When Isla's royal carriage finally pulled up to the grand iron gates of the academy, she was immediately struck by an incredibly strange, foreign sound.
The school was usually enveloped in a stiff, suffocating silence that made the prestigious institution feel more like a depressing funeral parlor than a place of learning, but today, the atmosphere was completely unrecognizable.
The courtyard was vibrating with an unprecedented, buzzing symphony of joyous laughter and chaotic, excited chatter.
Even the notoriously grumpy, thick-mustached supervisor—the very same man who had cruelly berated Dorian just the other day—was standing by the entrance, actually smiling and chatting amiably with the passing students.
Utterly bewildered by this bizarre alternate reality, Isla gracefully stepped down from her carriage and approached him.
"Excuse me, sir," she asked, her brow furrowing in deep confusion.
"Is there some sort of grand royal festival or special academy function happening today to cause all this incredible uproar?"
The supervisor chuckled softly, shaking his head with a surprisingly gentle expression.
"No, Princess Isla, there is no official royal function on the schedule.
But I assure you, for many of the children standing in this courtyard today, this beautiful morning is nothing short of a miraculous festival."
Isla blinked, her confusion only deepening. "I don't understand. What exactly do you mean?"
Before the supervisor could explain, a loud, incredibly joyful voice echoed across the crowded courtyard.
"Isla!"
She spun around, her blue eyes widening in absolute, paralyzed shock.
"Dorian?!" she gasped.
'Are his parents completely out of their minds?!' she thought angrily, a fierce wave of protective indignation immediately flaring up in her chest.
'Are they so incredibly desperate and greedy for a few meager coins that they actually sent their critically ill child back to this place to scrub floors right after surviving a venomous snake bite? What a stupid, terrifyingly irresponsible family!'
But as Dorian ran up to her, stopping just inches away, Isla realized there was no heavy mop bucket in his hands, and his clothes, while still simple, were perfectly clean.
His pale face was practically glowing with pure, unadulterated happiness.
He was breathing heavily, a massive, radiant grin stretching from ear to ear as he began thanking her profusely, over and over again.
Utterly bewildered, Isla stared at him. "Dorian, what are you talking about? What exactly did I do?"
"You did absolutely everything!" Dorian beamed, thick tears of overwhelming joy welling in his bright eyes.
"Because of you, commoners finally have the right to a proper education! We have actually been granted the incredible, life-changing opportunity to study at this prestigious academy.
From this day forward, we will sit on the very same wooden benches as the high-born nobles, attending lectures openly in the broad daylight, with absolute pride and full royal permission!"
He paused to wipe a stray tear from his cheek, his voice trembling with deep emotion.
"A direct royal decree arrived from the King's palace this morning, officially stating that commoners now have the fundamental right to free education in the capital! And everyone here knows that this miracle happened solely because you fought for us, Isla!"
Isla's heart swelled, a profound, breathtaking warmth completely washing away the heavy, cynical exhaustion she had been carrying.
Her father had actually listened to her. This was the grand surprise he had promised at the breakfast table.
"When I heard the royal crier announce the decree in the village, it was as if a magical healing wave washed over my entire body," Dorian continued eagerly, practically vibrating with excitement.
"I suddenly felt completely fine! I couldn't even stop myself from running all the way here. For the very first time in my entire life, I am walking through these academy gates to study, not to scrub toilets!
Thank you, Isla! And that awful supervisor with the mustache can never, ever scold me or scream cruel curses at me again!"
Suddenly, the heavy, brass academy bell rang, its deep toll echoing loudly through the courtyard to signal the immediate start of the morning classes.
"It's time for class! Shall we go?" Dorian asked eagerly, looking at the grand academic building with a newfound, fearless reverence.
Isla let out a brilliant, genuinely happy laugh, the sound bubbling up from the very depths of her chest.
"Why not?
You honestly look a hundred times more excited to be here than I do!
