Free Web Novel...Alright.
Natasha's muffled voice came from behind, laced with a hint of gritted teeth.
Pavela turned around.
Natasha was already wearing a faded grey training uniform, identical to the one she wore on the train.
Her collar was askew, and her buttons were haphazardly fastened, clearly thrown on in a hurry.
A blush still lingered on her face, and her wet hair ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) clung messily to her cheeks, making her look like a bedraggled, ruffled cat caught in the rain.
It's inside out.
Pavela pointed to her collar.
Natasha looked down, her face turning even redder.
It's all your fault!
She tugged at her clothes in exasperation, trying to adjust them, but her hasty movements only made it worse.
I knocked.
Pavela said calmly,
This was a lie; she hadn't knocked.
But Natasha clearly couldn't verify it.
I... I...
Natasha wanted to retort but couldn't find any evidence, so she just huffily continued to struggle with her collar.
Pavela walked into the room, dragging her suitcase, and closed the door.
She went straight to the bed on the right, placed her suitcase beside it, and then took a small mirror from the nightstand drawer.
This was one of the standard items the academy provided to every student.
She then walked over to Natasha.
Don't move.
Eh?
Before she could react, Pavela had already reached out and grabbed her collar.
Natasha's body stiffened instantly, her blue eyes widening even further, as if she might explode at any moment.
But Pavela merely focused on adjusting her collar, her movements gentle and precise.
When her fingers touched the skin on Natasha's neck, she could feel the other's obvious tension.
Relax.
Pavela said softly,
...You're too close to me.
Natasha awkwardly turned her face away, her voice trailing off.
Can you fix it yourself then?
Ugh...
Silence was the answer.
Pavela continued her work, tidying the collar while observing Natasha's expression.
The girl's features were angular, her blue eyes clear and direct, thick eyebrows, a straight nose, and slightly full lips.
It wasn't a delicate look, but rather a resilient beauty with a hint of heroism, like wild grass on the plains.
Her neck had smooth lines, her shoulders were broad, and her collarbones were distinct.
Her wet hair clung to her cheeks, with a few strands still dripping water.
A healthy body.
Pavela evaluated in her mind.
This was the physical condition of someone who had undergone long-term physical training, had sufficient nutritional intake, and had not experienced extreme hunger or abuse.
She had calluses on her hands.
Right on the web of her thumb and knuckles.
Those were marks left by long-term gripping of weapons, likely from friction with wooden sticks or blunt objects.
Boxing?
Or... some other training?
There, done.
Pavela released her grip, stepped back, and handed the small mirror to Natasha.
Natasha took the mirror and checked; her collar was indeed neat.
Her expression was complex; she wanted to say thank you but couldn't bring herself to, though she finally mumbled:
You're welcome.
Pavela walked back to her bed and began unpacking her suitcase.
The room fell silent.
Only the rustling of the curtains in the wind and the faint sounds of Pavela organizing her clothes could be heard.
Natasha stood still, watching Pavela's back, her expression constantly changing.
She had mentally prepared herself; as the top Commoner Scholarship Student, she would most likely be assigned a noble roommate, and that roommate would probably look down on her, or deliberately pick fights, or simply ignore her existence.
She had already prepared how to fight back and how to prove that she was no worse than any noble.
But now...
This girl named Pavela was completely unpredictable.
Not only did she not disdain her, but she also proactively helped her adjust her collar.
And...
And what did she mean by
Natasha's face began to flush again.
That...
She finally couldn't help but speak,
Why what?
Why did you help me?
Because you're my roommate.
Pavela said as a matter of course,
...Oh.
Natasha didn't know what to say. freewebnσvel.cøm
She walked to her bed and sat down, picking up a towel to continue drying her hair, but her movements were clearly distracted.
You...
She hesitated, then asked the question that had been bothering her,
Yes.
Biological sister?
Adopted sister.
Natasha was stunned for a moment, then nodded.
That explained it.
This girl completely lacked the arrogant aura typical of old nobility.
She was more like...
More like something else, cloaked in noble attire.
Then you were...
Natasha asked cautiously,
All sorts of places.
Pavela casually brushed her off,
Oh...
This answer was almost no answer at all.
Natasha tried to discern something from those light grey-blue eyes.
But those eyes were excessively clear, like the surface of a frozen lake on a winter morning, reflecting everything but revealing nothing.
She also found it hard to press further.
After all, she herself had many secrets she couldn't tell.
Pavela stood up and stretched.
Alright, preliminary roommate relations established. Now, do you want to tell me if the hot water switch in the bathroom is on the left or right? Also, what floor is the cafeteria on?
Left.
Natasha also stood up,
Let's go then.
Pavela walked towards the door, looking back at Natasha,
Why should I treat you?
Because you're my roommate, and you almost hit me earlier, and I even helped you adjust your collar.
Pavela said as a matter of course,
...Your logic makes no sense at all.
But you will.
Pavela blinked,
Natasha was momentarily stunned.
She stared at Pavela's face, which was genuinely smiling yet held a hint of cunning, and finally let out a long sigh.
...Just this once.
Yay.
...
Oh, right, Natasha.
Hmm?
Your hair is still dripping.
...
Natasha raised her hand to touch the back of her head; it was indeed still wet.
You should have said so earlier!
I thought you liked this disheveled beauty.
Pavela said without looking back,
You—!
Natasha's exasperated voice came from behind, along with the sound of hurried footsteps running back into the room to get a towel.
Pavela stood in the hallway, her face returning to its expressionless state.
She even felt like sighing.
She had to start actively pretending on her very first night at the academy.
Natasha Petrova.
First place among the Commoner Scholarship Students.
An usar person.
And—
A member of the Fire of Freedom.
