"Believe it or not, it makes no difference to me." Leon shrugged indifferently, finishing the long-cold black coffee. He had originally intended to offer Flora a few subtle warnings about the potential hardships ahead, but after Sibyl's blatant mockery, that small spark of interest had vanished. Some paths, some obstacles, had to be traversed firsthand; the casual words of others were often just passing breezes.
"But how did he know I favor the 'Starlight Academy of Arts'? I just argued with Father about this, and I haven't even discussed it in detail with Aelia or Sibyl..." The doubt in Flora's heart refused to settle. Yet, with her two close friends present, it wasn't appropriate to press further. She simply felt that this plainly dressed, black-haired youth with unnervingly calm eyes was shrouded in an impenetrable mist, inexplicably tugging at her curiosity.
At that moment, the crisp clatter of hooves on cobblestones, mingled with the unrestrained laughter of young people, drifted in from outside the "Silver Moon Pavilion." Through the stained-glass window, a group of brightly dressed youths could be seen dismounting from several ornately decorated carriages. A tall young man at the front was waving vigorously towards them.
"It's Kevin and the others!" Sibyl's eyes lit up. She nimbly rose from the high-backed chair, waved an arm towards the window, and turned to her two friends with excitement. "Let's go, let's go! My real birthday celebration is just beginning!"
Leon followed the three young women out of the teahouse. The afternoon sun slanted down, slightly dazzling. His gaze swept calmly over the group of young people gathered outside, finally resting on the tall figure who was now affectionately embracing the onrushing Sibyl.
Kevin Fergus.
Sibyl's boyfriend, and also one of the primary sources of the many humiliations and embarrassments Leon had endured during his previous life as a student in Greystone City.
A sliver of memory's floodgate creaked open. In his past life, Leon, the "poor boy from the borderlands," sensitive and timid due to his family's decline, had faced numerous cold shoulders, sneers, and veiled provocations while trying to approach the ever-glorious Aelia Green. Most of these were inextricably linked to the young master now before him. Sibyl loved to compare him unfavorably to Kevin, and Kevin gladly seized every opportunity to flaunt his superiority, pick fights, and create trouble in front of Aelia and other girls, employing endless tricks.
Kevin at this moment was impeccably dressed in a dark green hunting suit, its collar and cuffs embroidered with the intricate Fergus family leaf crest in silver thread. A lavishly decorated ceremonial dagger hung at his waist, and his short golden hair gleamed in the sunlight. His face wore a perfectly confident smile. The young men and women surrounding him were also dressed splendidly, their expressions carrying the innate haughtiness of the well-born, setting them apart from the ordinary people on the street. Leon, in his faded, coarse linen jacket, stood out starkly, appearing increasingly out of place and shabby.
"Sibyl, who is this...?" Kevin, with an arm around Sibyl's slender waist, naturally turned his gaze towards the unfamiliar Leon, a faint arch to his sword-like eyebrows as he assessed him openly.
"Him?" Sibyl's tone was airy, tinged with nonchalance. "The son of an old acquaintance of Aelia's mother. His name is Leon, from the borderlands. Lady Susan was worried, so she had him tag along for the fun." She then stood on tiptoe, whispered something quickly into Kevin's ear, and when her eyes flicked towards Leon, they were full of mockery.
As Kevin listened, a knowing smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. The scrutiny in his eyes when he looked at Leon was swiftly replaced by disdain. Releasing Sibyl, he took a step forward, extending a hand towards Leon with an exaggerated, seemingly enthusiastic smile plastered on his face. "Kevin Fergus, Sibyl's fiancé. My father manages a few trade routes to the northwestern border, and we have some modest holdings in Greystone City, nothing worth mentioning." He deliberately paused, his gaze lingering momentarily on Leon's simple attire, his tone taking on an obvious edge of provocation. "Since you've caught Lady Susan's eye, brother, accompanying Miss Aelia, your family background must be quite distinguished as well? May I ask what your esteemed father does? Perhaps he and my father even have business dealings?"
