I kept staring at the floating words in front of me. As one message faded, another replaced it, each containing a new set of information.

  The messages appeared for only a short time, vanishing before the next arrived. I read through each carefully, committing their meaning to memory.

  From what I knew about the Golden Runes, each Runebearer was assigned a Class. Or a unique role, each with distinct skills and traits. Some specialized in weapons like swords or bows, while others focused on magic.

  There was nothing for me to click, so I simply said, “Yes.” A new set of runes appeared, this time neatly arranged in a table.

  Just as the Golden Runes had said, I’d been granted the Brewmaster Class, a role focused on potion-making. The Attributes table blinked, drawing my attention. Curious, I reached toward it. A new window appeared, its contents enclosed in a shimmering box.

  Strength was clearly intended for weapon-based classes, while Intelligence catered to magic. My class seemed Intelligence-based.

  I moved on to the next attributes.

  Both Constitution and Wisdom increased physical and mental resistance. Constitution felt like armor against swords and arrows; Wisdom, however, was like an invisible shield protecting against spells. Constitution also improved stamina, while Wisdom seemed to enhance clarity of thought similar to Intelligence, but more intuitive.

  Dexterity was all about movement speed, reaction time, and spellcasting efficiency.

  The Attribute windows faded, replaced once more by the Awakened Status table. This time, the section for Innate Arts glowed softly.

  Innate Arts were a type of skill, and Essence of the Cask I allowed me to use fermentation to enhance potions over time. The longer they aged, the stronger their effects. I tried activating the skill. A container with two open slots appeared before me, but I didn’t have any potions to place inside yet. Without ingredients, I had no way to test how long fermentation would take or what kind of enhancements it would offer.

  Next, I turned my attention to my Basic and Class Skills.

  The main difference between Basic Skills and Class Skills is that Basic Skills are like innate traits. They were always active. In contrast, Class Skills are momentary tools. I can use them only when needed, and once used, I have to wait. Just like Catalyst Infusion, which has a cooldown of five minutes.

  As the boxes disappeared, a new one appeared, longer this time, as if it came from the Golden Runes itself.

  I let the last two boxes linger in front of me until they dissolved into golden fragments, like fireflies. I felt overwhelmed and, for some reason, empty. Sighing, I drank a full glass of water, then reached for a pen and paper. I wrote the word Brewmaster and circled it.

  It sounded grand for a Class that specialized in potions.

  Everything was new to me, so I decided to include the study of the Golden Runes in my plans. As I stared at my open palms, the conclusion settled in my chest like a weight. This power was foreign, something I didn’t fully understand.

  “But it could change how my life ends.”

  After spending half the day thinking, eating, and devising a plan, I decided to meet with the Academica Advisor. A high-ranking school officer who addressed student concerns. My plan was to request a transfer to a different area of study. It would give me space from the crown prince and a chance to pursue what I truly wanted in this life.

  The Administrative Building stood tall, twice the size of the dormitory, made of glistening white stone and capped with blue roofs. Flowers lined the cobbled path that led to marble stairs. Two guards stood at the archway in dark-blue uniforms embroidered with a white flower, knights of House Hugel.

  The office was on the second floor of the east wing. Few people ever came here, so the hallways were quiet, manned only by a few knights. At the far end of the corridor, I found her office.

  A servant stood outside the door.

  “Greetings, I’m Lady Morgana Goldhain. I’m here to request an audience with the Academica Advisor.”

  “Greetings, my lady. I will inform the Madam of your visit. Please wait here,” he said, gesturing to the nearby sofa.

  I sat, going over what I would say. Soon, the servant returned.

  “My lady, Madam Wyldesage will see you now.”

  He opened the door. The room was grand, with a high ceiling and tall windows draped in maroon tapestries. At the far end was a dais where her desk stood.

  Madam Ophelia Wyldesage looked to be in her early forties, yet her reputation rivaled even the principal of the Royal University. She had built herself from the ground up. Her family’s title of viscount was little more than a memory, their lands long lost.

  She smiled. “Lady Goldhain. What brings you here so suddenly?”

  She stood and motioned toward a set of sofas near the side table.

  “I’m here to make a request,” I said, returning her smile.

  Her brows lifted slightly. “And what might that request be?”

  “Thank you, Madam Wyldesage. I’d like to request a change in my area of study. Instead of pursuing Arts and Politics, I wish to transfer to Potions and Alchemy.”

  Her smile faded.

  “May I ask why?”

  I met her gaze, letting my seriousness show.

  “I Awakened earlier today. My Class is related to Potions and Alchemy, and… I don’t enjoy studying Arts and Politics.”

  She sighed. “I understand your sentiment, Lady Goldhain. When I was your age, I also wanted to pursue a different path. But my father insisted I stay where I was. And I’m glad I listened. Where would I be without him? The area you’re currently in is meant to prepare you for your future role as crown princess of the Lumenreich Empire.”

  “Crown Princess? His Highness and I are merely betrothed,” I said, still smiling.

  Madam Wyldesage cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for getting ahead of myself, Lady Goldhain. What I wanted to say is that Potions and Alchemy are relatively new at this school. We only added it because there's a demand for alchemists and herbologists… but I didn’t expect—”

  She trailed off and shifted in her seat.

