Chapter 4: Chapter 3

KIA

People are usually easy to predict. A person who does not look you in the face is afraid of you, one who clucks his knuckles is angry with you, and so on.

That's a lot of involuntary information. Anyone who does not receive specific training in covering themselves gives some of it.

Thus, you can understand what that person intends to do. It is a very useful skill, especially in politics. 

After all, politicians have to lie a lot. Our country is doing well! We will win the war soon! Our economy isn’t mishandled! And so on. 

It takes a lot of effort to say all those things with a straight face.

That is why, at least in my country, many “schools of behaviour” have sprung up, some less believable than others.

It is very interesting that they call them in such a way, because their goal is not to improve the behaviour of the person who goes there. 

Almost the opposite.

They try to make sure that all these signs that one shows, whether involuntary or voluntary, are forgotten. 

In this way, you can do whatever they want without fear of being understood in advance.

If you are angry, your face will not show it at all. If you have murderous instincts towards an enemy, you will look like an ally until you kill him. 

Everyone in the highest noble positions has taken atleast one or two classes. 

But this technique has its downsides, such as the fact that it doesn’t always work.

Its success relies on knowledge of your facial expression, but above all self-control.

And not everyone can control themselves well.

So, having learned how to control yourself doesn't mean you can always maintain this invisible barrier that hides your thoughts from the outside world. 

For example, three or four nobles are showing their wrath just right now.

 They’re of course not smashing the wall or anything of the sort, but it can be seen.

And those nobles are very easy to spot, because their eyes move quickly from side to side, as if to distract themselves from their anger until it’s time.

They want to prevent their target from understanding what they are feeling. Very basic skill.

But, as I said, what they want to do is beyond obvious. Maybe they’d be better at hiding their feelings if they weren’t this strong.

What’s their goal?

Make the person who made them feel inferior pay for it.

That’s because, now that the teacher and all the pupils have left, heading for other classes, no one can stop them from doing so.

I mean, there’s just me left in the class, so I could intervene if I wanted.

Having my fair amount of elegance, such a scene does not really fit me, but stunts like these seem to be gaining popularity these days. 

Could it be that the nobles finally realise that no invisible wall separates them from the commoners? 

That they can be overcome by them? Being threatened is always a good reason to hurt someone.

Probably the case. After all, they don’t seem all that talented.

Such a fact, however, cannot be accepted by these hazel-haired kids, who block Aladora in front of the classroom corner.

I might as well intervene, as I said. It would earn me some recognition and a thanks from that little blonde girl. But, to be honest, I don't think it would help anything.

If there's anything I've realised about Aladora, it's that she's not at all what she seems to be. 

I wouldn't be surprised if she defeats them all, even in one move. She has that boss aura, if you know what I mean. Probably rather skilled.

There must be a reason why a powerful man like Lord Domingrad adopted her after all.

She maintains a casual approach as they get closer, and I start to head for the door to the corridor. 

I have no desire to witness this scene.

"Hey, you. What did you think you were doing?"

A threatening voice assaults my ears. It's not directed at me, but it still gives me a certain sense of annoyance.

I feel like I don't want to see what is going to happen, because it won't be as my intuition suggests.

Maybe I'm wrong for thinking she can defend herself and I should turn around and do something. 

This thought invades my head fast.

But for now I avoid dealing with it.

I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation on the first day if that can be prevented. 

In a delicate situation like this, caution is called for.

Besides, do I really owe this young girl anything? Just because she is interesting and has spoken to me before? 

Is that the reason why I should rescue her if she isn’t really all as great as I have portrayed her so far?

I sound just like my mother right now.

"Sigh..."

I sit down on the first desk near the door, now vacated, directed with my gaze towards that little group of nobles. I’ll do something if needed.

The young men are blocking her every exit with their bodies, one next to the other, while gesturing glaring threats at her.

They don't look particularly threatening, if I can be honest. Not to be offensive.

You can see that they would not dare to use violence in public, and you can also see that they are a fairly disunited bunch.

If Aladora is half the person I think she is, then she will have no problem eliminating them all.

Yet, on the contrary, she does absolutely nothing so far. 

She doesn't speak. She doesn't even move. 

Her expression doesn't seem upset at all. Neither scared. Nor angry. What is this?

“You don't speak? What, cat got your tongue?"

They laugh and joke, but can't get a reaction out of the blonde girl who looks at them with an almost blank, apathetic look.

It's starting to scare me too. Did she turn off? Was she a machine all along, fueled by my gracefulness?

"We figured out what you did, so you should be afraid. Princess Kia was writing, so you copied her notes in order to seem better than us."

