Chapter 59

The news that the second child of the Elandria family had enrolled sent ripples through the academy.

There was already Nellusion Elandria, the heir of that legendary house, who lived up to the family name.

He was modest, cautious, and intelligent. A boy whose character matched perfectly with the title of one of the three legendary heroes, “the Honest Elandria.”

If there was one thing to criticize, it was that he was too rational.

Children of high nobility typically lived in ways that clearly set them apart from those of lesser houses, but Nellusion’s lifestyle, though dignified, was never extravagant.

So, he hadn’t exactly been a source of amusement for others.

That’s why when people heard that the Duke and Duchess of Elandria’s beloved daughter had arrived in a procession of luxurious carriages, excitement swept through the school.

Students chattered with glee over how even the nanny who always accompanied Valentin Elandria wore extravagantly expensive clothes.

Nerys paid no mind to such talk.

There was no one in this school who knew more about Valentin’s lavish lifestyle than Nerys—except perhaps Nellusion.

And when it came to how much Valentin allowed her nanny, Delma, to indulge, Nerys probably knew even more than Nellusion.

Around the time Nerys had been adopted into the Elandria family, a single outfit Valentin wore cost more than a dozen dresses owned by other noble daughters.

The Duchess always complained about her daughter’s extravagance, and Nerys believed her foster mother was truly distressed by it.

So when she was given hand-me-downs that Valentin no longer wore, she accepted them quietly. Occasionally, those hand-me-downs even included pieces that Delma had stopped wearing.

Either way, they were far more expensive than anything ever made for Nerys, except the “wrappings” tailored for presenting her at the imperial court.

It was ironic that Valentin, just before killing her sister with her own hands, had worn the crown princess’s robes that her sister used to wear.

During the few days following her regression as she rode the carriage toward the academy, Nerys had felt her heart burn with betrayal and hatred for Valentin.

Had Valentin appeared before her then, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from slapping her.

But now, a year after returning, Nerys was prepared to act with reason.

‘Revenge doesn’t always require a slap to the face.’

The indifferent look on the small girl sitting in the senior classroom made her seem like a child imitating an adult, which others found rather cute.

Senior students, much taller and broader than the delicate, blonde-haired, violet-eyed girl, stole glances at her as if they weren’t doing it on purpose.

The Elandria family’s famous figures weren’t limited to just the siblings Nellusion and Valentin.

Nerys Truydd, a distant relative of the Elandria family but better known for her genius mind and uncanny maturity, had now become a second-year student, joining them in the same classroom.

The upperclassmen from this time last year hadn’t known who Nerys was. They had thought she was just a lucky child born a distant relative of the Elandrias who had gotten into the school beyond her means.

But now, there wasn’t a single student who didn’t know the name Nerys Truydd.

Even those unaware that Nerys had taken all her classes, aside from the first-year core subjects, alongside upperclassmen, had at least once heard during the break, “The Duke of Elandria’s son and the Count of MacKinnon’s daughter both adore her. Be good to her for your own future.”

So a few of the seniors were willing to approach Nerys and strike up a conversation.

However, they didn’t want their peers to see them sucking up to a younger student, and more importantly, Nerys had an elusive air that pushed people away, making it hard to casually start a conversation.

If Nerys had been able to read their minds, she would’ve smirked and thought, ‘Of course.’

Even as a crown princess in name only, she had sat in that position long enough to develop a presence that made it hard for others—especially mere teenagers—to approach casually.

The dense, eerie silence surrounding Nerys was broken moments later by someone’s arrival.

Click. The classroom door opened, and the teacher for “International Resources and Trade,” Nerys’s first class as a second-year, entered.

Like many teachers of upperclass subjects, he had worked at the forefront of his field and had been brought in to teach at the academy upon request from the student council.

His stern, professional gaze swept across the students once. His eyes paused briefly on Nerys.

“…I’ve read Sir Voltaire’s recommendation letter. According to him, you’re quite the capable student?”

Among upperclassmen—especially those in the political department—Sir Henri Voltaire was known for his exacting standards.

“Sir Voltaire must have exaggerated. I’ll do my best not to disrupt the seniors.”

Unfazed by the attention, Nerys answered calmly and politely.

At the end of last term, when she applied for this course, she had received Sir Voltaire’s recommendation. Without it, she wouldn’t have been able to enroll.

“My class can’t be followed through effort alone. If I decide you can’t keep up, I’ll immediately demote you to a lower level. Take note of that.”

Advanced classes were so challenging that even confident students who joined them often ended up raising the white flag mid-term.

Unlike students like Megara, who had forced their way into classes far above their level and clearly didn’t belong, those who joined step by step with recommendations and then reassessed their abilities to move down a level weren’t looked down upon.

