Chapter 7: Cedric’s Entrance Ceremony.

A year has passed since I married Cedric.

It felt long yet went by in a flash.
The time spent eating, studying, and walking side by side with him has quietly built a foundation within me.

—So, my ruin route should be gone… probably.

If the original story’s force exists, I can’t let my guard down.

Don’t touch the ledgers, don’t go out partying at night.
Following these rules should keep me off the ruin route.

For the rest, just get along with Cedric, sincerely.

And today.
Cedric, now sixteen, starts at the Magic Academy. It’s his entrance ceremony.

I waited in the entrance hall.

Light footsteps descended the stairs.
He appeared in a navy coat with silver embroidery and a white collar.

The school crest gleamed sharply on his chest.

His shoulders had broadened this past year, blending youthful slimness with budding reliability.
His hands, peeking from the cuffs, were long, their boniness evident even through gloves.

—Wow, it suits him so well.

The entrance visual of my favorite, seen countless times in the game, now stood before me.

Real-life resolution, so precious.
Before I knew it, I’d circled him completely.

Front, side, back.
Yes, perfect from every angle.

“Amelia?”

His puzzled voice snapped me back, and I stepped away.

“S-Sorry. I attended the academy before… it’s nostalgic. I got carried away.”
“Oh, right.”
“And your uniform looks amazing on you.”

Adding my honest thoughts, his eyes softened.

“Thank you, Amelia.”

This year, we naturally dropped honorifics.
It felt ticklish at first, but now it’s comfortable.

—Though, with divorce in mind, maybe I shouldn’t get too used to it.

There’s a line I should draw.

But I can’t help feeling happy.

“Sorry for the wait. Are you done changing?”
“Yes.”

I descended the stairs, lightly lifting my dress hem and curtsying.
As a family member attending the ceremony, I chose a subdued dress.

Shallow neckline, three-quarter sleeves, embroidered with small flowers.
Hair tied low, secured with a single silver hairpin.

Not flashy, but the fabric shifts with the light.

“You’re beautiful.”

His direct words caught in my throat.

“Thank you, Cedric.”

I kept my reply short, adjusting my glove’s edge.
My heart fluttered, but I hid it.

A carriage waited at the entrance. The coachman opened the door.
Cedric stepped forward, turning to offer his hand.

The gesture was already second nature.

A year ago, it was awkward; now it’s seamless.

“Here, Amelia.”
“Thank you.”

I placed my fingers in his, feeling his palm’s warmth for a moment.
Sitting side by side, the city scenery flowed past the window.

I stole a glance at his profile.

Sixteen. His cheeks still held a trace of youth, but his forehead and eyes carried a deeper shadow of intelligence.

—It’s like the game’s portrait coming to life… truly precious.

“Nervous?”
“A little. …But I’m excited.”
“You’ll be fine.”

The academy’s spires came into view, then the gate.
Ivy clung to the white stone arch, the crest faintly glowing in the morning sun.

The carriage stopped, the door opened.

Cedric stepped down, turning to offer his hand.

“Here, Amelia.”
“Thank you.”

Stepping onto the cobblestones, the air felt clearer.

—This is it, this scene.

If I had a camera from my past life, I’d have taken a hundred photos by now.

Favorite + sacred ground.
The ultimate combo.

As we disembarked, colorful family crests flashed, and children’s voices overlapped.

Most new students came with parents.
Some with siblings.

Cedric had only me.

His parents, the ducal couple, didn’t come. They wouldn’t.
The reality of his neglect stabbed my chest again.

That’s why I’m here.

…But that made me feel a different kind of scrutiny.

From the crowd’s edges, subtle but definite glances turned our way.
A student with a young woman must stand out.

Wife? Sister?

My red hair and his pale gold don’t look familial, plus the age gap.

The lively atmosphere sounded slightly off around us.

“…Maybe I should go back.”
I asked softly.
I didn’t want to stir trouble.

I didn’t want to taint his ceremony.

But Cedric shook his head, as if it were obvious.

“Why?”
“I feel out of place… and we’re drawing odd attention.”
“They’re just captivated by how beautiful you are.”

My heart skipped.
How can he say that so casually now?

My favorite’s growth is dazzling.

“Heh, even flattery makes me happy.”
“It’s not flattery.”

He said firmly, gesturing ahead with his eyes.

“Let’s go, Amelia.”
“Yes, let’s.”

I lightly placed my hand on his arm.
Fingers resting along his elbow.

The way we’ve learned to walk together this year.

He naturally matched my stride up the stone steps.

At the auditorium door, I parted from Cedric, blending into the attendees’ flow to a rear seat.
New students in front, families in back. The arrangement was set.

I chose an end seat.

As expected, eyes are on me…

Among parents and relatives, a young woman alone stands out.
Some might realize I’m a wife or fiancée, but most probably see me as a sister or guardian.

Red hair and pale gold don’t scream family, and there’s the age gap.

It’s not entirely comfortable.

