This story takes pce at the same time our dear Kathryn was getting herself into trouble, trapped in an uncomfortable situation caused by certain noble dies who held a grudge against her.Meanwhile, elsewhere, two people were left behind.

  Inside one of the Academy’s private dressing rooms, the sharp yet syrupy voice of a young girl echoed softly, humming without a care in the world. It was a sweet, almost childish voice, belonging to a peculiar beauty who seemed to live in a world of her own.

  “It’s a good thing Lord Kaelvarion left, don’t you think, my dear Elion?” she said with a giggle. “Now we can enjoy our time together~”

  It was Clementine von Marinette.

  Her beauty was unquestionable —delicate and almost ethereal— though she always hid much of her face behind an excessively long fringe, as if afraid of showing too much of herself. Even so, there was something about her that drew the eye, a fragility carefully wrapped in ce and soft hues.

  Inside the dressing room, Clementine adjusted the final details of the outfit she had prepared with such care. Every ribbon, every fold, had a clear purpose: she wanted to show it to the only person who truly mattered to her. Her only friend. The person she loved the most.

  “…Elion, are you listening to me?” she asked after a few seconds of silence, receiving no answer.

  “Yep. I’m here,” he replied in a distracted tone. “I was just… wondering what might’ve happened to Kaelvarion.”

  Elion was sitting off to the side, leaning against the wall, his eyes half-closed.

  “He was keeping me company so I wouldn’t get bored…”

  He didn’t say that part out loud. He kept it to himself.

  Then, with a light, almost theatrical motion, the dressing room door opened as if releasing what had been hidden inside.

  “So… do I look cute, Elion?”

  “Yes, yes, yes. Very cute.”

  The answer was automatic, completely devoid of emotion.

  Clementine puffed out her cheeks at once, emphasizing her soft, round face. Her fingers clenched tightly around the fabric of her dress.

  She couldn’t stand the idea of Elion not paying attention to her.

  Elion sighed, tired. He already knew what was coming.

  “Elion, pay attention to me!”

  The young man, idolized by the dies of the Academy, worshiped by many, seriously considered going out to look for Kaelvarion, just to escape the tantrum that was about to unfold.

  He cared deeply about Clementine. Truly. To him, she was like a little sister. It was even for her sake that he had worked so hard to master his magic.

  But somewhere along the way, Clementine got things mixed up.

  The thin line between friendship and love had completely blurred in her mind.

  Love. What an… boring thing.

  That was what Elion von Lysandre thought.

  He had never been able to understand that feeling. He didn’t know when he had stopped feeling excitement over such things, nor when his heart had become so ft.

  It was a mystery even to himself.

  The only thing he knew for certain was that he wasn’t a worthy person. Nor a decent one. And precisely because of that, he couldn’t and wouldn’t accept the feelings Clementine held for him.

  That silent rejection was what shaped their strange retionship.

  Clementine isoted herself from everyone else, closing her world around Elion, throwing fits whenever something threatened to take him away. A clear example of this was the first time she met the Nen, Kathryn von Adelheid.

  Though, to be fair, that time Clementine did have a good reason to be angry.

  After a certain unpleasant incident —one Elion preferred to keep buried in the deepest, most tightly sealed chest of his mind— Clementine completely shut herself off from the world. From then on, the only thing that mattered to her was what he thought.

  Elion had tried to correct that behavior. More than once. Before her personality twisted so badly.

  But he failed.

  Maybe he could have succeeded if he had tried harder. If he had been firmer. More honest.

  But the truth was that, by then, he had already grown zy.

  And for that very reason, he didn’t move.

  Between running away or simply accepting his fate while thinking about anything else, he chose the tter.

  As for Clementine, she was genuinely happy. Spending time with her unrequited love was enough for her.

  What kind of outfit would make his heart flutter?

  She wondered as she held a ce dress up to the mirror, comparing its color to her skin tone, tilting her head with a shy smile.

  That was their strange retionship.

  That of a maiden in love and a zy idol.

  Ouro