The barb in his words, the malice, was plain. He well knew Leon's ordinary, even fallen, background, yet deliberately flaunted his own prominence and directly inquired about the other's family, clearly intending to publicly humiliate him and witness his discomfort.
Leon's gaze drifted indifferently past the hand extended towards him, adorned with a sapphire ring. His own hands remained casually tucked in his jacket pockets. He uttered only two words, his tone flat:
"Leon."
No handshake, no pleasantries, no emotion, not even the courtesy of a proper look.
Kevin's extended hand hung awkwardly in the air, his smile freezing slightly. He seemed taken aback, as if he hadn't expected the other to dare be so disrespectful. Glancing around, he saw his companions wearing expressions of suppressed amusement, clearly also thinking this border boy didn't know his place.
He slowly withdrew his hand, his smile turning somewhat stiff and cold. He stared at Leon and gave a slight nod. "Good. A personality. We're both in Greystone City now... there's plenty of time ahead to get to know each other." He deliberately slowed his speech on the last few words, lacing them with double meaning.
With that, he turned away, ignoring Leon, and began discussing the day's plans with the others, effectively excluding Leon from the group.
Flora shot Leon a glance filled with concealed worry. Kevin Fergus was notorious in Silverlight Academy for being domineering and troublesome. His family was prominent, and he ran with a pack of young nobles, his behavior flamboyant. Once, a commoner student had offended him over some trivial matter and was soon found beaten in a dark alley with a broken leg, ultimately forced to drop out. The Fergus family smoothed things over with money, and the matter was dropped. In the academy, few were willing to provoke this troublemaker.
Leon felt her gaze and returned an extremely faint, almost reassuringly calm look.
Flora, however, gave a soft "hmph" and turned her face away. A friendly warning, and he wouldn't even accept it, acting all indifferent. Really... so ungrateful! She quietly tagged Leon with a label in her mind.
"It's still early. Let's head to the 'Gold Crown Hall' first for some poetry, drinks, and games. After that, we'll go to the 'Fergus Tavern' my father just opened in the new district—I've prepared a feast for Sibyl! After the banquet, we'll go to the 'Kingfisher's Song.' Their mead and singing are truly unmatched in Greystone City! No one leaves early tonight!" Kevin announced grandly, full of high spirits.
The suggestion was met with immediate cheers. These energetic young nobles thrived on such boisterous, lavish gatherings.
"That newly opened 'Gold Crown Banquet Hall' in the new district, I've heard it's extravagantly decorated, and they even have a bard hired from the royal capital. Why not go there?" proposed a young noble dressed in brocade, a turquoise-inlaid silver bracelet on his wrist, a finely made-up young woman clinging to his arm.
"Excellent! The 'Gold Crown Hall' it is!" Kevin clapped his hands in decision.
Leon stood at the edge of the crowd, listening to their enthusiastic planning, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. Following this schedule, it would likely go on late into the night. He had an appointment with Sir Roland Crest in the evening to treat his old injury. How could he waste so much time here?
The journey from the quiet old city district where the "Silver Moon Pavilion" was located to the newly developed area was not short.
This group of fifteen or sixteen youths had somehow brought seven or eight carriages of various styles. The horses were all magnificent, the carriages decorated with individual flair. While not the top-tier luxurious conveyances of the highest nobility, they were more than enough to signify status among Greystone City's younger generation.
The most splendid one, naturally, was Kevin's private carriage. Built of dark, expensive wood with brass fittings and stained-glass windows, drawn by a pair of glossy, spirited horses. Sibyl, Aelia, and Flora were, of course, ushered into this carriage.
Kevin, acting as the undisputed leader, began assigning the remaining carriages. He directed matters with assurance, appearing considerate, until finally, everyone had a place—except for Leon, standing alone by the roadside, a solitary figure.
At that moment, Kevin seemed to suddenly remember his existence. He smacked his forehead dramatically, his face assuming an exaggerated expression of apology. "Ah! My memory! Brother Leon, my sincere apologies, I actually forgot about you!" His tone was theatrical, his eyes full of mockery. "You see, the carriages are all full, there's really no space to spare. How about... you hire a carriage yourself, or simply walk? Any coachman in the new district knows the 'Gold Crown Banquet Hall.'"
