Chapter 154
Evebie walked down the main building’s hallway with her head bowed, carrying the books for today’s lessons in her bag.
Plodding.
Her little shoes dragged wearily across the floor.
The next class was Professor Malres’ mathematics lesson.
Normally, Evebie would have been excited, walking briskly, maybe even running to the classroom.
But today, she simply couldn’t.
Before entering the main building, she had overheard students talking, seemingly loud enough for her to hear.
“The princess hasn’t come for two days now.”
“Right? One of the professors even prepared their office so the princess would have a space to study…”
The students’ voices were filled with disappointment.
Although she had not yet been officially recognized as a princess, everyone already referred to Eve as such.
It wasn’t as if etiquette-obsessed people were nearby. And since Eve would soon officially become a princess, calling her that in advance seemed harmless.
Moreover, her expression clearly changed when addressed as “Eve” versus “Princess,” so they couldn’t help but call her the princess.
The Academy was filled with social groups.
By the second semester, these cliques were already formed.
Naturally, Arcel, Luska, and Irene, who wanted to be friends with everyone, had formed a tight-knit group of four, including Evebie.
Those who missed out on the people they wanted as friends formed other groups, but remained unsatisfied.
Then, Eve suddenly appeared.
It was natural for students—and even professors—to cluster around her, trying to please her.
A royal, the next emperor.
Who would miss an opportunity to build connections with someone like that?
Furthermore, Eve seemed to deliberately distance herself from Evebie.
Those who had been frustrated by Evebie now finally had an excuse to gossip about her.
“I heard that girl begged to get on the carriage?”
“Maybe she did it because she didn’t want the Emperor’s attention to shift to the princess.”
“Could she really be that cruel?”
“Who knows? Kids raised without care can be vicious.”
The students casually spat out words almost like violence, glaring at Evebie as she passed.
No, that’s not true.
It wasn’t her—it was Eve who had asked to board the carriage, and she had fallen because of that. But no one would believe her.
So Evebie stayed silent, heading alone to the classroom.
Would His Majesty think that too?
She remembered Clois’ words from the audience chamber: he hoped she and Eve would avoid meeting.
Does the Emperor think I might do something bad to Miss Eve?
Her jaw tightened like a walnut.
It was unfair, sad, and frightening all at once.
I didn’t do anything bad.
But what if no one continued to trust her?
What if the students, what if the Emperor, continued to dislike her?
And Miss Eve really seems to hate me…
She remembered the sight of Eve crying, clinging to her: “He’s my father, why are you holding him?”
Evebie couldn’t say anything.
If their positions were reversed, she, too, would have cried and been angry like Eve.
Knowing that, she hadn’t told her to let go.
Instead, she clung even more to the Emperor.
I really must have done something bad.
She wondered how frustrated and angry Eve must have felt seeing her like that.
The more she thought about it, the more her shoulders slumped.
The ministers said to send me away.
Then they might actually send her far away, maybe even back to the orphanage.
I don’t want that.
It wasn’t that she disliked the orphanage. She missed the headmistress and her friends there.
But she had grown taller and stronger here because she ate well.
Returning would mean eating her portion, leaving less for her friends.
Moreover, back in Elam City, she couldn’t learn nearly as much as she did at the Academy.
As Evebie pondered why she didn’t want to go back, she noticed a new notice posted on the bulletin board in front of the staff office.
It was written on a large sheet, unlike the usual short notices, so she went closer to read it.
“Western Academy Gifted Branch Opening…?”
Reading further, she saw that starting next year, a branch of the Academy would open in the western region.
It was an area heavily affected by battles during the Succession War.
During reconstruction, it had been a focus of Clois’ efforts, second only to the capital.
It wouldn’t compensate for what people lost during the war, but it could help restore their daily lives.
After the central Academy succeeded this year, they planned to open the western branch immediately.
The notice mentioned that several current professors would move to the western branch next year.
Students whose hometowns were in the west could transfer if they wished, following the same curriculum.