  “You didn’t expect what?”

  She sighed, seemingly disappointed. “I didn’t expect that you would want to be a Herbal Witch, or whatever they call those who study herbology.”

  I stared at the desk before us.

  “I find your words offensive, Madam Wyldesage. Mages helped build this empire,” I said, smiling at her.

  “Mages, yes, I have great respect for them. But Herbal Witches? What do they even do? Create medicine for some small village using what they find in the nearby woods?” She scoffed. “It’s not an area of study that a high-ranking noble like you should concern herself with.”

  I exhaled as calmly as I could. I hadn’t expected this from an Academica Advisor, especially not from Ophelia Wyldesage, a respected figure in the field of education. My respect for her evaporated in an instant.

  She was narrow-minded. And to think she was an Academica Advisor… how ironic.

  “Please reconsider, Lady Goldhain. You have a great future ahead of you. Don’t waste it on trivial things.”

  Her words made me flinch. My gaze darted to the table, and an urge to flip it rose within me. What did this woman know of my future? Thirty years from now, I’d be dead, betrayed by the one who claimed to love me.

  I stood. There was no need to drag out this conversation. “I will not reconsider. My decision is final.”

  I placed the letter I had written on the table and turned toward the door.

  “And Madam Ophelia,” I added, “what do you know of my future to say that I have a good one ahead of me?”

  Her brows furrowed at my words. She opened her mouth to reply, but I cut her off.

  “See? You don’t know anything. Even the greatest mages are forbidden from peering into someone’s future.”

  The next day, I continued with my usual classes. I found a detailed schedule on my shelf, allowing me to navigate the day like any normal student.

  After each class ended, I left quickly and hid somewhere else. Sometimes in my dorm, other times in the library, reading about the Golden Runes. Though I refused to admit it, this was my way of avoiding Griffin.

  Three days after my visit to the Academica Advisor, a servant came to my class with a message: Madam Wyldesage requested to meet me after morning classes ended.

  I went there with hope. But it faded the moment she told me my letter had been rejected.

  I had expected this outcome, but I had hoped our family’s reputation might sway them. Part of me believed they would reconsider and eventually approve my request.

  “I demand a reason,” I said, facing her.

  “Your request was sudden. And we, at the Royal University, believe it’s not in our best interest to place you in a program that’s just started.”

  “Are you hearing yourself? Not in your best interest? What about my interest?” I scoffed. But she didn’t respond. “I’ll leave this place and find another school where I can study what I truly want.”

  I glanced at her from head to toe before walking out. For the next five minutes, I wandered aimlessly. I thought about returning to my dorm to sleep, but I knew it wouldn’t calm me. Instead, a poster on a bulletin board caught my eye, a promotion to visit the Glass Garden.

  As I neared the garden, memories flooded my mind. Griffin used to bring me here, especially when we were preparing for a test. But that wouldn’t happen for another year, after the garden had been renovated. For now, few people visited, as the surrounding buildings were still under construction.

  The Glass Garden was built with white stones, its windows, doors, and roofs covered in stained glass. A giant archway served as the entrance, inscribed with runes in the Primalverse also known as the Mother of All Languages. Legend had it that a Great Mage crafted the archway to protect the garden from anyone with ill intent.

  As I approached the entrance, the wind carried the sweet, earthy smell of flowers, reminding me of the naive girl I used to be. The one who dreamed of being the perfect Crown Princess.

  I sat on a stone bench near a marble fountain, the crystal-clear water slowly calming me.

  Now that my request had been rejected, my only option was to write to my father.

  I sighed. I knew it would be difficult to convince him. He was stern and strict, and the position he had secured for me was something he took great pride in.

  But it wouldn’t hurt to try.

  After surveying the garden one last time, I returned to my room to prepare my letter. I started by asking about their well-being before detailing my request to change my area of study. I also told him that I had Awakened, which was part of the reason for my sudden change of heart.

  I put down the pen and found myself staring out the window at the grass field. Tomorrow was the weekend, and the Royal University allowed students to leave for the city on those days. I was sure there was a Letter House nearby that could help me send the letter to Gildenburg.

  The weekend arrived. I had never had much reason to visit the city, except when Griffin invited me. Most of my weekends were spent studying books sent by the Empress.

  I’d just ask a guard for directions to the nearest Letter House. I glanced at the mirror one last time and adjusted my light green dress and wide-brimmed hat. I secured the ribbon around my neck like a choker. I knew well what its true purpose was. Lately, I have been dreaming of my execution. The ribbon was a reminder that everything from the past was behind me, and I still had my head.

  I opened the door but froze at the sight of the Crown Prince leaning against the wall. His sorrowful eyes met mine.

  “Can we talk?” he asked, a slight smile on his lips.

  I calmed myself.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” I turned sharply and walked away.

  “Morgana, what’s happening to you? You’ve been acting distant. Did I wrong you? Tell me.”

  I halted.

  “Nothing. I just don’t want your presence anywhere near me. Have a good day, Your Highness. I hope we never cross paths again.”

  Griffin murmured something, calling my name, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of my shoes clicking against the marble floor.