But unlike the other political science upperclassmen here, this small second-year had skipped the step-by-step curriculum and jumped straight into the advanced track.

As the course title suggested, this class was bound to be filled with all sorts of terminology and case studies. Could she really keep up without having taken fifth- or sixth-year classes like ‘Introduction to International Law’ or ‘Foundations of Economics’?

The looks from other students were openly doubtful. Nerys smiled softly.

“Yes, Professor.”

As soon as the first class ended, the students poured out of the classroom like arrows loosed from a bowstring.

Their hushed conversations centered on the teacher, who had thrown difficult topics at them from the start and even assigned a mountain of homework—his personality was the hot topic.

Unlike this lecture at the Kartak Institute, Nerys’s next class was over at the Aine Institute, but thankfully, she had a bit of time before it began.

Nerys waited until the classroom emptied, careful not to be jostled by the larger upperclassmen.

Just as she was about to step into the hallway—

That girl. Right. Elandria…

Amidst the hallway’s noisy chatter, a few distinct words reached Nerys’s ears. Then came a quietly murmured name.

Valentin.

Nerys froze. Forcing herself to move, she slipped quickly out of the classroom and scanned the commotion in the corridor.

The normally bustling hallway was oddly stalled, its flow disrupted.

The other students were all taller than Nerys, so she couldn’t see clearly, but it was obvious everyone was staring in the same direction.

“Hey, you.”

Caught uncomfortably in the crowd of upperclassmen, Nerys was spotted by Arthur Pendland, who gestured to those around him.

“There’s a second-year here. Watch it.”

Arthur, who had taken Verlaine Language 3 with Nerys the previous year, was now in his final year.

This area of the academy happened to be where many small lecture halls for upper-year classes were located, so Arthur’s friends were with him. They made room for Nerys to stand comfortably.

“Thank you.”

Arthur’s friends looked down at her as if she were cute, but Nerys had no attention to spare for them.

Now, standing among young men who could be called full-fledged adults, she finally had a clear view of her target.

A lovely girl with silver hair walked confidently down the corridor.

With round, clear sky-blue eyes, a slender face shaped like an egg, a dainty, elegant nose, and small cherry-red lips.

Her silver hair flowed like satin, held back by a wide, sky-blue headband adorned with pearls. Her dress, with its puffed sleeves and layered frills along the skirt, was the same blue as the headband.

Academy students typically wore more practical clothes, suitable for a full day of classes.

This was especially true for Kartak Institute students, many of whom specialized in swordsmanship or magic and needed mobility. The older the student, the simpler and more functional their outfit tended to be.

Amid such practicality, Valentin stood out. Her youthful, porcelain-doll-like face made her seem even more out of place.

Yet Valentin’s expression showed she didn’t care at all. As if it had never occurred to her that there could be any place where she wasn’t welcome.

‘No, she probably never has been unwelcome.’

Nerys corrected herself. Where in the world would Valentin Elandria not be welcomed? Raised under the Duke’s authority and the Duchess’s affection, Valentin had grown up doing whatever she pleased.

The very first rule Nerys had learned after being adopted into the ducal family was that one must never go against Valentin.

The new first-years who had entered the academy with Valentin would soon learn that same rule—especially from the nanny following obediently behind her right now.

Valentin’s face, brimming with confidence, lit up like an angel’s as she found the person she was looking for. Her beautiful smile drew involuntary affection from those around her.

“Brother!”

“Valen?”

Nellusion, who had just finished a class and was chatting with Abelus nearby, spotted his sister. He smiled gently as Valentin quickly walked over to him.

“What brings you here? Didn’t you have class?”

“I did! I just came to see where you were having yours. Lady Valentin of House Elandria greets Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

Valentin gave a polite and adorable bow, as if she had only just noticed Abelus. He returned the gesture with generous and gentlemanly grace.

“Meeting you at the academy feels different somehow. That long journey must’ve been tiring for a young lady—how are you feeling, Miss Valentin?”

“Now that Your Highness is so kind as to ask, all the travel fatigue has vanished!”

It was honestly ridiculous. Watching Abelus chuckle at Valentin’s shameless charm made Nerys feel slightly nauseated.

It wasn’t jealousy. Just imagining how those disgusting people must have carried on exactly like this after she died was enough to turn her stomach.

How many people had shed tears of blood just so the imperial family and House Elandria could continue their graceful little social lives without a care?

By coincidence, Nellusion’s gaze happened to land on Nerys’s face. When their eyes met, he smiled brightly. It was a smile just like his sister’s.

“Nerys!”

Abelus and Valentin turned to look at her. With that, it was impossible to just observe from afar anymore. Since she would have to face them eventually, Nerys walked over with a courteous smile.

“Brother Nell.”