༺ Noah's POV ༻
As Mari and I stepped into the hall, I couldn't help but scan the room.
Seniors were scattered among the first years.
Handpicked students from the second and third years, likely invited to intimidate and inspire.
Among the clusters of chatting students, I spotted them.
Maya, Ariana, and Draven seated together at a table near the far side of the hall.
Typical.
They always seed to find one another like moths to a fla.
Draven's casual slouch, Ariana's composed deanor, and Maya's pointed glances around the room confird what I already suspected.
They'd notice if I approached.
No thanks.
"Co on, Mari."
I gestured toward an unoccupied table at the opposite end of the hall.
Her steps were tentative as she followed , her nervousness practically radiating off her.
I didn't care to offer her reassurance.
It wasn't my job to coddle her insecurities.
We sat, and for a while, the silence between us stretched, interrupted only by the sound of clinking glasses and muffled conversations around the hall.
"Mari..."
I said abruptly, turning to her.
"Get a glass of red wine.
And while you're at it, feel free to get yourself sothing too."
She blinked, startled by the order, but quickly nodded and left the table.
I leaned back, observing the room again, hoping the ti would pass quickly.
Before long, a group of first-years hesitantly approached my table.
Their steps faltered as they drew closer, their wide-eyed expressions practically dripping with awe and apprehension.
"Um... Noah Ashbourne?"
One of them ventured, a boy with sandy hair and an overly enthusiastic smile.
I didn't respond imdiately, letting the silence settle and their nerves fester.
'... Sigh... Here goes... '
Finally, I turned to them, raising an eyebrow.
"What is it?"
"Well, we were wondering—"
The boy began, only to be interrupted by a dark-haired girl at his side.
"You're the top student, aren't you?
From the second years?
What's your secret?"
She asked eagerly.
Another chid in.
"How do you manage to stay at the top?
Do you have any tips for us first-years?"
The questions ca rapid-fire, and my patience, already thin, began to fray.
I let them ramble for a mont before I cut in, my tone dripping with condescension.
"Secret? Tips?"
I repeated, scoffing.
"Are you first-years always this naive, or is it just the lot of you?
Here's a tip: if you have to ask for secrets to success, you've already failed."
The sandy-haired boy stamred.
"B-But—"
"But nothing..."
I interrupted, waving a dismissive hand.
"You're wasting my ti, and frankly, I have better things to do than entertain your inane questions.
Now, leave."
The group exchanged shocked glances, their earlier enthusiasm extinguished.
Murmuring apologies, they shuffled away, leaving in peace once again.
A few monts later, Mari returned, a glass of red wine in one hand and a small plate of cake in the other.
She set the wine in front of , then sat down, her movents careful and deliberate.
She picked at the cake with a fork, taking small bites and chewing slowly.
Her discomfort was palpable—her shoulders stiff, her gaze darting around the room as though she expected soone to reprimand her.
I watched her for a mont, the corner of my mouth twitching in vague amusent.
"You look like a lost kitten.
Have you never been to a party before?"
Mari hesitated, lowering her fork.
"No, I haven't..."
She admitted softly.
"From a young age, I was trained to be a maid and assistant to noble families.
I've never had the ti or opportunity for things like this."
I sipped my wine, considering her words.
Typical.
Another cog in the machine, molded by the expectations of nobility.
Her nervous deanor, however, was almost endearing in its simplicity.
Before I could respond, I felt arms wrap around my shoulders from behind, the touch sudden and uninvited.
The hands were soft, their skin cool and smooth, resting lightly on my chest.
I froze, my grip tightening on the glass in my hand.
As I turned my head slightly, a figure leaned forward, her head coming into view.
She had striking black hair tied into two elegant ponytails at the sides, framing a delicate face.
Her glasses, perched perfectly on her nose, only accentuated her sharp, captivating red eyes.
Her lashes were long, framing those eyes like dark curtains.
Her lips curved into a playful smile as she tilted her head, eting my gaze.
"Why are you here?"
I said, keeping my voice calm, disinterested, and every bit as arrogant as expected of .
"Shouldn't you be with the other first years?"
A soft, lodious laugh followed, warm yet sharp, as if teasing the very notion.
"I didn't want to be with the kids," she said, resting her chin lightly on my shoulder.
"And besides, I wanted to see my lovely dove."
So, she had co to the academy.
I shifted slightly in my seat, careful to keep my expression neutral.
This girl—was no re acquaintance.
I turned my gaze just enough to catch her face, frad by her striking black hair, the ends curling delicately like ink bleeding into water.
Her crimson eyes sparkled, like twin rubies alight with mischief.
I hardly needed a reminder.
She was etched in both my fragnted mories and the novel's storyline.
A quick use of my skill, [Character Catalogue], confird what I already knew.
---
[Character Catalogue]
Iris Von Star
Age: 18
Importance: Major character in the storyline.
---
The details filled my mind in a cascade, as if reciting the prose of her description.
She was a duaghter of House Star, the second most prestigious family in the empire.
Second only to the Ashbournes and a childhood friend of Noah.
Her poise, her grace, her confidence—all of it reflected the imnse power and influence she wielded.
Despite her noble upbringing, she bore no cruelty.
She was a paradox, sweet and kind.
More importantly, she was obsessed with —Noah Ashbourne.
Or rather, the man she believed to be.
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