Free Web NovelThe early morning sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the corridor, casting a pale golden glow onto the marble floor.
Pavela and Natasha walked side by side on the connecting bridge leading from the Silver Moon Pavilion to the teaching area.
Outside the window was a scene of bustling activity; dozens of workers were busy amidst the ruins, and steam cranes emitted low rumbles as they hoisted new stonework into place.
The archway that had been ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) blasted down to its half-way point had been completely demolished, replaced by a massive scaffold.
It was said that the new school gate would be even more grand than the original, given that the financier was the wealthy Iron Cross club.
To be more precise, it was the forced-to-finance Iron Cross club.
At the emergency meeting, Julian von Weber, acting as the representative while enduring a knee swollen like a steamed bun, had gritted his teeth and signed the check.
The Dawn Brigade was originally supposed to contribute half the funds, but the noble students of the Iron Cross upheld their usual pride.
Let that group of impoverished commoners pay?
Wouldn't that be admitting that we are equals with them?
Thus, the repair costs became a full sponsorship from the Iron Cross.
Pavela found this kind of pride quite interesting.
Using money to maintain face.
Using face to prove nobility.
Using nobility to... continue spending money.
A cycle that repeats, never-ending.
No wonder the Empire's economy was so prosperous.
Natasha walked beside her, her pace much more restrained than it had been on the train yesterday.
She wore the standard academy female uniform: a dark blue short blazer over a white shirt, with a matching knee-length pleated skirt and black stockings on her calves.
The uniform's design was clearly tailored for noble misses, with exquisite cuts and elegant lines; the cuffs and collar were embroidered with the silver academy emblem.
On Natasha, it looked like...
Well, like a wild cat forced into a dress.
Her shoulders were constantly tense, and her strides were too large, causing the hem of her skirt to sway back and forth.
She was clearly unaccustomed to wearing such "cumbersome" clothes; several times she wanted to shove her hands into her pockets, only to find that the uniform skirt lacked such a practical design.
Pavela noticed her stealing glances.
They weren't hostile glances, but rather... a mixture of curiosity and confusion.
"Is there a problem?"
Pavela turned her head, offering a harmless smile.
Natasha's gaze immediately snapped away as if she had been burned.
"No."
Her reply was short and stiff.
But Pavela knew what she was looking at.
The Royal Knights Academy female uniform had a completely different effect on Pavela than it did on Natasha.
The dark blue blazer made her silver hair appear even brighter, like threads of condensed moonlight.
A deep red ribbon was tied at the collar of her white shirt—it was the hair ribbon Eleanor had given her, which Pavela had repurposed as a neck ornament.
The pleated skirt ended exactly two inches above her knees, revealing a portion of her calves clad in black stockings, so slender they made one worry if the wind might break them.
Her stature was already petite, and in this uniform, she looked like an illustration stepped out of some noble girl's compendium.
Well-behaved, exquisite, and harmless.
"You've been staring at me."
Pavela spoke again, her tone carrying a hint of playfulness. "Are you admiring my beauty?"
Natasha's footsteps faltered for a moment.
"...Can't you speak normally?"
"This is speaking normally."
Pavela blinked. "Or would you prefer I use a commanding tone?'Stand up straight, look forward, and do not peek at this Young Lady'?"
"..."
Natasha took a deep breath.
She found it very difficult to get angry at this petite silver-haired girl.
It wasn't that she didn't want to be angry, but every time the other girl said something provocative, she would look at her with an innocent, almost naive gaze, as if she truly didn't understand she'd said anything offensive.
It was a strange feeling.
Like getting angry at a cat that's playing dumb, while the cat just tilts its head at you, its eyes filled with 'What are you talking about, human?'
"I was just wondering..." Natasha finally couldn't help herself. "How on earth were you selected for the General's project?"
"Because I'm very strong."
Pavela's answer was a matter of course.
Natasha nearly choked on her own saliva. freewebnovёl.ƈom
She stopped walking and turned to face Pavela.
Her gaze swept Pavela from top to bottom.
A petite frame.
Slender wrists. ƒrēewebnovel.com
A well-behaved smile.
This child looked like she could be blown over by a gust of wind.
"Very strong?"
Natasha repeated the words as if she'd heard a ridiculous joke.
"You?"
She snorted peevishly and resumed her pace, her boots making dull thuds on the floor. "Don't joke around. Even if you are the... adopted daughter of the Schwartz Family, family background won't save your life in the special project. I've heard General Margaret's project has a very high mortality rate."
She paused, her tone softening slightly with an awkward concern. "If you're just doing this for prestige or for fun, you'd better quit early. That's no place for playing house."
Pavela kept pace with her, that inscrutable faint smile still on her face.
"Are you worried about me?"
"Who's worried about you!"
Natasha retorted immediately as if her tail had been stepped on, her voice involuntarily rising a few notches. "I just don't want to have to change roommates before school even starts; that's a hassle! And... and if you die there, people will say it's because I, the commoner roommate, didn't take care of the noble miss."
"Very sound logic."
