◆ That Which is Lost, and That Which is Gained
After concluding my discussion with the instructors, I made my way down the covered walkway that connected the academic halls to the lecture buildings.
Countless thoughts weighed upon my mind.
The future of my studies.
The uncertain course of my life.
The things I could achieve and those forever beyond my reach.
Weaving through my considerations was the unyielding reality that bound them all together.
The sheer pressure of it threatened to settle upon me like a leaden cloak.
The moment I acknowledged its weight, an oppressive gloom threatened to take hold.
Seeking a moment of reprieve, I turned my gaze outward, allowing my attention to drift to the view beyond the walkway’s railing.
Three floors above the ground, this bridge-like corridor overlooked a well-manicured courtyard below, its carefully tended greenery casting deep shadows upon the trimmed stone paths.
There, a group of noblemen and women stood gathered.
The men, dazzling in their elegant attire, carried themselves with the easy grace of those born into power.
Their voices, clear and pleasing, wove through the air like a well-rehearsed performance.
The women, clad in bright and extravagant gowns, laughed delicately, their melodic tones ringing through the quiet space like the chime of silver bells.
At first glance, it was a picturesque scene—the nobility in all their splendor.
Yet, to my eye, something was… off.
The distance—or lack thereof—between them was strange.
Men of high noble birth, standing far too close to women of lesser standing.
I recognized them all.
No, more than that—this very scene was the primary cause of my most pressing concerns.
My brow furrowed, tension lining my face.
Had my gaze possessed magical power, the entire group would have been encased in solid ice by now.
At the heart of this gathering was His Highness, the Second Prince of the Kingdom.
Surrounding him were scions of the highest-ranking noble families, men of prestige and power.
And among them, standing far too boldly, were five women of lower noble birth.
One of them—the one standing closest to the prince—was my fiancée, the daughter of a viscount.
At her side were the daughters of barons and viscounts, young women who, like her, had been admitted to the Academy not by birthright, but by virtue of their exceptional magic reserves.
Their status, however, was unmistakable.
They did not belong among such high company.
Even so, they stood there, their behavior bordering on scandalous.
Their dresses, cut in a style meant for grand evening balls, left far too much bare skin exposed, utterly unbefitting attire for daylight hours at a formal academy.
I sighed, half in exasperation, half in resignation.
How many times had I warned them?
Again and again, I had spoken.
And again and again, my words had been ignored.
Their careless proximity to the elite heirs of the realm—men already betrothed to highborn ladies—would only lead to disaster.
In this kingdom, every noble attending the Academy was bound by a lifelong engagement contract.
Every nobleman among them had a fiancée of matching rank, waiting in their respective estates.
And yet… these women behaved as though such contracts did not exist.
Their actions were a direct affront to the order of noble society.
I could not understand them.
Did they truly not grasp the consequences?
Did they truly believe themselves immune to the retribution their actions would bring?
I simply could not comprehend it.
As I stood there, perplexed, my thoughts swirling, a quiet voice called out.
A soft murmur—but one with clear intent.
I recognized the speaker instantly.
Within noble society, maintaining a vast information network was crucial for survival.
And the owner of this voice…
She was a close confidante of the First Grand Duke’s daughter—who, in turn, was none other than the fiancée of the Second Prince himself.
Her sudden approach meant only one thing—
This was a direct summons.
An explicit confrontation was unlikely.
But an indirect warning?
That, I had fully expected.
Her presence signified one thing above all.
“Mind your place.”
This was the way of the aristocracy.
No words should ever be spoken directly.
To acknowledge one of lower rank—to speak to them as an equal—was an unthinkable breach of etiquette.
And so, if the First Grand Duke’s daughter had anything to say to me…
She would never speak to me directly.
No.
She would merely utter a quiet remark to the air.
And I, in turn, would do the same.
A meaningless exchange of words—or so it would seem.
With careful grace, I lowered my head deeply, stepping aside and dropping to one knee as the noble ladies approached.
They passed, their gowns trailing in their wake.
Then, just as expected—
A voice soft as silk murmured into the air.
“That woman… is she not the fiancée of the knight’s son?”
“I wonder… does she truly understand what she is doing?”
A rhetorical question.
A trap, meant to elicit a response.
I answered in kind, my own voice barely above a whisper.
“…A troublesome matter.”
“I have spoken to her many times, yet she does not listen.”
“To think she would conduct herself in such a manner before the esteemed ladies of the Grand Duke’s house…”
“Our family has already reached its limits.”
“Even if it means incurring the wrath of the Marquis, my father has resolved to demand the annulment of this engagement.”
“It is only a matter of time.”
A faint rustle—the flutter of a fan unfolding.
The Grand Duke’s daughter came to a halt.
She spoke again—this time, not as a mere aside.
“…You understand your position well.”
“The Academy is a place of learning. I expected no less.”
“That woman’s actions have already been reported.”
“The Royal Family has decided to observe and wait.”
“Her behavior has become a topic of the morning council. His Majesty himself has ruled that her actions shall serve as a test.”
“A trial to reveal the true nature of those who associate with her.”
“That includes you.”
“From this moment forward—do nothing.”
“You will not interfere.”
“Your future is your concern now.”
“And if you worry for your house, know that the Marquis has already been informed.”
“A formal message will reach your father soon.”
Her words left no room for argument.
The decision had already been made.
I lowered my head once more.
“…I see.”
“Though it is beyond me to speak against the ruling of the morning council… I can only imagine the frustration this must cause you, my lady.”
A quiet chuckle.
“Oh? You are the first to acknowledge my feelings in this matter.”
“Hold fast to that awareness. It will serve you well.”
A final rustle of fabric.
“Farewell.”
“May your future be free of unwanted burdens.”
And just like that—
The engagement was no more.