Let’s Go Together

“That Declaire Foster?”

A student sitting across the table mentioned the name of the headmaster. At that, the other kids sipping their tea nodded along and joined the conversation about knights.

“Out of all the knights, Declaire Foster’s the strongest.”

“Yeah. There’s no one alive right now who can beat the headmaster in swordsmanship.”

“I heard she’s fought in dozens of battles. We’ll probably learn about them later in Kingdom History class, right?”

“Obviously. Especially the tactics she used in the Richard Territory War, they were just… wow.”

Mikhail quietly set his empty teacup down on the table and listened to the others talk. Unlike when the topic was food or tea, he actually seemed interested this time—his upper body, which had been resting against the back of the chair, now leaned slightly toward the table.

“Impressive. Jonathan, you really know everything about knights.”

“Of course! I can’t wait to move up a grade so I can start taking classes in the Faculty of Knights.”

Jonathan started rambling on about how his dream of becoming a knight began when he saw Declaire Foster. His usually plain face would light up whenever he talked about knights.

“I don’t know much about knights, but I still can’t believe I saw that famous sword in person.”

“Oh, the sword at the entrance ceremony? That thing’s actually famous?”

“Declaire Foster’s sword? Super famous! It’s called Teiria. The sapphire embedded in its silver scabbard is so beautiful, two noble houses once went to war over it.”

Mikhail tilted his head slightly at Jonathan’s words—a subtle sign of displeasure. His cold, sharp eyes briefly closed and reopened. And just as Jonathan started going on about Declaire Foster’s sword again—

Mikhail abruptly cut him off.

“The smith who made that sword never crafted another after—”

“Temaría.”

“What?”

“The headmaster’s sword is called Temaría, idiot. Don’t go blabbering when you don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Mikhail practically spat the sword’s name, grinding it out with scorn. A cold smirk curled on the prince’s handsome face. Jonathan, who had just been passionately describing the headmaster’s sword, froze at the ridicule.

He just called someone an idiot over a sword’s name?

And this guy hadn’t been stabbed yet? Being a prince in this kingdom really must mean something.

“…It’s just a sword name. Anyone can mess that up.”

Jonathan mumbled awkwardly. And he was right. This wasn’t a test—he was just chatting with his friends, and getting the name of the Academy headmaster’s sword wrong wasn’t exactly a crime.

But apparently, not when you were in front of the prince.

Adrian’s first project had ended in just a few hours. He didn’t bother trying to patch up the awkward silence that had fallen over the table. After someone had already been called “idiot,” it didn’t seem like stepping in would make things any better.

Hmm—

He sipped his tea slowly, letting the warmth settle in his throat.

Maybe not having friends isn’t such a big deal. He was the prince of a reasonably powerful kingdom, had more than enough looks, and he was probably more confident with a sword than he was with magic. Maybe dragging him along was a mistake after all. Adrian regretted it for a brief moment—just a moment.

Once Mikhail no longer heard the words “knight” or “sword” coming from Jonathan’s mouth, he seemed to consider his job done and fell silent. When Adrian gave him a really? look, Mikhail only returned a sulky glare that said, See? I told you I didn’t want to come.

Just then, someone began walking slowly toward the freshmen’s table. It was a student with long, jet-black hair. Judging by the color of her tie, she appeared to be a second-year.

“Sorry to interrupt your meal.”

She brushed her sleek black hair back and smoothly inserted herself into the conversation. The first-years sitting at the table immediately stiffened in the presence of an upperclassman who had approached without warning. Fortunately, it seemed she was here for Adrian. She placed a hand on the back of his chair and spoke.

“Hans has been whining since this morning, you know.”

“Hey! When did I ever?!”

Hans? When Adrian glanced past the girl, he saw the red-haired guy who had picked a fight with him in the garden earlier. So his name was Hans.

“He said you picked up his homework? Thanks. It might not seem like much, but that sheet had the most important stuff written on it… I was kind of screwed without it.”

“Ah—”

Adrian finally remembered her name.

“Catherine Esteban?”

“Yep.”