Pavela nodded in agreement.
As for that so-called "danger"? To her, it was probably less threatening than Natasha nearly crashing into her last night.
"I'm serious!"
Seeing her nonchalance, Natasha grew anxious. "You don't know how many lunatics are in this academy. I heard that yesterday, a rising star of the Iron Cross was beaten until he knelt and begged for mercy, even his sword was stolen—that was Julian von Weber! Even he ended up like that, and someone like you..."
"Julian?"
Pavela interrupted her, tilting her head slightly, a hint of genuine confusion in her light gray eyes. "Who is that?"
Natasha stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet. She looked at Pavela in disbelief. "Julian! The key recruit the Iron Cross club is cultivating, the one with the very conspicuous blonde hair! It was such a big scene yesterday, and you were there too! How could you not know who he is?"
"Oh..."
Pavela thought back for a moment.
Of the two people she met yesterday, one of them did seem to be a blonde one.
But she really didn't know his name.
"Maybe I've seen him."
Pavela shrugged. "I didn't pay attention. I haven't done much research on men's hair colors."
"...Then you really are hopeless."
Natasha was completely speechless and could only give her a look that said 'good luck, you're on your own.'
The two of them crossed the bridge and entered the main building of the teaching area.
A faint scent of gunpowder still lingered in the hall, a remnant of yesterday's chaotic battle.
A crowd was gathered in front of the bulletin board, checking class assignments and schedules.
"Make way!"
Natasha intended to use her height advantage and sheer force to push a path through the crowd.
She turned back to give Pavela a hand, but found it wasn't necessary at all.
The originally packed crowd actually parted automatically to both sides as Pavela approached.
Those students, whether noble or commoner, displayed a strange consensus upon seeing that flash of silver hair and the deep red neck ornament.
Whispers surged around them like a tide.
"It's her... the one from the Schwartz Family..."
"My god, she looks so small... was it really her yesterday?"
"Shh! Lower your voice! Do you want your neck snapped? Even Julian's sword was..."
"I heard she's the 'blood rose's' sister, as expected of a family of monsters..."
Although Natasha couldn't hear the specifics clearly, the feeling of being the center of attention made her very uncomfortable.
Moreover, why were these usually arrogant types looking at Pavela as if she were some kind of... monstrous beast?
She gave those people a strange look, then glanced at Pavela beside her, who looked innocent as if she were strolling through a garden.
"Did these guys take the wrong medicine today? Don't they usually act like they own the place?"
"Maybe they're reflecting."
Pavela bullshitted casually. "After all, the school gate isn't fixed yet. Looking at those ruins, their consciences must be feeling the sting."
"Conscience?"
Natasha scoffed. "Do nobles even have such a thing?"
Frowning, she finally found the list for the special project at the very top of the bulletin board.
The list was very short, with only a few names.
At the very top, written in gold foil lettering, was: Pavela von Schwartz.
And in the column for the supervising instructor, it clearly read: Major General Margaret von Oppenheimer.
"It really is..."
Natasha muttered, turning to Pavela. "You're actually on the list. And you're even listed first."
"Probably because my name has more strokes?" Pavela said perfunctorily.
"Stop joking." Natasha rolled her eyes. "But since you're really in, I'll give you some advice. Don't think you can just coast under that Major General just because you're a Schwartz. General Margaret... she's a lunatic."
"Oh?"
Pavela arched an eyebrow. "You know her?"
Natasha's eyes flickered, as if she were recalling some unpleasant memory, but she quickly masked it.
"I don't. I've heard things. Everyone says so."
She stiffly changed the subject. "Where's my name... ah, found it."
In the list for the standard Mecha Piloting major, Natasha Petrova's name was at the top of the commoner special recruits.
"Looks like our classes aren't in the same place."
Natasha glanced at the schedule. "I have to go to the third training ground on the west side. You're... hm? The special project's classroom is on the second basement level?"
"Looks like I'm going to the basement to be a rat."
Pavela didn't show any dissatisfaction; instead, she seemed full of anticipation for what was to come. "Well then, see you? Remember to treat me to a late-night snack again tonight; don't try to back out."
"I know! You're so naggy!"
Natasha waved her hand, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked toward the west corridor.
After a few steps, she stopped again, turned back, and looked at Pavela with a complicated expression.
"Hey."
"Hmm?"
"...Be careful."
Natasha looked away, her voice somewhat muffled. "Don't die."
With that, she didn't wait for Pavela's response and walked away quickly, as if fleeing.
Pavela watched her slightly frantic retreating figure, her own expression turning complex.
This wild cat unexpectedly had quite a conscience.
She rubbed her chin, wondering if she had overdone it a bit.
But it wasn't a bad thing.
She withdrew her gaze and turned toward the stairs leading underground.
The light there was dim, with only a few flickering yellow gas lamps, as if it were the entrance to another world.
The surrounding students were all intentionally or unintentionally avoiding that direction, as if some unspeakable horror lurked there.
Since it's a'special project,' it probably won't be a boring theory class, right?
