Chapter 8: A Shielding Arm and a Prince’s Concern.

“Of course I’m your friend too—so please call me Julius. Now then, it’s almost closing time. I’ll walk you back to the dormitory.”

Julius said so and stood up.
Sarju rose to follow.

“No, it’s right nearby, so…”

Still unable to fully process the situation, Amelia hurriedly tried to decline.

In this kingdom, the royal family was absolute.
Having two royals—who required guards even within the academy—personally escort her felt far too presumptuous.

“No, no—we’re heading back to the palace ourselves anyway. If we say ‘let’s walk partway together,’ doesn’t that sound like something friends would do?”

When Julius put it that way, and Sarju gently urged her forward, she could no longer refuse.

Fortunately, it was so close to closing time that few students remained in the academy grounds.
They escorted her all the way to the dormitory entrance.
Then Julius’s guards prepared a carriage, and the two princes departed for the palace.

Amelia watched the carriage until it vanished from sight before entering the girls’ dormitory.

When she reached her room, the door to the neighboring room slammed shut with a loud clatter.
The unnaturally forceful sound brought back the memory of Erika—once her friend—turning pale and fleeing from her.

Yet compared to the fact that she had collided with Sarju and injured him, that he had still carried her to the infirmary in his arms, that Julius had used healing magic on her, and—above all—that both princes had declared her their friend…
Erika’s behavior now seemed trivial.

Even if she tried speaking to her again, Erika would probably just run away once more.
Or worse—she might make an openly disgusted face.

If reaching out would only hurt her again, it might be better to stay alone from the start.

If Reese truly had no desire to see her, then there was no need to meet him anymore either.

She could manage without mingling with her classmates.
She would gather information herself and confirm anything important directly with the teachers.

“I’ll do my best alone for the next three years.”

She had meant to say it resolutely.
Yet tears spilled over anyway, tracing wet lines down her cheeks.

Just a short while ago, she had looked forward so eagerly to attending the academy.
She had waited with anticipation for the day she would reunite with Reese.

She never imagined things would turn out like this.

But now she lacked the energy to track down the reason she was being shunned, or the will to confront Reese about it.
If she could simply learn magic that would benefit her territory’s development over these three years, that would be enough.

As that thought settled in her chest, the image of Sarju rose in her mind.

The way he had escorted her at the party.
How he had lifted and carried her despite his own injury.
And how—when everyone else despised her—he had called her his friend.

She knew full well that someone as lowly as a provincial noble could never truly act as a friend to a member of the royal family.
She understood that much.

Even so, the fact that he had said those words would surely become the emotional support that carried her through three years of loneliness.

The next day.

Amelia ignored every stare directed her way, every whispered word from her classmates, and moved through the academy alone.

She focused intently during lessons and spent every break at her desk, studying without stirring.

Still, there were times she had no choice but to move.

(I have to eat lunch in the cafeteria, at least.)

For a noble lady, eating in the classroom or out in the garden would be far too improper.

As she walked there alone, several passing female students glanced her way and giggled behind their hands.

In this academy, students carried their own trays.
The girls were holding theirs now, presumably on their way to sit down and eat.
She caught fragments—“How pathetic, all alone,” “Serves her right”—but she ignored them completely.

Being mocked by people whose faces she didn’t even know—whether upperclassmen or fellow first-years—no longer fazed her.

“Oh my, how clumsy of me.”

Perhaps irritated by her complete lack of reaction,
one of the young ladies directly in front of her deliberately let a steaming cup of hot tea slip from her fingers—straight toward Amelia.

“!”

Amelia reflexively squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the scalding liquid.

Yet no matter how long she waited, the expected burn never came.
Instead, a strong arm wrapped around her protectively.

“Amelia—are you all right?”

“Ah…”

The shielding arm quickly withdrew—likely out of consideration for the public setting and the fact that she had a fiancé.

But Amelia clung instinctively to that arm which had shielded her so suddenly.

“Sarju-sama! Why are you—?”

The tea that should have drenched Amelia had instead splashed across the arm that protected her.
Unlike ordinary students’ uniforms, royal uniforms were enchanted with protective magic strong enough to repel even blades.
Normally, something as trivial as hot tea would cause no harm at all—the fabric wouldn’t even get wet.
Yet the forcefully flung liquid had still reached the back of Sarju’s hand.
The white skin there had turned angry red.

Amelia paled instantly, thrown into panic.

“What should I do… What can I…?”

She could use water-attribute magic herself, but her specialties were all practical spells for farm work—she had no confidence in healing magic.
More importantly, no one but the chosen few was permitted to cast magic on royalty.

“Julius-sama…”

He would heal it immediately.

On the verge of tears, she looked around—and whether someone had called him or he had heard the commotion, Julius arrived with his guards in tow.

“What is the meaning of this disturbance?”

Gone was yesterday’s easygoing warmth; his voice was now stern and commanding.
Everyone except Sarju immediately bowed their heads.

Julius’s gaze grew even sharper as he took in the shattered cup, the tearful Amelia, and Sarju’s reddened hand.

“It seems your guard detail needs reevaluation.”

After scanning the surroundings and confirming Sarju was alone, he sighed and cast healing magic.

Once Sarju’s hand returned to normal, Amelia—overcome with relief—sank weakly to the floor right there.

“Now then. I’d like to hear the full details. You three—and Amelia. Sarju, come to the student council room as well.”

At Julius’s words, the young lady who had thrown the tea and her two friends turned deathly pale.

“I-I only—”

“We had nothing to do with it! It was all Mira—”

“How could you say that?!”

As they began arguing among themselves, Julius’s guards stepped forward to block them.

While the three were being escorted away to the student council room, a hand appeared in front of Amelia.

“Amelia—can you stand?”

Sarju was looking down at her with deep concern.