As soon as the words left his mouth, suppressed bursts of laughter erupted from several nearby carriages. These young nobles had long been displeased with this shabbily dressed border boy who dared disrespect young master Kevin. Seeing him in an awkward situation was a delight.
There clearly was still ample space in some carriages; squeezing in wouldn't have been impossible. But who would want to cross Kevin for the sake of a nobody like Leon?
Aelia, seated in Kevin's carriage, witnessed the scene through the window, her delicate eyebrows slightly furrowed. Regardless of her personal feelings about Leon, he was, after all, someone her mother had entrusted to accompany her. Seeing him publicly humiliated like this made her feel embarrassed as well. Her lips parted slightly, about to speak up and ask Kevin to make some arrangement—
"Let him come over here. We can squeeze."
A cool, slightly husky voice rang out, cutting off Aelia's unspoken words and also abruptly silencing the surrounding laughter.
Everyone looked over in surprise. It was Flora, who had been sitting quietly in the carriage. She had lifted the silk window curtain and was looking out at Leon with a placid expression. Her words even earned a surprised glance from Aelia.
Kevin's heart sank further: 'What's with Flora today? Could she actually fancy this poor wretch?' Preposterous! Everyone in Silverlight Academy knew this "Ice Rose" had lofty standards. Even that young master from the prestigious military Chu family had pursued her for a long time without a clear response. How could she possibly favor someone like this?
Sibyl, sitting in the front of the carriage, rolled her eyes dramatically. "My Lady Flora, when will you ever break this habit of being overly kind! Fine, fine. That... Leon, was it? You come sit up front. I'll squeeze in the back with them!" With that, she deftly pushed the door open, got out, and offered the front passenger seat, climbing into the back row with a hint of displeasure.
Kevin's carriage was a spacious travel model; fitting three young women in the back, though slightly snug, was manageable.
Leon glanced at Flora with mild surprise. This girl's nature, as in his past life's memory, held a touch of almost naive kindness. In his previous life, when he was bullied by Kevin and his gang, Flora had occasionally intervened, unable to stand it, though her tone was often cold.
He said nothing more, merely giving Flora a slight nod of thanks before calmly climbing into the front passenger seat.
Seeing this, Kevin's expression darkened, his annoyance growing. He shot a glare at Leon's back, snorted coldly, gave the reins a sharp flick, and drove the carriage out ahead. The rest of the convoy followed, the clatter of hooves raising faint dust.
...
The new district was an area Greystone City had focused on developing in recent years. The streets were wide and orderly, lined with new stone buildings, shops, taverns, and inns standing row upon row. Compared to the old city, it was more bustling and vibrant.
The "Gold Crown Banquet Hall" was located in the heart of the new district. A three-story stone building, its exterior adorned with exquisite reliefs and long stained-glass windows, a huge gilded crown emblem hanging proudly above the entrance, gleaming brilliantly in the afternoon sun, imposing and grand.
By the time they arrived, lights were already glowing warmly inside the hall. Well-dressed attendants at the door bowed in welcome.
The young noble who had suggested coming here—young master Morris—seemed a regular. He led the way. Upon seeing him, a middle-aged man in black formal attire, looking like a steward, immediately approached with a beaming smile.
"Young Master Morris! Your presence honors us! Please, this way!"
"Hmm. A friend's birthday today. Arrange a good hall for us. Is the 'Monarch's Hall' available?" Young Master Morris's tone carried his usual arrogance.
"Oh, my deepest apologies, Young Master Morris," the steward said with a troubled expression, lowering his voice. "The 'Monarch's Hall' has been reserved today by the son of the Deputy City Defense Commander for a banquet hosting distinguished guests from the royal capital. How about... the 'Baron's Hall'? It was also recently refurbished, an excellent venue. We would never slight your esteemed party."
Morris looked back at Kevin, who showed no objection, and nodded. "Very well, the 'Baron's Hall' then. The best wine and delicacies."
"Right away! Please, follow me, everyone!" The steward's smile widened as he led the way eagerly.
