The admissions office at RAPS loomed around Q, vast and cold, with its impossibly high ceilings and walls lined with shelves that seemed to stretch into infinity.
The books on those shelves weren't just books—they were relics, their spines gilded and worn, filled with the names of Princesses who had graced these halls and gone on to shape kingdoms. A massive desk dominated the center of the room, its dark wood polished to an unnatural shine. Behind it, a chair carved with intricate floral patterns stood more like a throne than a place for work.
Q perched on a smaller chair near the edge of the room, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
Her fingers toyed with the edges of her apron, the frayed threads scratching against her skin. Across the room, Maddy stood with her head bowed, her posture rigid and perfect, despite the disheveled state of her dress and stockinged feet. Even now, with her hem torn and her hair spilling loose from its once-pristine pins, Maddy still looked like she belonged here.
Professor Ligarius stood behind the desk, the towering man a strange combination of sharp edges and fluid movements. His wide-brimmed hat was gone, revealing neatly combed silver hair that caught the light. In his hands was a long parchment scroll, its edges curling slightly as though it had existed far longer than it should have. He unrolled it with deliberate care, his gray eyes scanning its contents with exaggerated patience.
"Madeline Carlton," he began, his voice slicing through the air with unnerving precision. "Let us review the infractions, shall we?"
Maddy's shoulders tensed, but she nodded, her voice steady. "Yes, Professor Ligarius."
"First," he said, glancing at her with a raised brow, "Running in public while lifting your skirt above an appropriate height."
Q shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her cheeks burning at the memory of Maddy sprinting barefoot through the cobblestones.
"Second," Ligarius continued, "Removing your shoes in an unseemly manner and running barefoot. Do you realize how improper that was?"
"Yes, Professor." Maddy murmured, her tone obedient but soft.
"And third," Ligarius said, his voice lowering slightly, "A complete lack of poise, decorum, and grace, all of which are fundamental to your training as a Princess candidate."
"I understand." Maddy replied. There was no tremor in her voice, but Q saw the way her hands tightened around the fabric of her skirt, her knuckles whitening.
Q couldn't sit still any longer. Her chest tightened with frustration as her fingers dug into the sides of her chair.
"She was just trying to help me!" she blurted, her voice louder than she'd intended.
Ligarius's gaze snapped to her, sharp and unyielding. It felt like standing too close to a storm, his gray eyes narrowing with quiet authority.
"Maddy didn't do anything wrong," Q pressed on, though her voice wavered. "She was just—"
"Enough." Ligarius said, his tone calm yet firm enough to silence her. He closed the scroll with a deliberate snap and set it down, his attention shifting fully to Q.
"And you," he said, his words measured and heavy, "Let us now discuss your infractions, Miss Q."
Q blinked, her mouth opening to protest, but no sound came out. She suddenly felt very small.
"First," Ligarius began, folding his hands behind his back and stepping toward her, "You entered a place where you had neither permission nor invitation. This is a school for Princess candidates, not a barn for wandering vagabonds."
Heat rose to Q's cheeks, embarrassment prickling her skin.
"Second," he continued, his boots clicking softly against the polished floor, "You climbed a locked gate, fainted halfway, and entrusted your safety to complete strangers. That is not courage, Miss Q. That is recklessness bordering on folly."
"I—" Q tried, but Ligarius silenced her with a slight raise of his hand.
"This world," he said, his tone softening just enough to catch her off guard, "Is not as kind as you seem to believe. You should consider yourself fortunate that it was I who found you and not someone less inclined toward compassion."
Q swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to her lap. The edges of her apron felt rougher now, her fingers twisting nervously against the fabric.
Maddy shifted beside the desk, her voice breaking the tension. "Professor Ligarius, if I may… none of this would have happened if I hadn't left my friend behind."
Ligarius turned to her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the room seemed to still, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Finally, he spoke. "Perhaps this incident was not entirely without merit. Both of you have learned something today, I hope?"
Q glanced at Maddy, their gazes meeting for the briefest moment. Maddy's face was pale, her eyes unreadable, but there was a flicker of something there—guilt, perhaps, or regret.
Ligarius continued, his voice steady but distant, as though addressing more than just the two of them. "There will come a time when you will have to part ways. It is inevitable. That is the nature of life—of growing."
Q's heart clenched, the words cutting deeper than she'd expected. She glanced at Maddy again, who shifted uncomfortably, her gaze falling to the floor.
"But why?" Q asked, her voice breaking. "Why would we have to leave each other?"
Ligarius regarded her for a long moment, his gray eyes softening.
"Because," he said quietly, "There are lessons you cannot learn together. Trials you must face alone. Growth often comes from the spaces in between, from the moments when we must rely on no one but ourselves."
The room fell silent again, the weight of his words settling over them like a heavy fog. Q's throat tightened, and she felt a strange mix of anger and sadness bubbling inside her. She didn't want to be apart from Maddy. Not again. Not after everything.
"How will we know?" Q whispered. "When it's time?"
Ligarius's expression shifted, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"You'll know," he said simply. "When the time comes, you will know."
The finality of his words hung in the air, but before Q could respond, Ligarius straightened, his demeanor shifting once more. His sharp gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her sit up straighter despite herself.
"Miss Q," he said, his voice steady and deliberate, "I have an offer for you."
Q blinked, startled. "An offer?"
Beside her, Maddy turned sharply, her expression a mixture of surprise and confusion.
"You may not be a Princess," Ligarius said, his faint smile returning, "But every Princess needs a Lady-in-Waiting. And I believe you might be rather well-suited to the role."