After yesterday’s incident with Elinia, I arrived in class earlier than usual.
She was already there.
Sleepy.
Her head resting on the desk.
Hair disheveled—as if she’d spent the whole night reading, training…
or thinking.
I walked past and took my seat.
The instructor began the lesson:
“Today we’ll examine legends of the Wind Gods. So techniques are based precisely on ancient stories…”
He spoke evenly, calmly.
And the class—as always—whispered.
I caught several conversations out of the corner of my ear.
About Elven Goods
“Astra, that amulet of yours… it’s elven, right?” soone whispered.
Astra nodded.
“Yes. Their goods are high quality. And their dicine is strong. My mother and I bought ointnts from them—work better than ours.”
Edgar added:
“And their forges… I heard so of ours lowered prices because of them. Their tools are good.”
Finn muttered darkly:
“They’re growing too fast. The kingdom suffers because of it.”
About Elven Swordsmanship
Among the swordsn, sothing like a debate broke out:
“They also say elven fencing is the best.”
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“I want to visit their city, but it’s hidden.”
“No one knows where it is.”
Noah laughed quietly:
“Hidden? That’s putting it mildly.
They use high-level illusion magic. I saw their shop… at night it vanished.
I couldn’t ‘unsee’ it, no matter how hard I tried.”
His eyes grew distant—like he was rembering sothing personal.
Elinia
Only the princess sat calmly, seemingly uninterested in all of it.
But when she noticed that I was listening, she raised an eyebrow.
And I instantly looked away, pretending to focus on the teacher.
Even though we both knew—I was still listening.
20. After Class — A Serious Talk
When the lesson ended and the classroom emptied, I approached Elinia.
Calmly.
Seriously.
Ready, at last, to talk about what she’d stolen.
But the mont I opened my mouth—she cut
off.
She jumped up so abruptly it looked like she was about to attack.
“Zen!” she said loudly, unexpectedly cheerful.
“What a… nice book.”
I blinked.
“What book?”
“You know which one.
From the format, it’s obvious you’re writing for children.
So—you’ve decided to beco a teacher?”
I froze.
And in that mont…
I forgot what I’d wanted to say.
Then I rembered.
“Elinia.
Yesterday you took my notes.
The orb.
And the diagrams.
Without asking.”
My voice was calm—but firm.
She lowered her eyes for a second.
Her lips trembled.
Then she handed everything back to .
“Here…”
“Grump,” she added quietly, almost hurt.
I sighed.
Took my things.
She left quickly.
Too quickly.
21. Evening — The Magic of Drawing
I returned to my room and decided to continue the biology textbook.
This ti—with a new technique.
I closed my eyes.
Ford a precise image of the heart in my mind—its shape, layers, curves.
And gently “pressed” the image onto the page using projection magic.
A neat diagram appeared on the paper.
Much better than anything I’d drawn by hand.
“That’s better,” I told myself.
Next—the brain.
The liver.
The circulatory system.
The work pulled
in.
It was quiet.
And then—
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
I exhaled.
“Who is it?”
“It’s… ,” ca a muted voice.
I opened the door.
Elinia stood there, staring at the floor.
Uncertain.
Embarrassed.
“I… uh…
I’m sorry,” she forced out. “For… everything. Probably.”
She lifted her eyes.
“Can I co in?”
I barely had ti to think:
“So… I finally won.”
When suddenly—
She slipped past
and—
lunged for my notes again.
I covered my face with my hand.
“…No. There was no victory.”
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