Everyday Life as the Dream Couple
The days after the kiss in the hallway changed everything.
Where Marion used to be a shadow—unseen in the last row—he was now automatically seen because he was seen with Tamara. She sat beside him in class even when there were empty seats elsewhere. They waited together outside the lecture hall. They walked together to the mess hall.
There was whispering, of course. Whispering that never stopped.
"The normal boy and the noble girl…"
"Maybe she's just playing with him."
"Or maybe she really sees something in him?"
Tamara didn't seem to care.
Whenever a stare got too nasty or a comment too loud, she simply placed her hand on Marion's arm—one small gesture that changed the entire room.
In class, nothing else changed. The instructors still gave Marion the same irritated looks when his spell produced nothing but a puff of smoke instead of a flame. Tamara still got praised for her precise formulas, just like the other gifted students. Nobody suddenly treated him gently. Nobody went easy on him.
But for Marion it was night and day.
Where he would have lowered his head in shame after failing, he now lifted his gaze—because he knew Tamara was watching. And sometimes, when he failed completely, she didn't even flinch. She just smiled and whispered:
"Next time."
During breaks they stayed away from the biggest crowds, often sitting near the edge of the courtyard where the old stone walls cast shade. Marion felt safe there. Sometimes Tamara read from a book. Sometimes she spoke about her family—careful, as if afraid of revealing too much. He mostly just listened, and it felt like he was finally part of something.
Of course, the class didn't leave them alone.
"Tamara, you must be desperate if you're taking him," Rico shouted once across the room.
Tamara only raised an eyebrow and replied coolly, "Desperate is someone who has to shout that loudly just to be noticed."
Laughter. Rico stayed quiet for the rest of the lesson.
Jenny kept rolling her eyes dramatically whenever Marion and Tamara appeared together. Katie smiled in that smug way, like she'd spotted a secret nobody else had. And Lukas and Basti? They cracked up every time Marion carried Tamara's bag or held a door for her—
"Höhöhö, Butler-Marion!"
—but Marion let them talk.
Because at the end of the day, he walked with Tamara across the Academy grounds, and when she took his hand, the buzzing behind them didn't matter.
The Job
Marion couldn't stop thinking about it.
Tamara had given him a smile warmer than any flame he'd ever managed to summon. He wanted to give something back—something that proved he wasn't only taking.
"A gift," he murmured as he crossed the courtyard with Tobia and Manuel. "Something nice. But… I don't have any money."
"Bro," Tobia sighed, "we never have money."
"Exactly." Marion stopped and looked at them. "That's why we're going to the Guild."
Manuel's face twisted. "The Mercenaries' Guild? Are you trying to get us killed? We're mage students, not… not bone-breakers."
"We can take small jobs," Marion insisted. "Errands. Guard duty. Anything. Please. Help me."
The two exchanged a look.
Tobia shrugged. "Fine. But if I die, I'm leaving you my entire cheese supply."
"And I'm leaving you my debts," Manuel added dryly.
The Mercenaries' Guild stood on the edge of Parzipazio—a heavy building with iron gates and a sign carved with a wolf's head. The stink of beer, smoke, and blood hung in the air even outside.
Before they could step in, they walked straight into a scene.
A young beastman—a dog-boy, barely their age—lay on the ground. Around him stood half a dozen men in chainmail: big, scarred, laughing. One of them kicked the boy hard in the stomach. The body jerked; blood sprayed from his mouth.
"Get up, mutt! Or are you only good for dying?"
The owner—a thin merchant in an apron—stood nearby. His hands trembled. His lips shaped silent words. Everyone could see he was furious… and everyone could see he didn't dare to speak.
Tobia grabbed Marion's arm. "Bro… let's just keep walking."
Marion couldn't.
The boy wheezed, curled in on himself while the mercenaries roared with laughter. Passersby hurried past, glanced once, then lowered their eyes. Nobody intervened.
Manuel muttered, "That's normal here… people don't say anything. Never have."
Nausea rose in Marion's throat, but he forced himself to look away.
If I say something, I'm dead before I finish the sentence.
He pressed his lips together and walked on.
Inside, the air was no better: a low, smoky hall packed with tables, mugs, and playing cards. Rusted swords and monster trophies hung on the walls. Men and women with scarred faces looked the three of them over like prey as they entered.
"Well, look at that," one bellowed. "The little spell-learners got lost."
Laughter followed.
Tobia took half a step back. Manuel stared straight ahead, stubborn, though his Adam's apple bobbed with nerves. Marion fought not to shrink.
They approached the counter, where a woman in a leather vest stood with a cold gaze. Her arms were muscular, a dagger flashing at her hip.
"What do you want?" she asked without looking up.
"A job," Marion managed. His voice sounded thinner than he'd hoped.
She slowly lifted her eyes. "You? You're students."
"We… we want experience."
Behind them, a booming laugh shook the room. "Experience! Hear that?" A bearded mercenary slammed his fist on the table hard enough to make mugs wobble. "The little bookworms want to play heroes!"
"Let them," a woman with a scarred face said, leaning forward. "Give 'em something with rats. Or latrines. See how long they last."
Marion clenched his fists. He wanted to speak, but his voice failed him.
The bartender rummaged through a stack of parchment rolls and finally slapped one down in front of them.
"There. Fresh." Her tone was sharp—almost amused. "Nobody wants it."
Marion leaned closer. In messy handwriting it read:
"Pelata. Low goblins in the forest. Killing sheep, threatening children. Town council offers small reward. Farmers refuse to deliver wool until the pest is eliminated."
Tobia sucked in a breath. "A… goblin hunt?"
Manuel's mouth tightened. "That's not an errand. That's suicide."
"Ha!" The same mercenary who'd been mocking them stepped closer. His armor was dented, his face cut with old scars, and his breath smelled like stale beer. "Perfect for three mage brats who want to play hero."
Laughter rolled through the hall.
The bartender's lips curled into a thin grin. "Sign it or get out. But if you manage it, you get five silver. More than you'll burn through in the mess hall in a month."
Tobia looked at Marion like he was begging. "Bro, we can't."
Manuel grit his teeth. "Five silver… that's a fortune for us." Then he stared right at Marion. "You want money for her, don't you?"
Marion's heart hammered.
Tamara. Her smile. Her kiss. Her trust.
He couldn't stand in front of her empty-handed.
"We… we'll do it."
The bartender raised an eyebrow. "Then put your names down. And pray the goblins are weaker than you are."
Their fingers trembled as they signed.
Marion felt the entire hall watching—mockery, hunger, and that ugly kind of grin like they were already picturing the bodies.
Outside, cold air slapped them in the face.
Tobia was ghost-pale. "We're screwed. Goblins! I've never fought anything except burnt roast."
"Shut up," Manuel snapped, but his voice shook. "We'll manage. Somehow."
Marion looked up at the sky. Clouds were gathering. Wind slid through the alleys carrying smoke and ash.
This is the way.
For Tamara. For me.
He forced a smile. "We do it together. Like always."
Tobia nodded weakly. "Together…"
Manuel shoved the parchment into his bag. "Pelata's two hours from here. If we go now, we'll reach it before nightfall."
Marion nodded. "Then we go."
They left the Guild behind.
The dog-boy was gone—only a dark pool of blood remained on the stones. The merchant stood beside it, staring into nothing, his apron still stained red.
Marion turned his eyes away, but the lump in his throat stayed.
That's how it ends here. That fast. Forgotten.
He gripped his belt tighter, where his ridiculous little practice knife hung.
Head lowered—but a burning spark in his chest—Marion stepped through the gate.
And so their first hunt began.