Royal Knights Academy - Western Garden

After Classes

A marble pavilion sat in silence, overlooking the immaculately cared-for flowers of the western garden. Elevated ever-so-slightly on the field, the structure’s marble pillars did little to hide the amazing view it created.

It had become a chosen gathering point of a small group of students. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Inside, three students sat around a circular stone table, their white uniforms catching the sunlight elegantly. Beyond the steps of the pavilion, three personal servants of these students stood like stone statues, their gazes fixed forward, creating a wall between them and the rest of the rabble.

Steps began to echo outside of the pavilion, and eventually, they made their way in.

Ravilenna had marched up the path, her butler trailing a few paces behind. Her face was narrowed, a scowl barely hidden by her open, feathery fan. The moment she made it inside the pavilion, she snapped her fan shut and threw herself onto the open seat and crossed her arms, gritting her teeth.

“Arriving alone, Ravi? I take it our invitation wasn’t well received?” Markus asked.

As the son of a rising Count family, he possessed a relaxed confidence in his tone. Confident that his life was set for greatness, he had lived his life in the academy with a rather leisurely gait.

“Tch, she is impossible!” she hissed. “I approached her with the utmost sincerity. I was nothing but gracious! Yet she looked at me like some rabble looking for spare coins.”

“Careful, Ravi,” Alishia murmured, her fingers tracing the delicate gold rim of her porcelain cup. “Your face is scrunching. You’ll get lines.”

Despite being the seventh daughter of a Viscount, Alishia was already positioned to marry into a Count’s lineage; thus, she had trained to carry herself with certain elegance and confidence, enough to make her speak lightly even in front of Ravilenna.

Ravilenna let out a frustrated hum, ignoring the jab.

“So,” Markus leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Any ideas on why she rejected us?”

Alishia let out a long, theatrical scoff. “Really, Markus, what did you expect?” She set her cup down with a deliberate, sharp clink. “She parades around with that bodyguard as if he’s a prize stallion. She has to be doing so deliberately to provoke us.”

Markus tilted his head. “I think that’s quite the far reach… Though I do have to wonder if the rumor we heard held any weight.”

“Oh, please,” Alishia waved a hand. “If any of that were true, she wouldn’t have refused us.”

“Not necessarily,” a calm voice cut through the chatter.

Eyes and heads turned simultaneously to the voice, belonging to the young man sitting on the far end of the table. The voice belonged to Nicholas, the sole heir to a Countess, and the figurehead of this small but exclusive group.

“I believe you’re mistaking restraint for disinterest. Just because she rejected us doesn't mean the whispers about her are unfounded.”

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“What do you mean, Sir Nicholas?” Ravilenna asked, her anger momentarily replaced by a wary curiosity.

He chuckled slightly before continuing. “You must remember, Lady Carine is an heir to a Duchy. She sits on a pedestal we can barely see the top of. She has no obligation to entertain us, and frankly, Ravilenna, approaching her so soon was… rather tactless.”

Ravilenna flinched as if slapped, her fan twitching in her lap. “I—I merely took the initiative! I thought it best to ask her whilst the story is fresh in everyone’s mind.”

Nicholas chuckled lightly as he took a sip, then placed his cup silently. “However, I can at least assure all of you that her refusal was not born from disinterest.”

The table fell silent. Even the birds in the garden seemed to quiet down as the others leaned in.

“She is rarely seen in the company of commoners, isn’t she?” he continued evenly. “Look at the way she walks the halls. She has her own attendant who clears the halls for her, I hear. And in fact, aside from that boy, she keeps a rather deliberate distance from the others. That is not the behavior of a girl who would provoke us.”

“Then why him?” Alishia asked, her brow furrowing. “Why grant such an exception to a common stray?”

“I’m saying he’s likely more of a tool than a companion in her eyes,” Nicholas corrected. “One she cannot afford to get rid of, but a tool nonetheless.”

“A tool?” Markus parroted.

Nicholas folded his hands atop the table, the picture of calm. “A Duchess does not tolerate a stain on her dress for the sake of a mere guard. If she keeps him within arm’s reach, it is because he serves a function significant enough to warrant the cost.”

“Then it’s a massive cost to pay,” Ravilenna countered, snapping her fan open with a sharp clack. “I wouldn't dream of snubbing the Third Prince just to dance with a peasant. It's social suicide.”

“Precisely,” Alishia added, leaning in. “What could that commoner possibly offer? Surely one of us could provide whatever… 'service' he has, and with far more grace and tact too.”

“Perhaps,” Nicholas murmured, a small, sharp smile tugging at his lips. “But perhaps his value lies in his lack of status; he is uniquely compatible with her Talent, or perhaps, he is simply the only one with a back sturdy enough to endure her particular brand of... discipline.”

“So the rumors of her temper aren’t just gossip?” Markus muttered, one eyebrow raised.

“A tool is only as valuable as its performance,” Nicholas continued. “During their combat class, the outcome was a conclusive failure, was it not? After their spectacular showing at the entrance exam, I believe Lady Carine finds the defeat intolerable. Why did they lose? How did they lose? Surely the answer lies somewhere…”

“Hence her discipline… I see…” Alishia whispered, a hand raised to her chin.

“If anything, this gives us an absolutely golden opportunity,” Nicholas continued, leaning forward. “She is clearly burdened by his inadequacy, but she cannot simply discard a retainer without cause. But what if we were to provide her with that cause?”

The pavilion went silent once more. Gears began turning in their heads, processing what Nicholas was suggesting. Then, almost simultaneously, their eyes narrowed, and their lips turned into faint smirks.

“I see where you’re going with this,” Markus said. “So, what’s the plan?”

“We shall invite her once more to our pavilion for a nice chat. We’ll offer her something she can’t refuse to capture her attention.” Nicholas turned to Alishia. “Alishia, you will assist me in hosting. We must be the very image of hospitality, so be sure to bring your best servants and tea.”

Alishia gave a slow, graceful nod. “Of course. I shall bring sweets fit for a queen.”

Nicholas then turned his gaze to Ravilenna and Markus. “Ravi, Markus, you will be in charge of the main play in this stage. I will provide the specific details tonight. This isn't a conversation for the open air, even in a garden as private as this.”

“Of course,” Ravilenna said, her fan snapping shut sharply. “I shall await your summons in my quarters, then.”

“And I’ll be at dinner,” Markus added, a lazy, expectant smirk playing on his lips. “Consider us ready.”

“Wonderful,” Nicholas said with a bright smile.

Nicholas rose from his seat, the other three following suit like his shadow. At the base of the pavilion steps, the servants pivoted to clear a path for them.

The four students departed, drifting toward their separate lives in the academy. Yet, despite the distance growing between them, they remained bound by a singular goal.

To free Lady Carine of her burden.