyn, who wasn’t a first-year, brought up the gossip with an utterly composed expression.

The fifth floor of Zakaria Library was silent—the quietest it could possibly be during this time of year.

Thanks to that, Nerys, who had piled up a mountain of books to search through for her assignments, didn’t even react.

“Are you bored?”

That was the sharp remark she finally threw out after flipping through several more pages.

Cledwyn smiled, his handsome face unruffled.

“At the moment.”

“You’re set to inherit a duchy. If you have time to waste, read another line of text.”

They hadn’t planned to meet today.

Nerys had simply chosen this reading room because it was usually empty, making it ideal for studying.

Even so, Cledwyn’s expression remained unchanged at her dismissive reply.

“If you look this way, you won’t be bored.”

“Then stay bored.”

Nerys truly was busy. Her grades had to stand out—she needed to take as many different courses from the other first-years as possible next year.

A first-year student taking upperclassmen courses?

Even if she maintained average grades, the teachers might say, “She’s too young; let’s have her strengthen her fundamentals first.”

And the subjects she had chosen were all ones where the instructors were especially passionate. She was learning a lot, but keeping up required a near-fatal level of effort.

Unlike a certain someone who spent half his time lounging around in library chairs yet never lost his top rank in his courses—Nerys had seen his name posted among the upperclassmen’s scores once.

Cledwyn.

They didn’t share any classes, but he always seemed to be first.

“It’s cold.”

That comment wasn’t even worth responding to.

Nerys realized that her initial impression of Cledwyn was starting to crack. She had thought he only spoke when necessary.

A moment later, Cledwyn rose from his seat—he had been sitting across from her—and walked off somewhere.

Nerys assumed he was just wandering off to waste time again and paid no attention.

But then, as soon as he slipped behind a pillar, she heard hushed whispers.

If the reading room hadn’t been this quiet, she wouldn’t have even noticed.

The voice was so soft that it didn’t even register as noise—like the distant hum of a bee.

That was when Nerys understood why Cledwyn had been coming to the library so often, despite it being out of character for him.

Her secret place had, in fact, also been his secret place.

Except in a much more practical sense.

He was meeting someone in secret.

Today as well, it seemed he had arranged a meeting with a subordinate.

There was probably some kind of concealed communication device near his seat.

The fact that the chairs didn’t quite match the rest of the library’s design suggested that they had originally met somewhere else before switching locations at some point.

A medical library seemed like an odd choice for clandestine meetings.

But on second thought, why not? It was deserted, and there were plenty of places that were hidden from view.

‘Ah, so that’s why.’

That explained why he had drawn his sword on her the first time she sat there.

Nerys chuckled slightly at the absurdity of it.

She had unknowingly been perfectly comfortable in what was clearly an assassin’s hideout.

‘So today…’

Cledwyn had deliberately let her in on his secret.