Since it was Sibyl's birthday, her fiancé Kevin naturally played host. Upon entering the brightly lit "Baron's Hall," with its thick carpets, large hunting-themed tapestries and stag head mounts on the walls, Kevin grandly ordered an array of expensive southern wines, amber mead, delicate pastries, and platters of roasted meats. When the steward presented the gilt-edged wine list, Kevin didn't even blink, ordering two bottles of "Tears of the Evening Star," a wine from a famed southern vineyard highly sought after even among the capital's nobility, its price enough to cover a common family's expenses for months.
The steward's obsequious smile nearly overflowed, and Kevin's vanity was immensely satisfied.
Leon sat alone in the corner of a large leather armchair, feeling like a drop of oil in water, utterly out of place amidst the gilded opulence and the loudly conversing young nobles.
They heatedly discussed the latest hunting attire fashions, court gossip from the capital, a new batch of fine western horses at a certain stable, a bard's latest poem... These topics were alien and distant to Leon. Even if he deigned to join, he would find no opening to interject, and besides, he had no such intention.
He was intentionally or unintentionally isolated from this glamorous circle, a solitary figure.
He picked up a mug of amber-colored ale brought by a server, took a small sip, and let the slightly bitter liquid slide down his throat. His thoughts had already drifted far away, privately calculating how to find an excuse to leave earlier. His appointment with Sir Roland for treatment was tonight. He had no intention of wasting the entire evening here.
The young people began taking turns requesting songs. Those skilled in instruments took out their lutes or small flutes to liven the atmosphere. Naturally, the limelight of song and music never fell upon Leon in the corner.
As expected, the most talented performer was still Flora. Amidst the crowd's urging, she offered a modest demurral, then took up a finely crafted lute. Her slender fingers plucked a few testing notes before her red lips parted, singing a narrative poem currently popular among the capital's noble ladies, "The Maiden of the Moonwell's Prayer." Her voice was ethereal and clear, carrying that unique, slightly husky, velvety quality, rendering the maiden's longing for her lover away at war—her melancholy and secret hopes by the moonlit spring—with exquisite, soul-stirring nuance.
When the song ended, the hall erupted in applause. Even Kevin and Sibyl, who had been giving Leon the cold shoulder, couldn't help but clap in admiration.
"Truly worthy of being Silverlight Academy's 'Nightingale'!" Young Master Morris praised loudly.
"A true talent, destined for the Starlight Academy of Arts!" another noble girl chimed in, her voice tinged with envy.
Flora gave a slight bow of acknowledgment, but her gaze seemed to drift almost imperceptibly towards Leon in the corner. Seeing him merely drinking calmly, his face showing little astonishment, as if the moving performance had been no different from the ordinary wind on the street, an inexplicable, faint thread of disappointment—so slight she didn't even notice it herself—flickered through her heart.
Leon, however, gave a mental nod of approval. 'Truly outstanding talent. With that voice, coupled with her looks and bearing, if she can enter that circle and get a moderately good opportunity, fame wouldn't be difficult.' Unfortunately, his past life's memory showed her opportunities later turned out to be extremely poor.
The atmosphere in the hall grew even more lively. Amidst the slight intoxication and boisterous laughter, the heavy, carved oak door of the private room was suddenly pushed open gently from the outside.
A stunningly beautiful woman, appearing to be in her early thirties, entered with graceful steps. She wore a deep purple, low-cut velvet evening gown that showcased her snow-white shoulders and arms, her figure slender and graceful. Her hair was elegantly swept up, adorned with a pearl hairpin. Her makeup was exquisite, and a string of perfectly round pearls at her neck shimmered, complementing her mature, charming, and alluring demeanor—a stark contrast to the still-youthful boys and girls in the hall. Her arrival, accompanied by a faint, enticing fragrance, instantly captured everyone's attention.
Seeing the newcomer, a flicker of surprise passed through Kevin's eyes, immediately replaced by a doubly enthusiastic, even somewhat ingratiating smile. He rose to greet her.
"Madam Mavis? What brings you here? You truly illuminate this humble hall!"