Morning.
Quiet footsteps echoed through the Knight Department's hallway, the one they called Oath Hall.
The stone floor carried every sound, so even Amelia Grace's careful pace felt louder than it should have.
She kept her books close to her chest, brows drawn tight, a sigh slipping past her lips.
"Haah… I knew I should've spoken my mind…"
But now it was too late. Way too late.
Who would've thought that staying quiet for one meeting—one single meeting with her colleagues—would snowball into this?
She winced at the memory, the clinking of glasses, the heat of the wine on her tongue.
Who knew just a few sips of booze would be enough to make her nod along, agree to everything, even the things she never would've touched sober.
Not that teaching was something she hated.
No.
Teaching had once been her life—before she became the principal's personal secretary, she'd been a professor in the academy for two full years.
Walking into a classroom wasn't foreign to her.
