"Well, isn't that just a beautiful sight to behold?" Rudy sneered, clearly enjoying himself.
Prince Asta, however, was less amused.
"I'm disappointed, Caelus de Luvelaine. To think you'd be taken in by that wench after refusing my generous offer. Have you already fallen for her charm?"
Caelus let out an exhausted sigh.
"I have no idea what you mean, Your Imperial Highness. We simply bumped into each other and decided to go on a short walk."
"Right," Asta scoffed. "Sure. Just a coincidence. The thing is, it would've been believable had you not left the lecture hall together. A lecture hall that you both share for your last class, might I add. If you wish to fool me, Luvelaine, you'll have to try harder than that."
He knew. Of course, he did. This may be Rhodeia College, where all students are considered equal by the faculty, but these unruly nobles would never bend their knees to the idea of equality. Here, just by existing, you would unknowingly become a pawn in the chess game.
"Aria," the crown prince said, his voice soft yet filled with venom. "Have you sunk so low? You fail to secure any true allies, and now you cling to a fallen noble? What would the council say? What would Father say? Pathetic. And you dare call yourself imperial blood?"
Caelus turned, ready to tell her to ignore him. But when his eyes met hers, the words died in his throat.
Her usually sharp and unreadable gaze was blown wide, unguarded, as if she'd seen something monstrous. Her lips quivered, parted just enough to betray her shaking breath. Even from where he stood, he caught the rapid rise and fall of her chest, each inhale jagged and uneven.
She wasn't angry. She wasn't offended.
She was terrified.
"...Aria?" Caelus whispered.
She didn't answer, which gave him an idea of what this was all about. This wasn't the reaction of a sibling spat. This wasn't like the harmless jabs he'd often exchange with Celine.
No... This was fear etched into someone over years. Aria wasn't just humiliated. She'd been worn down, piece by piece, and the most likely perpetrator of her woes was standing right before them.
"Aria," the prince called out once more. "I know you can hear me. Is this any way to treat your older brother? Whenever you'd fall, I'd pull you back up. Whenever you'd sully the imperial name, I'd keep you in check. Perhaps I was never the best at showing it, but I always did care for you. Can't you see that?"
"Stop... lying," she croaked, her voice trembling even as she tried to bite it back. "You never did, not even once. You are... no brother of mine."
"Oh, come now. Another tantrum? Is it because you have an audience this time? Take a look. A crowd has gathered to witness this spectacle. Do you somehow see this as an opportunity? Or perhaps it is because you've found yourself a knight in shining armor. Either way, you should stop. You're making me look bad while also embarrassing me. You know I don't like it when my image gets tarnished. Why don't we just settle this as siblings? Come, Aria."
From behind, Caelus felt a weak tug at his collar.
"No..." she mumbled. "Just leave me alone..."
"Aria."
The way he said her name, like a blade disguised as silk, was enough to make her choke. It was the same tone that always came before punishment, and the dread it carried now was more than suffocating.
"Do not make this difficult," Asta continued. "You should be grateful you were born into this family. Do you know how many would kill just to stand where you are? And still you aren't satisfied. Dear me... I have been kind for as long as I could, but you keep forcing my hand. You know what that means, don't you?"
And with that, panic had settled into its new home. Memories clawed at her, fragmented, but all too real. Her stomach churned, her chest tightened, and her breath came short and shallow. The only thought left in her head was: What have I done?
Then, a robe swept into view, blocking out the glare of the setting sun. She blinked up and saw him.
Caelus de Luvelaine.
By all rights, he should have turned away. Aria meant little to him. His path demanded focus, not distractions.
And yet, he stood. His body moved before his thoughts. He stepped forward, placing himself between her and Asta, a shield blocking the prince's gaze from reaching her.
"Hah... And the dark horse makes his move," Asta chuckled.
At the same time, somewhere across the courtyard, a pair of students was leaving a coffee shop on Vendor's Street.
"Hmm... Not bad, I think," Kain hummed after taking a sip. "It's kinda bitter, though. Eugh... Very bitter, actually.
Next to him, Rosalina lifted her cup to take a sip, and she had the same exact reaction.
"Bleh... What the hell? Fiona said it was the best coffee she'd ever tasted, but this... this is more like a cheap shop trying to parade as a high-end cafe just to appeal to nobles. As a matter of fact, that's probably exactly what it is."
"I mean, it's not that bad. Just needs a bit of, uh... I don't know. Honey, sugar, maybe some cream. Just something to make it taste a little bit better."
"That alone is enough of a reason that it's bad. Tch... I was really looking forward to this, too. I'm gonna have to get Fiona to reimburse me."
Kain pinched his chin.
"Hmm. This Fiona... Does she happen to be a commoner?"
Rosalina came to a halt in the middle of the path, a faint flicker of realization settling into her wide eyes. Kain couldn't stop himself from letting out a restrained laugh.
"Well, I'll be damned," he scoffed. "The best coffee she's ever had, huh? Pfft~ I can definitely see it now."
"...Sorry, Kain," she mumbled.
"What's this now? Why are you apologizing for something like this? That's not like you at all."
"But because of me, you—"
"Don't worry about it, Rosalina. Like I said, it's not that bad. Yeah, it's bitter, but at least it's not poisonous. If anything, the taste alone will keep us awake more than the coffee itself. Anyway, let's— W-whoa!"
A couple of students rushed past them, heading for a crowd that was gathering toward the center of the courtyard.
"That's something you don't see every day," Kain said.
"What's got them all riled up like that?" Rosalina asked.
"Only one way to find out. You in?"
"Hah... Seriously? I swear, you get distracted by the smallest things."
"What~? It's a big crowd! Who wouldn't wanna take a peek?"
"Yeah, yeah. Let's just make this quick."
As they drew closer, the commotion grew louder. Students were murmuring amongst each other, their words merging into an amalgamation of incoherent noise.
From the back of the crowd, Kain tapped someone on the shoulder.
"W-whoa! Sir Kain Diadalin!" the guy exclaimed, readying himself to bow.
"Save it. What's happening here?"
"Ah, uh... I can't really see over so many shoulders, but based on the word of mouth, there's a fight going down just up ahead."
"A fight? Is that really a reason to be huddling up like a bunch of immature children? In a place where hotheaded nobles gather, there's bound to be a fight here and there."
"It's not just anyone in that fight. It's... U-um... To my understanding, Sir Kain, you're... quite friendly with that infamous fallen noble... right?"
"And? What does he have to do with anything?"
"Well... From what everyone's saying, the fallen noble was trying to stand up for Princess Aria against her brother, Prince Asta."
Kain retreated half a step. He quickly glanced back at Rosalina, who was just as shocked as he was. Suddenly, a blinding light set the evening skies aglow, followed by a thunderous boom.
Even as swordsmen, they both felt it. Residual mana. Somewhere within this crowd, magic had been cast.
Without wasting another second, they bolted through the crowd, pushing their way past heads and shoulders.
At last, they made it to the front, but what they saw next nearly sucked the air out of their lungs.
Prince Asta had his hand up, pointing one finger forward. At the tip of that finger was a yellow rune circle, pulsing with bolts of lightning.
"I warned you, didn't I?" he smirked. "Don't blame me when you were the one who sealed your own fate."
Caelus stood there with his head tilted to the side, and behind him was Aria, whose face was written in horror. His overly thick glasses lay on the grass. One lens was cracked while the other was marked by a dash of red.
Slowly, he twisted his neck back, revealing a small gash on his cheek — as well as a dangerous, almost demonic glare.