Chapter : 13
8. Getting the First Button Right (2)
“How is that the attitude of a fourteen-year-old who nearly lost a hand?”
She refreshed the list of questions for the guardian consultations and, with practiced ease, tried to restore order to the chaotic classroom atmosphere.
It was time for individual consultations called by alphabetical order.
Cordelia Arche, the daughter of the Arche Duke, with her long black hair flowing down, spoke first.
“I don’t really have anything I particularly want to achieve yet.”
“Many of them are like that, aren’t they…?”
“Just… I want to let go of everything for now and live freely, doing the things I’ve wanted to do.”
Fifteen, right?
The words sounded like they could have come from a life-weary old man. Lucien glanced back at the student’s file.
“Has she been through a lot?”
“I think it would be perfectly possible for you, Miss Cordelia,” Lucien said.
“I have my reasons.”
Her pink eyes lowered gloomily.
“One hundred percent complicated family situation. Better not to ask.”
Lucien drew a mental red X.
Before leaving, Cordelia looked at her for a moment.
“Teacher, I’m glad to see you like this.”
“Me? Why?”
Sure, they might have brushed past each other at social gatherings, but they weren’t exactly acquaintances.
Not the kind to be happy to see each other after a long time.
Moreover, Cordelia studied business administration and hadn’t taken her classes until last year.
Seeing Lucien’s puzzled expression, Cordelia shook her head.
“I just wanted to meet you once. Thank you for your time.”
The girl’s detached, almost worldly demeanor was odd, but her extreme politeness and gentle behavior were completely unlike the rumors.
Lucien pouted.
“The rumors were completely wrong. Everyone who talks badly about her should just fail.”
Although that would mean eight out of ten central nobles should fail.
The second student was Beatrice.
Having previously broken down in tears at the mere sight of her, Lucien was tense, but Beatrice seemed calmer this time.
“I want to live a long life. Um… past twenty years old, at least.”
“Do you know what comes after twenty, Miss Beatrice?”
Beatrice gave a sly smile.
“Are you teasing me? It’s twenty-one, teacher. And I’m not four, I’m fourteen.”
“……”
Exactly.
Why would a fourteen-year-old be hoping to live only until twenty? Like someone already sentenced to die before reaching it.
Lucien forced a smile, trying to hide her unease.
“Alright, good luck.”
“You should also live a long life, teacher. Definitely.”
Her green eyes were filled with earnestness, like seeing a lost family member.
“I’m still young…”
Lucien, feeling unsettled, called the next student—someone whose name started with E.
“I’m going to leave the Magetower.”
The boy designated as the next Lord of the Magetower spoke. His blue-violet eyes were serious.
Lucien responded seriously.
“I support your choice for a free career path.”
“You know, teacher, your personality is kind of annoying, right?”
Lucien smiled faintly.
“Noel, are you thinking of retaking the ‘Understanding Conversation Etiquette’ class?”
“Are you crazy?! Even our elders don’t make us do that!”
“Right? I just wondered if you’d forgotten what you learned. As your homeroom teacher, I thought I’d offer a remedial course.”
“……”
Noel shut his mouth and straightened his posture. Lucien nodded.
Those who know when to bend have hope.
And hope did not appear for the next student.
“What did you do to that girl?”
The boy coming in for consultation to interrogate her was Klein Münster.
The same student who had spent the entire morning shooting her distrustful, hostile, suspicious looks.
Thankfully, she knew the Münster family background, otherwise it might have hurt her.
Lucien raised empty hands and shook her head.
“If you’re talking about Miss Beatrice, it’s the first time we’ve met today.”
“Liar. She was trembling in fear when she saw you.”
Klein’s energy was sharp, but beneath it lay other emotions: fear, caution, unease.
Lucien remained silent. Somehow, she saw a reflection of her younger sibling in him.
“I don’t trust you. Anyway, you also—”
The boy, intending to speak sharply, froze with an awkward expression and closed his mouth.
“Klein, we’ll talk again once the misunderstanding is cleared.”
Lucien let him leave. Bearing hostility for no reason is exhausting.
The last student was Estelle, the empire’s only princess and the treasure of the royal family.
Reading the tense atmosphere left by her childhood friend, the girl sighed deeply.
“Klein… please understand. He’s still young.”
“Aren’t they both thirteen?”
“I’m talking about mental age.”
Fine, Lucien turned her attention to Estelle’s schedule.
“Majoring in economics, and your courses are well-rounded. Seems like a lot of subjects. What do you want to do after graduation?”
“Be a property owner.”
What?
Lucien raised her head. Estelle answered casually.
“My dream is to be a long-lived property owner.”
…A princess?
Lucien was at a loss for words. Estelle’s eyes gleamed as she asked her question.
“Teacher, this is just out of personal curiosity.”
“Yes?”
“If you opened your eyes and saw an unfamiliar ceiling, what situation would you think you were in?”
Kids these days have such diverse curiosities, Lucien tilted her head.
“Hospital?”
“Oh… I thought so.”
Estelle looked disappointed, like scratching a losing lottery ticket she thought she had won.
Lucien, having done nothing wrong, couldn’t help but notice.
“What’s with the kids this year?”
Why did these young students carry the scent of socially worn adults?
Is the future of this country really going to be okay like this?
The tumultuous morning ended, and Lucien enjoyed her free time after lunch.
“Ah, I wish every day was free.”
Lucien collapsed onto her desk, indulging in this selfish hope.
At that moment, the faculty office door flung open.
“Something’s happened! You need to come quickly!”
Teachers working at their desks shivered.
Hoping their names weren’t called, they slowly turned their heads.
“Teacher Philonia!”
Lucien sank her head.
She wished for something like winning the Flora Lottery instead of this…
“What’s the situation?”
“Yes?”
“Any casualties?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Then it’s fine.”
Having confirmed the most important point first, Lucien lifted her heart back up.
She had once been called for a similar situation and found a bleeding student.
It happened during the free afternoon at the girls’ dormitory. One nearly died, another was arrested as the culprit.
She could never forget that scene.
“So, what happened?”
“Noel Efron intruded into the northern tower and tampered with a barrier stone. Fortunately, no serious problem has occurred yet, but the danger alarm keeps going off.”
“Noel alone?”
“There might have been other students with him, but details are unclear. Guards have been dispatched immediately.”
A harsh welcome on the first day.
And he had to touch the barrier stone after a morning like that…
“Did I provoke his curiosity for no reason?”
Yet for the future Lord of the Magetower, who had already surpassed his peers’ magic level, keeping him in a dull basic class was the best way.
You can’t tie him down.
Lucien left with a gloomy expression.
“How does he know there’s no class this afternoon and pick this exact moment to cause trouble?”
“Lucien, let’s go together. I don’t have afternoon classes today either.”
Ayla, also in charge of the first-year students, stood up.
Though she had been a senior at the academy, Lucien had never met her during her own student years.
Her dark green hair was unusual; if Lucien had seen her even once, she wouldn’t have forgotten.
“You must be busy with the first week, it’s okay.”
“No, we’re in the same grade. We should help each other.”
She smiled awkwardly.
Having been assigned different parts of the hopeful and hopeless students, she seemed cautious around her junior.
“Noel… why touch the barrier stone of all things? How does he know it’s his homeroom teacher’s specialty?”
“He probably didn’t know. You know how Magetower people are—curious, but not malicious.”
“Not as bad as I thought? Judging by how you’re defending him.”
Ayla asked with surprise, and Lucien straightened her expression.
“Who’s defending? I’m just objectively describing his character.”
“No, it looks like you’re defending him.”
Ayla shrugged. She seemed to understand her junior’s personality a bit.
