Rhea Calven stared at the ceiling and wondered to herself: When was the last time I felt this happy?
It wasn't because of the endless support from the demonstrators outside.
Honestly, they were just noisy.
She didn't even understand why people were chanting her name, turning her into the center of some strange social protest.
What was there to protest, anyway?
Still, because of them, the dorm corridors were quieter. The staff were busier. Security was thinner.
And that made it easier for Rhea to sneak in and see her.
No need to knock. No need to ask the dorm guards for a key.
Rhea knew the girl who lived there wouldn't bother locking her door. No one ever came in. No one would dare.
So, with a playful step, Rhea smiled and pushed the door open. "Hey, I'm here~"
The girl inside was just as she had been the last time they met—bitter, cynical, and thoroughly fed up.
"So, how've you been… Thea?" Rhea walked in before Althea could say a word.
"You've stirred up trouble again." Althea was still seated on the bed, arms folded tightly across her chest.
"I only did what had to be done." Rhea shrugged, hand on hip, flashing a proud grin. "Unless… you've actually come to like that one?"
"What?"
Rhea giggled. "Right, of course. There's no way my Althea would get caught up in something so pointless."
"Stop acting like you know what I want!"
"What you really want, huh… Isn't it just to stay in the academy as long as you can?" Rhea sat beside her and gave her shoulder a pat. "Thea, your family's using dirty tricks to get rid of you. All we're doing is returning the favor."
"I never agreed to fight dirty."
"So what, then? You're going to study hard, take the tests fairly, only to have your grades manipulated again?"
"I'm not that stupid."
"Exactly! You're not that stupid. So let them send in a few more puppets until the semester ends. Monthly evaluations can be tampered with, but no one can touch the semester results—at least not without drawing suspicion—"
"Hey!" Althea snapped, grabbing Rhea's wrist harshly, her voice cutting sharp. "I told you—stop pretending you know me!"
Rhea flinched, swallowed hard, then gave an awkward smile while scratching her neck. "S-sorry, I went too far. I was just trying to cheer you up—"
"Well, I don't need cheering up." Althea shoved her hand away. "Ianosa, Arkwright, I don't care if they get fired and live miserable lives after this. But I can't stand people trying to pity me."
Rhea's eyes widened, and she quickly stood up. "I-I'm not trying to pity you, I just wanted to hel—"
"That's the same damn thing, you idiot." Althea stood, yelling now. Yelling at her. "I don't need your help, or your presence. So…"
She pointed at the door.
"Get out. And don't show your face to me again.
"… you disgust me."
#
She wasn't really angry, of course.
This was just a phase. Althea was never the warmest person to begin with.
She'd realize soon enough that Rhea had, once again, saved her. And she'd forgive her.
After all, everything Rhea did was for Althea. For her dream. So she could rise above everyone else.
"Oh?"
Hm? Rhea blinked—and found herself face-to-face with Lucien Arkwright.
This wasn't the girls' dorm anymore. They were behind the classroom building now. A coincidence? Hardly.
No one would suspect it had all been planned from the beginning. Just like before.
"Skipping class again? What did we talk about regarding attendance yesterday?" His tone was more of a lazy scold than real concern.
Like a teacher lightly chastising a student.
As if nothing had happened the day before.
As if the angry voices in the courtyard were nothing more than a breeze.
"There were only ten students in class. Most of them left after trying to spit in my face," Lucien said as he took a seat next to Rhea—keeping some distance, of course. It made her grin inwardly.
He was just trying to look composed. But in truth, it was all the same.
"You've got quite the fan club, Ms. Calven—"
"Professor, what will you do after you're fired?"
Lucien popped open a can of coffee and glanced at her, looking barely interested. "I have no intention of being fired."
That made Rhea chuckle. "Oh?"
"If you're asking hypothetically, then fine: maybe I'd make sure I disappear off the royal family's radar first." He noticed her curious stare and continued. "Then, once I'm safely hidden, I'd come find you… and strangle you to death. You know, the way Professor Ianosa should have."
"But he didn't."
"Professor Ianosa seemed like a good man."
"And you're not?"
Lucien took a long drink from his coffee. "I prefer pragmatism, Ms. Calven. Of course I hold a grudge—but bottled-up hatred only rots you from the inside. I'd rather not be haunted for the rest of my life."
"So…" Rhea smiled despite herself. "Why not kill me now?"
Lucien glanced at her again and scoffed.
Rhea shrugged. "Wouldn't it be more efficient? You're going to be—"
"Fired sooner or later?" Lucien nodded. "Ideally, yes. But first—killing you now would be reckless. I'd be caught before confirming you were even dead. And second…"
He looked at her directly now.
"…it would be a waste to kill the only person who might actually be useful to work with right now."
Rhea tilted her head. "Work with? Professor, I don't follow."
"Tell me, Ms. Calven…" Lucien locked eyes with her now. "Do you really hate Ms. Crowne?"
Her? Hating Althea? The idea was absurd.
Like asking if a fish could live on land. Like telling an elephant to fly.
To Rhea, Althea was a sun. Harsh, burning—but vital. The thing that made her world spin.
She could never hate her sun. She could never hate her goddess.
"I want her to achieve her dream." The words should've come out as a curse. A bitter resentment toward people who misunderstood what they had.
But instead, they came out soft, wrapped in a tender smile. "I want her to be happy."
"Good." Lucien drained the rest of his coffee and tossed the can perfectly into a nearby bin. "That's more than enough."
He turned fully toward her. "Here's the deal, Ms. Calven: you help me, and I'll make sure Althea doesn't just pass the monthly evaluation—she'll top it."
It was a ridiculous promise. Empty words, really. But ever since they met, Rhea had noticed something strange behind Lucien's eyes.
Eyes that always looked tired—except in moments like this. When they suddenly turned sharp. Focused.
And maybe, just maybe, that was when he was most honest.
Rhea smiled, truly this time, and replied:
"That's…
"…utter bullshit!"