Of course, few students would want to transfer. Most had come to the central Academy to build connections and establish themselves.
Evebie was the only one interested in the notice.
Her eyes paused on one line:
“Scholarships available for transfer to Western Academy. Full tuition and living expenses provided until graduation. Extra points for interviews if seeking work within the Academy…”
She read and reread the conditions as if hypnotized.
A thought came to her: “What if I went there?”
If she had been able to choose the Academy with such conditions from the start, she would have gone to the western branch without hesitation.
Here, everything was provided, but no additional money could be earned.
In the west, scholarships were available, and after graduation, both Academy admission and employment were guaranteed.
These conditions might mean little to wealthy students, but for Evebie—and for students in similar circumstances—they were extremely attractive.
As Evebie continued reading, Irene emerged from the staff office.
“Evebie, you’re here? What are you looking at?”
Irene came over and read the notice as well.
Her face soon contorted in disbelief.
“What are you thinking? You’re not planning to go to the western branch, are you?”
Irene grabbed Evebie’s shoulders and shook her.
Then she whipped her head toward the distant palace and pointed.
No explanation was needed; it was the sailors’ gesture she had mentioned before.
In the south, sailors had excellent eyesight, able to see far-off people without a telescope.
So insults were given via gestures rather than shouting.
“I know those gestures! Evebie, watch closely!”
Irene demonstrated an elaborate series of gestures.
Luska, who knew their meanings from her father, shook her head.
“You know insults they don’t even use on battlefields…?”
“This is basic in the south! You need to know these to fight!”
When Evebie asked what it meant, Luska explained roughly: it conveyed questions about the other parent, the child’s future, and the ancestry.
It also implied unfavorable family relations.
And now they were gesturing that at the palace.
“No, Irene!”
“Let me! If I don’t vent this way, I’ll explode!”
Worried someone might see, Evebie pulled Irene into Professor Malres’ classroom, still performing dozens of gestures toward the palace.
Arcel and Luska, already there, watched Irene’s wild gestures in shock.
“Why? What’s going on?”
Irene shouted.
“Because of that girl Eve, Evebie is planning to go to the western branch!”
“What?”
“What are you talking about?”
The two boys jumped up, startled.
“No! Irene misunderstood! I was just reading the notice…”
“If it weren’t for Eve, would she even bother reading it? I’m furious!”
Irene pounded her chest in frustration, then pulled Evebie into a hug.
“You absolutely cannot go! Well, you can, but I’ll go too! West? Great! A new place will be fun!”
Pinching Evebie’s cheeks, Irene nodded vigorously.
She meant it.
Connections in the central Academy were for the older students. Irene would go with Evebie.
Upon hearing this, Luska raised her hand.
“Then I’ll go to the western Academy too! I’ve heard the western knights are strong—it’ll be fun!”
If Marquis Ragselve had heard, he might have grabbed his neck, impressed.
With Irene and Luska declaring, Arcel also spoke.
“I’ve been interested in Western regional folklore. Studying there wouldn’t be bad.”
The children casually voiced what would have upset both their parents and the Academy professors.
But they were serious.
If Evebie left, they would follow.
No reason was needed. It was simply natural.
At that moment, Professor Malres entered and, seeing Evebie, a sobbing Irene, a resolute Luska, and a grim Arcel, asked:
“Is something wrong? What’s going on?”
Before Evebie could answer, Irene spoke.
“Evebie says she’s going to the western Academy!”
Professor Malres’ eyes widened.
A few seconds later, he turned toward the hallway.
“Where are you going, sir?”
“I’m submitting the transfer application to the western branch! Don’t stop me!”
Startled, Evebie grabbed his sleeve.
“I’m not going! Really! I’m not going! I just read the notice!”
Even so, the four of them could not contain their excitement, puffing and stomping in frustration.
Watching those who promised to go with her, Evebie’s lips twitched upward.
They’ll go with me.
The people she had met here cared about her.
A moment ago, she had felt utterly alone in the world.
Now, she felt neither sadness nor fear.
