What a drag. I turned around to address the second daughter of Duke Averron. My classmate and someone who hates my guts for reasons unknown to me. She's standing near me, her right hand on her hips.
So I fake a smile, wave my hand, and say, "Oh, hello, Lady Rose."
"Wipe that disgusting smile off your face, brawny hands!" Anya, one of her loyal entourage snarls at me. Raising an eyebrow, she says with snobbery, "Your hands are unbecoming of a lady mage."
Urgh. My eyebrow suddenly twitches with annoyance.
"No wonder, you failed to create a wand," Skye, the second member of Rose's clique, says with a sneer. She waves her elegant hand for effect. "How many Sagewood have you wasted in class? At this rate we'll have deforestation Hahaha!"
Duh. I want to respond with smart repartee but I'm on a self-restraint regimen for the rest of the semester. I'm told that silence and smiling like a fool can get you out of a sticky situation, especially involving the snobby elites of the Academy. Submissive smile it is.
"I feel so sorry for the tree spirits," Ciara says, pouting like a child. "So what will happen if you fail to make a wand by Friday?"
I f*cking have no idea either. But I just keep smiling.
"Umm… You—" another member of Rose's entourage chimes in softly. She's fidgeting and avoids making eye contact with me. She stammers as she speaks, "You will r-retake the wa-wand making co-course!"
Rose, Anya, Skye, and Ciara turn in the direction of the stammering girl. They were glaring at her. By the looks of it, their fifth member just doesn't belong to this circle.
Who is she? It's my first time seeing her. Is she a new transfer? She's gentle as a lamb. How the hell did she become part of Rose's clique? To be honest, this girl is the rose in the group. The rest are just thorns.
Rose is mad at her, eyes glaring, biting her lips, and nostrils flaring, Talk about unbecoming of a lady. I let out a muffled pfft. They must have heard it because they turned to me.
Dear, Mother Eramessa!
"You, country bumpkin—" Rose says with an annoyed voice, pointing her finger at me, "Professor Arria is looking for you. Hah! That old crone acted like I was her messenger! She mentioned something about scripts… Whatever that is—"
Anya chimes in, "Oh, is that a part-time job? The professor was looking for an assistant but due to rumors about her being senile, students dared not to apply!"
Suddenly, Rose's smug face brightens up, as if she had a eureka moment. She is smirking at me, "You know your scholarship prohibits any part-time jobs, right?"
Rose is right. My scholarship stipulates that I'm not to do any jobs since all of my needs are provided for by the Academy. All I have to do is study and graduate with flying colors. However, there are things that I want to buy with my own money. And on some occasions, I'd send presents back home. My part-time job copying scripts from arcane books is supposed to be a secret. My hands aren't graceful by my handwriting is elegant.
Since I didn't want to escalate the situation, I'm downplaying it, "Oh, it's nothing really!" I say smiling again like an utter fool, "You know Professor Arria… There was help needed. She gave me a reward for it. You know she has a big heart—" and probably absent-mindedness at 80 years old, casually mentions my part-time job to anyone who invites her for some tea. I lie through my teeth, "I can't say no to her!"
Rose is smiling like a predator; and I am a scared, trembling mouse. She's taller than me and a skilled magic wielder. I feel little vertically and belittled emotionally.
Self-restraint. Just smile. I keep smiling these days in dealing with my tormentors. Who would have thought smiling is stressful? It's strenuous to my facial muscles. But well, I'm faking it so that must have caused it.
She points her finger at my forehead, and says, "The cat is out of the bag, nowand! I'm going to report you to the Academy's Scholarship Board."
I meet her gaze with defiance. I just want to live a peaceful life until I graduate. But she's really pushing it. Maybe I should smack her head again with my brawny hands. But that would mean an infraction on my clean record for this semester.
Her onslaught of insults continues and my wide beaming smile is slowly turning into a bitchy frown that I'm known for—before I got my infamous punishment, that is.
Out of the blue, the girls start squealing their hearts out. Judging from their giggling and blushing cheeks, the appearance of the Academy's beloved Four Idols—the four most handsome seniors known for their bravery, academic excellence, and noble blood—is in sight.
Today is my lucky day. They are the distraction I need to get away from these mean girls.
Suddenly, Rose stops talking, and her face blushes. She composes herself. It's funny how she looks demure now.
Urgh! The villainess' heart just melted.
I realize that my ordeal doesn't end here because I can sense a smoldering aura directed at me from one of the Four Idols. And sure enough, a husky yet angry, accusatory voice cuts through the squealing fangirls.
"Renaia Tenma!" he screams as he approaches me. Forget about his handsome face and hero stature. He's having an all-out rage. Upon reaching me, he fans a piece of paper in my face, and growls at me, "You gave me an unreliable map of that dungeon! And you know what that costs me?"
Feigning innocence and thinking this is just one of his regular outbursts, I shake my head to my number one tormentor at the Academy.
But everyone isn't prepared for what he does next.
Yulian Willenross, the number one vanguard of the Academy and the black sheep nephew of Marquess Wolfall, is an arm away from me when he surprisingly removes his school issue greatcoat. His action catches me off guard! His naked upper body is exposed in full view to the entire crowd.
The girls utter a collective gasp, giggling, and squealing. Then they chorus with worried exclamation, whispering about his bandaged left arm.
I literally facepalm at his stupidity. At this rate, he and I will see each other again in the detention hall. Shutting my eyes, I sigh. Dear, Mother Eramessa, why am I so unlucky in life?
He stoops to the level of my height. He gets close enough for our heads to bump slightly, miscalculating the distance. He says proudly, "So you finally realized what you did to me?"
"Eh?"
He smells so bad that I cover my nose instinctively.
He must be embarrassed because he suddenly pulls away from me, mumbling angrily "You dared—"
Where on hell did he crawl from?
He straightens up and shoots me a death glare. He combs his messy and dirtied silver hair with his fingers. He's annoyed when his fingers are stuck in tangled strands. His hand trembles when he sees a clump of hair in his palm. He turns horribly pale—like he lost 10 years of his life!
His fangirls are shocked. They shoot me a murderous look. I feel that any second now, they will attack me.
Damn. Annoying. Fangirls!
Meanwhile, Rose is paralyzed with shock and her entourage is attending to her. Maybe she can't accept that her crush has a bald spot!
I stare at Yulian who's still fuming with anger. I'm trying to make sense of all of this, and it finally dawns on me. Unreliable map? His injured arm. Messy hair. Scruffy appearance. He must have raided the dungeon and luckily made it out alive.
I brace the stench and reach out to his silver hair. He is shocked at what I'm doing. I comb his hair with my fingers, checking the muck that clings to it. I have to make sure that my suspicion is right.
He stands there like a statue. His posture is hunched forward to match my height. His face is a few inches above mine. Our gazes meet.
My eyes widen in horror and small hiccups escape from my throat, as his lips twitches into a maniacal smile, slowly revealing his clenched teeth. Oh, my mother! The map wasn't unreliable. I gave him the wrong map. The worst part? Upon recalling the stench emanating from him and the distinctive muck clinging to his hair, f*ck my life, I gave him the map of Area 4220 of Dungeon Ukkenbryck, a survival-type dungeon level!