Technically, today is your real, official first day as a student. Oh, and one more thing, Dorian..." She pointed a commanding little finger at him, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Starting today, you are going to sit right next to me in every single class. Okay?"
'Thank goodness,' she murmured quietly to herself, a wicked, highly satisfied little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
'At the very least, forcing Dorian to sit next to me means I won't have to endure being seated next to Lucier, that absolutely obnoxious, suffocating, walking perfume factory of a prince.'
"What was that?"
Dorian asked, tilting his head in confusion as he caught the tail end of her quiet muttering.
"Oh, nothing at all!" Isla smiled brightly, effortlessly linking her small arm through his. "Just thinking out loud. Come on, Dorian, let's go!"
As Isla and Dorian confidently strode into the sunlit, bustling classroom, their triumphant mood was immediately interrupted by a harsh, grating sneer.
Prince Lucier, already lounging at his desk with an infuriating air of unearned superiority, immediately targeted Dorian.
"What is this absolute filth doing in a classroom?"
Lucier barked, his voice dripping with venomous disgust as he pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the boy.
He hurled a barrage of vicious, degrading insults, loudly demanding that a lowly commoner belonged groveling on the floor, not sitting on the polished wooden benches beside the high-born nobility.
Isla did not hesitate for a single fraction of a second.
She stepped firmly in front of Dorian, her blue eyes flashing with a dangerous, unyielding authority that silenced the murmurs in the room.
"Need I remind you, Prince Lucier, that you are currently standing on the sovereign soil of the Elephant Kingdom, not your own?"
she demanded, her voice ringing clear and sharp as a blade.
"This academy operates under the direct, indisputable decree of my father, the King! Commoners have every absolute right to study right alongside us.
Furthermore, there is not a single person in this room who has the slightest interest in listening to your pathetic, elitist whining!"
Lucier's face flushed, but before he could formulate a comeback, Isla took a casual step forward, her lips curving into a wicked, devastatingly mocking smirk.
"And speaking of sitting down..." she continued smoothly, her voice carrying easily across the dead-silent classroom.
"I heard a fascinating little rumor from the palace servants this morning.
Apparently, after your incredibly dramatic, clumsy tumble from your chair at the breakfast table, your royal backside suffered quite a severe bruising.
I highly suggest you sit down very, very carefully on these hard wooden benches today.
Or, if it is simply too agonizing for your fragile ego and your bruised behind, I could summon the maids to bring you a soft little cushion?
Actually, perhaps it would just be best if you remained completely standing for the entire lecture to minimize the pain!"
For a split second, there was pure silence.
Then, the entire classroom erupted into a chorus of raucous, unapologetic laughter. The young nobles openly pointed and giggled at the blushing, utterly humiliated Prince.
Having successfully destroyed her enemy's morning, Isla linked her arm through Dorian's and gracefully led him to a desk near the front, settling into their seats with an immensely satisfied smile.
Desperate to salvage whatever tiny fragment of his shattered pride remained, Lucier furiously stomped over to a desk beside a quiet, timid girl—the daughter of a local Duke.
He immediately leaned entirely too far into her personal space, aggressively flirting and batting his eyelashes in a desperate attempt to look charming and unfazed.
The poor girl visibly shrank back, her face twisting in extreme discomfort, but she was utterly paralyzed by fear.
Because he was the Prince of the powerful Tiger Kingdom and she was merely a Duke's daughter, she didn't dare speak a word of protest.
Isla watched this entire predatory, deeply uncomfortable display unfold from the corner of her eye.
'Oh, absolutely not,' Isla thought, her fierce protective instincts flaring up right alongside her vindictive streak.
'Why not teach this arrogant creep another unforgettable lesson?'
Her sharp gaze locked onto the ridiculous red rose Lucier was twirling in his fingers—the very same cliché prop he constantly sniffed to look mysterious and romantic, which, in reality, just made him look exponentially more cringe-worth