Catherine Esteban gave Adrian a bright smile, her beautiful face lighting up as she did. With the strikingly handsome blond boy and the graceful Catherine now standing together by the table, the two looked like a picture-perfect couple. Hans, watching them blankly, seemed to grow more irritated, grumbling under his breath, “Catherine…! Just ask him already!”

“Ah!” Catherine blinked as if snapping back to herself, then recalled why she’d interrupted their meal in the first place.

“Hans actually ran back to the garden to try and find it himself. You could’ve just handed it to him, you know.”

“Oh, my bad. I left it in the locker near the lecture hall this morning. I’ll go grab it now.”

Adrian hadn’t expected to run into Catherine in the dining hall. Her help came completely out of nowhere, but it was just the excuse he needed to get away from this table.

“We’re heading that way for our next class anyway, so I’ll just go with you and pick it up.”

Catherine spoke with a smile. Behind her, Hans muttered complaints under his breath, but he looked ready to follow her to the ends of the continent if she asked. Adrian watched the scene for a moment before rising from his seat at the table.

He had finished eating anyway, so it was a good time to leave the dining hall.

“Then I’ll see you in class this afternoon.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Right. Catch you later.”

Adrian gave a polite goodbye to the classmates still enjoying their dessert at the table. In response, Mikhail also slowly got to his feet.

Huh? Adrian looked at him and said,

“You don’t have to come with me, you know?”

“Who said I was? I’m heading to the dorm.”

Mikhail answered coolly, then walked out of the dining hall ahead of them.

Once the two left the table, the other kids quickly fell back into their lively chatter. Even Jonathan, who had been sulking after what happened with Mikhail, was soon laughing along with the others again. It was that age—when even a falling leaf could send you into a fit of laughter for hours.

***

Hans, Adrian, Mikhail, and Catherine were walking down the corridor together. The lecture building was a little ways from the main building where the dining hall was. The click-clack of student shoes echoed across the marble floors, filling the hallway.

Strangely, there wasn’t a single other student in the wide corridor leading to the front entrance of the main building.

Just then, someone sprinted past the four of them. Wearing the Academy’s uniform, the student was moving at an impressive speed—sprinting like that in those clothes couldn’t be easy.

“Oh! Catherine, hey!”

The boy flashed a bright smile and waved at Catherine as he ran by. Catherine replied,

“Hi. Where are you running off to in such a rush?”

“Headmaster Declaire’s shown up at the sparring grounds!”

“Ooh, looks like it’s time to cash in.”

Catherine’s smile curved into something a bit sly.

“Come on, who’s gonna bet against her? Of course the headmaster’s gonna win!”

The student shouted back like Catherine had said something ridiculous, then added, “I’m heading over!” before dashing down the hall. Catherine watched him for a moment, then turned her gleaming eyes toward the freshmen behind her. She glanced briefly at the tops of their heads and murmured,

“Ah.”

“…You two are still in Basamiel’s peaceful first-week phase, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

Adrian responded with a puzzled look, but Catherine just waved it off like she couldn’t be bothered, shaking her head lightly from side to side as if to say, It’s nothing. Then she pointed in the direction the boy had just sprinted off to.

“Hurry, let’s get there before the sparring match ends!”

“…What about the homework?”

“Homework? Seriously? You think that matters right now?!”

Catherine shouted, eyes sparkling with excitement. There was still plenty of time before afternoon classes began anyway. They had time to spare.

“What’s the point of watching a sparring match…”

Hans grumbled but still followed behind her.

“That’s the problem with the Arts Faculty. No sense of competition.”

Catherine laughed as she threw the jab at her closest friend, her tone playful but edged.

“And watching a bunch of muscleheads swinging swords gets your competitive spirit fired up?”

Hans, clearly used to her teasing by now, shot back confidently without missing a beat.

Mikhail silently walked along behind them.

“Where’s the sparring grounds? Hurry up and show the way!”

“…Don’t talk to Catherine like she’s your servant!”

Hans shouted as he ran beside Catherine, yelling back at Mikhail.

But Mikhail didn’t so much as glance at him. Adrian, with no other choice, followed after the group heading toward the training grounds. He was curious to see the famous Declaire Foster in action—but what he really wanted to see…

Was her sword, Teiria.

…Or was it Temaría? The name was starting to blur again, and now he was even more confused than before.