But this is my place too. I straightened my spine inwardly.

An upperclassman with the program appeared on stage, signaling the start.

The double doors slid open, and the first-year students flowed in.

Nearly all the capital and nearby noble families’ children attend here.
Not just five hundred—more, at a glance.
Colorful crests, white collars, faces mixed with nerves and pride.

(Cedric… there!)

I found him instantly.

In the first wave, there he was.
Back straight, chin tucked, steps quietly aligned with the line.

—Beautiful. Radiant.

Even with favorite bias, he’s stunning.

I want a camera. I’d be a nuisance with nonstop photos, but I want one.

As I watched, his gaze pierced mine, as if drawn.

A moment. Just a moment, but our eyes met, and his lips softened.
Ugh, it’s like getting a response from my favorite… unfair.

I gave a tiny nod back.

Behind him, a familiar color slipped into the line.

Silver hair, almost white, catching the light, standing out in the dim auditorium.
Smooth forehead, chiseled features, confident stance.

Prince Leonard Weiss.

A name I saw hundreds of times on game screens, now here in real flesh.
Royal aura is real, I thought, oddly moved.

And just behind him.

Deep purple hair, like a thickened dawn sky.
Not too long or short, neatly trimmed but with a hint of unruliness.
His gaze was direct, yet his eyes held a shadow of darkness.

Noah Ashbell.

—These two, with Cedric, were the same year among the capture targets.

The original heroine appears two years later as a transfer student.

So she’s not here now.
But seeing the capture targets together still stirred my heart.

Nostalgia, a touch of nerves, and irrepressible excitement.

…Caught up in them, I glanced back at Cedric and noticed his brows were slightly sharper than usual.

Not quite displeasure, but not his usual neutral calm.

(Huh? What’s wrong?)

I tilted my head, but the opening bell rang again, pulling my focus to the stage.

The headmaster’s speech… is long.
This world’s principals are no different.

Dignified words, guest speeches, student representative remarks.
Noble sentiments, worth remembering, but the ceremonial air summoned sleepiness.

Every world’s like this, I thought, recalling hard gymnasium chairs from my past life, glancing at the program occasionally.

When the royal name was announced, Leonard stood, and the room buzzed faintly.
His silver hair gleamed brighter.

Noah, meanwhile, stared ahead, expression barely changing.
His stance alone matched the game’s impression.

I watched steadily, burning it into my memory, staying seated until the end.

The roll call finished, the closing bell rang.
Applause spread, and the crowd flowed out.

I stood, waiting for the attendees to thin before exiting the auditorium.

I stepped back into the shadow of the stone steps, stretching once.

Today, my role was to witness his moment.

Now I just wait to meet him.

Soon, familiar pale gold appeared at the crowd’s edge.
Cedric.

“Good job!”

I approached first, and he narrowed his eyes, relieved.

“Thank you, Amelia. You too.”
“It was long, wasn’t it? You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”

He smiled lightly, offering his hand as always.
We descended the auditorium steps, weaving through the crowd to the carriage.

I placed my fingertips on his hand—and caught a flash of silver to the side.

(Oh, Leonard.)

The royal entourage passed through a door, guards in tow, exuding royalty.

My gaze drifted there for a moment—

Cedric’s pace quickened slightly.

I matched his steps to avoid being pulled.
What’s wrong?

His hand wasn’t rough.

Rather, it guided carefully, but fast.
The speed didn’t slow until we reached the carriage.

The door closed, and quiet returned.

Sitting across from him, I saw a faint shadow on his face.

“What’s wrong? Tired from the ceremony?”

When I asked, he paused for a beat, then said lowly,

“…Who were you looking at?”

“Huh?”

A dumb sound escaped me.
He didn’t look away.

“During the ceremony, you were watching someone else, weren’t you?”
“Uh, um.”
“Two people, specifically. You were staring, right?”

I didn’t realize he noticed that much.
I can’t say I was caught up in seeing game capture targets in real life.

I scrambled for an excuse.

“There was Prince Leonard Weiss. I couldn’t help but look.”
“And the other?”

A quick follow-up. Not sharp, but pressing.

“The boy with purple hair. It’s rare, so it caught my eye. You don’t see purple often, right?”

True. Purple is rare in this country.

It ties to Noah Ashbell’s backstory, but that’s not for Cedric now.

He took in my words silently, glancing out the window for a few seconds.

“…I see.”

His voice, returning, held a slight sulky warmth.

W-What’s that? So cute…!
No, I shouldn’t brush it off as cute, but it’s cute.

My heart squeezed.

“You don’t need to worry. You’re my number one, Cedric.”

I said directly.

Looking into his eyes, smiling.
His lashes trembled, his cheeks reddening deeper.

“…Thank you.”

Dropping his gaze, he continued in a shy voice.

“You’re my number one too, Amelia.”

Ugh, those words are dangerous in so many ways.

Any more, and I’ll melt… into what, I don’t know.

I cleared my throat, trying to quell my burning heart.