Morning at the academy began like any other—
but it didn't feel like one.
Lunivara noticed it the moment she stepped into the hallway.
"…Did you hear?"
"…The prince still hasn't retracted his statement…"
"…But apparently, there was no proof…"
"…So was she innocent?"
The voices were lower than before.
Careful.
Uncertain.
Lunivara continued walking without changing her expression.
[So it's settling into confusion now…]
That was better than hostility.
At least uncertainty left room to move.
Inside the classroom, the atmosphere had changed again.
Students no longer looked at her with immediate judgment.
Instead—curiosity.
And hesitation.
No one spoke directly to her.
But no one dared to pretend she didn't exist either.
A strange middle ground.
"…Interesting."
Lunivara took her seat quietly.
A chair shifted beside her.
"Slide—"
Velarisse.
She didn't speak immediately this time.
Just sat down with careful composure.
Then—
"…Good morning."
Soft.
Measured.
Lunivara turned slightly.
"…Good morning."
A brief pause followed.
Velarisse hesitated, as if choosing her words.
"…About yesterday," she said carefully, "I do not believe you were responsible."
Lunivara blinked once.
[That's a shift.]
"…I see."
Velarisse continued looking at her, not avoiding eye contact.
There was something different now.
Not accusation.
Not trust either.
Just observation.
"…I wanted to say that," Velarisse added quietly.
A beat passed.
"…Thank you," Lunivara replied simply.
That answer seemed to catch Velarisse slightly off guard.
"…You're welcome."
But even after speaking, she didn't turn away immediately.
Her gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary.
"…Have we truly never met before?" she asked again, softer this time.
Lunivara felt the familiar tension rise briefly—but she kept it buried.
"I believe we have not," she answered calmly.
Velarisse frowned faintly, as if that answer still didn't sit right.
"…I see."
This time, she finally turned away.
But her attention didn't fully leave.
The classroom slowly filled with noise again.
Yet something had changed in how people looked at Lunivara.
Not fear.
Not ridicule.
Something less defined.
Unstable.
"Chatter… chatter…"
Lunivara leaned slightly back in her chair.
[The perception isn't fixed anymore.]
That meant control was slipping from simple rumors.
Now it depended on events.
On actions.
On what people saw with their own eyes.
[Good.]
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
"Knock—"
The classroom door opened.
A professor stepped in, holding a stack of documents.
"Lunivara Morcant."
All eyes shifted slightly.
Even now, her name carried weight.
"…Yes, professor?"
He adjusted his glasses.
"There is a matter requiring delivery assistance. Take these to the sword club room."
He placed the stack on her desk.
"…Understood."
No questions were asked.
No resistance given.
Just acceptance.
She stood, took the documents, and left the room.
The hallway was quieter near the club wing.
Lunivara walked at a steady pace, her thoughts already shifting.
[Again with documents…]
But this time—
something felt slightly different.
She stopped in front of the sword club door.
It was already slightly open.
"…?"
She pushed it gently.
Inside—
The room was filled with weapons racks, training gear, and stacked papers that looked dangerously close to collapsing.
At the center.
a boy sat buried in paperwork, surrounded by chaos.
He looked up instantly.
"…You're the delivery?"
"Yes."
Without hesitation, Lunivara stepped forward and placed the documents on the table.
Then she paused.
The sheer amount of unfinished work was obvious.
"…Do you need help?"
The boy blinked.
"…What?"
"I can assist briefly," she added.
A short silence followed.
Then—
"…You can?"
"Yes."
That was all.
She immediately began organizing the papers.
Fast.
Precise.
Efficient.
The boy watched in silence as the overwhelming mess started becoming structured within moments.
"…You're… really fast," he finally said.
Lunivara didn't look up.
"It is only sorting."
But for him, it was clearly more than that.
By the time everything was arranged—
it was done.
No errors.
No delay.
Just completion.
The boy slowly stood, still processing what he had seen.
"…I'll report this to the captain."
Lunivara paused slightly.
"…Captain?"
"Yes," he nodded. "Leontius."
That name.
It landed quietly—but clearly.
"…I see."
She gave a small nod and turned to leave.
Unaware that the report already carried more weight than she expected.
Back in the hallway, the boy remained still for a moment.
Then he muttered under his breath.
"…She wasn't normal."
And he turned to leave as well.
Elsewhere, word was already moving.
Silently.
Toward someone who noticed patterns more than people.
Leontius.