Chapter 6: The Prince’s Unexpected Support.

Classes were divided according to entrance exam rankings.

Amelia, who had always eagerly studied magic because she wanted to help with the family business back home, had achieved excellent results and was placed in Class A—the class reserved for top performers.

Unfortunately, her friend Erika had been assigned to Class B.

Moreover, Class A consisted almost entirely of high-ranking nobles who resided in the royal capital.
Amelia, the only student from the provinces, stood out painfully as an outsider.

No matter how much this academy might be a microcosm of noble society, it was still officially a school.
As long as she focused on her studies, she thought, being isolated would cause no real harm.

Or so she believed—until just a few days after academy life began, Amelia realized she was not merely “standing out.”

Important announcements… such as sudden changes to class schedules or deadlines for mandatory assignments… were never passed on to her.

When she tried to ask questions out of necessity, no one would answer.

Was it because she was a provincial noble?
Or was there something wrong with her personally?

Without knowing the reason, the sense of alienation grew stronger with each passing day.

Then one day, when she spotted Erika in the hallway and tried to call out to her—
Erika’s face changed the instant she saw Amelia.
She turned pale and fled as if running away.

(How could this be…)

Even her friend had avoided her.
Unable to understand why, Amelia felt utterly isolated.
Tears welled up uncontrollably.
She desperately held them back and ran out of the school building.

She knew it was unbecoming behavior for a noble lady.
But she absolutely could not bear to cry in front of people who seemed to be laughing at her.

Yet holding back the tears took all her concentration.
She had been careless and failed to look properly ahead.
As she rounded the corner of the building, she collided full-force into someone standing there.

“!”

The person she crashed into seemed to try to catch her.
But Amelia had been running at full speed, and the momentum from turning the corner added centrifugal force.
He couldn’t withstand the impact, and both of them tumbled to the ground.

“Ugh…”

A sharp pain shot through her ankle.

But more urgent than her own pain was apologizing to the person she had dragged down with her.
Amelia lifted her face to speak.

“Ah, I’m so sorr—”

Before she could finish, a strong hand seized her arm from behind and pinned her forcefully to the ground.

“…Ow!”

The powerful grip unmistakably belonged to a man.
A male student was holding Amelia down against the dirt.

“Roy. Let her go.”

A familiar voice rang out.
The arm restraining her loosened.

When Amelia looked up, the person she had knocked over was being helped to his feet by another male student standing nearby.

“I’m sorry. I meant to catch you, but I let you fall. Are you hurt?”

“…Prince Sarju.”

Realizing that the person she had violently knocked down—and even pinned beneath her—was none other than the kingdom’s Fourth Prince Sarju, Amelia forgot the pain in her foot.
She hurriedly knelt on the spot.

“I-I am terribly sorry!”

It was only natural that his guard would restrain her after she had collided with royalty and caused him to fall.

“Ah, it’s you. It seems we’re quite fated to meet, aren’t we?”

Yet Prince Sarju showed no sign of anger.
On the contrary, upon recognizing her, he smiled with what looked like genuine pleasure.

He started to extend a hand to help Amelia—who was still sitting on the ground—but then winced, his face twisting.

“…!”

He was clutching his right wrist.
Perhaps he had injured it when they fell.

Amelia paled.
If her carelessness had caused a member of the royal family to be injured, she would surely be punished for lèse-majesté.

One of the male students beside him—likely an aide—hurriedly took hold of his hand.

“Your Highness, does it hurt badly?”

“No, just a slight sprain. It’s nothing serious. More importantly—”

Prince Sarju shifted his gaze to Amelia, who remained seated on the ground, face ashen.

“Please help her stand.”

“…”

The student called Roy—who had been pinning Amelia down—and the one beside the prince exchanged glances.

Neither seemed inclined to offer her a hand.

The tears she had nearly forgotten welled up again.

Ever since coming to the royal capital, it had been like this.
She knew no one here.
She had done nothing wrong.
Yet for some reason she was hated so thoroughly.

She had wondered if she herself was at fault, but without knowing why, there was nothing she could do.

Even so, she could not bear to show any more disgraceful behavior.
Amelia tried to stand on her own.

“…Ah!”

But the sprained ankle throbbed fiercely.
She couldn’t get up and nearly collapsed again.

“Careful!”

It was Prince Sarju who caught her.

In his haste, he had instinctively reached out with his dominant—right—hand.
The movement must have put strain on his injured wrist; he stifled a pained sound.

“Prince Sarju. I’m so sorry.”

She tried to pull away hurriedly, but he wrapped an arm around her back, restraining her movement.

“Don’t move. It seems you’ve twisted your ankle. I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

He lifted her into his arms.
Amelia caught her breath.

She was small in stature, but carrying her with an injured hand would surely be a burden.

“Your Highness—your injury—”

She tried to protest, but Prince Sarju carried her steadily back toward the academy buildings.