The nobleman in the centre of the semicircle, named Glaas Hadelson, proposes this totally unbelievable theory.

Only Ala wrote between us two, so how could she have copied? 

Plus, if Glaas was in front of us and could not watch the events as they took place, what led him to make this assumption without proof?

The simple and pure idea that a commoner cannot do better than you?

"You're right."

I hear the answer I least expected. 

Especially since I know I haven't written anything. These are lies.

Maybe I got all my predictions wrong, actually.

Maybe, in the end I only made stupid inferences about this girl, and she really is no one of importance.

Maybe I really need to intervene here.

"And what will you do in the future, next time this happens?" 

Glaas Hadelson asks, showing his superiority by approaching her disproportionately and getting very, very close.

Only now do I notice that his very short and ugly hair and unimpressive eyes are the same colour.

The green glasses make him slightly more menacing. It's hard to explain it—there are few people who look more dangerous with glasses on—but with them he seems to have a certain glint of madness.

Which he doesn't have in reality, by the way. Most nobles are like that. They just pretend to be dangerous.

A real madman is that professor of magic, who would be capable of blowing up a continent to make a point of being great.

"I won't do it again."

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"That's good. You want to be an obedient girl..."

Glaas concludes, smiling. Then, just as he had suddenly got close, he immediately takes a few sudden steps away.

He points at everyone to follow him, which leads to a few surprised faces at first, but nobody dares say anything. 

This retreat is normal. He had no intention of hurting her in first place, I knew that.

So why was I scared?

“Remember what you said.”

And so, after that completely boring quote, he walks back to the door and goes out and takes all his friends with him.

And like that, with the situation suddenly defused, it’s just me and Aladora left in this class.

Soon I’m just thinking, admiring on a chair turned sideways the most exciting spectacle of the day, this conversation, as Aladora just watches.

Before I go, I might as well ask.

"What was that reaction? You could have fought them, couldn’t you?”

"I...? Fight? It wasn’t needed." Comes an immediate reply.

"They left without me having to do anything." She points out. 

She looks at me with the same emotionless face she showed those guys, then smiles for a second.

I can't read her at all. Ala might as well have done all of this to avoid standing out any further, and I would never know.

"If you're a commoner, you won't be able to get what you want easily. You will have to fight in the future."

I receive another smirk in response. After a few seconds she returns, inexplicably, that emotionless face she held up before.

As if the other smiling face was nothing but deception.

And she speaks to me: “Thanks for the advice. But I don't want anything, so I won't need it."

And she doesn't explain himself, but only walks away.

-=-

ALA

I walk out of the room thinking I am being haunted. Not only did I try not to do anything interesting during the lesson, but afterwards I was as boring as possible.

What did I get? Attention, in spite of everything. 

And by attention I mean guys who feel hurt in their hearts, who seem to want to hurt me.

I had a good reaction, though. I liked the way I acted.

I think the me of some time ago would have killed them without a second thought, even if she hadn't really wanted to.

Almost like an instinct, because of the possible threat.

It's humiliating when you think about it. 

They are kids. 

They will grow up to be terrible people, I'm sure, but I won't be the one to kill them.

Domingrad was right in the end. He said I was not a danger to this school and had more faith in me than I had in myself.

In any case, this day was terrible.

Especially since that girl, that princess, is always following me.

She even stopped to watch me today. Super creepy.

Nobles here have a bit of an attitude, especially compared to my city.

In Black City, it doesn’t matter if you were a commoner, a noble or whatever. 

Sure, the more famous people received praise and lived better, but there was room for everyone. 

No one would say the things Princess Kia said.

Especially in the areas below, where most people are, it matters more what name you made for yourself than what surname you got at birth.

I suppose Black City is the only city with such divided but communicating neighbourhoods. 

I wouldn’t even call myself a commoner. Really, here was the first time I heard it.

Supposedly, it’s a matter of culture.

But it crosses my mind how Domingrad, who had never seen Black City, treated me at first. Good people are just easy to spot.

It is clear that, normally, nobles generally stay with nobles though. 

Forgive my lack of habit, along with the lack of tact of whoever sent me to that class.

"Miss Ala." Here was a familiar voice, from one of the inhabitants of Black City who had deep respect for me even when he did not know me.

"Zayen." I nod as I look at him.

There is no point in using any formality.

"I didn't say I knew you back in class because I thought it might bother you."

I look at him. I am walking down the corridor between the orange walls that divide me from the main entrance, and he is leaning against those walls.

His face, while objectively ancient, is still bristly in expression. He has his usual smirk.

"Why?"

"Because they don't know you. Don't you understand?"

Hmm? I look at him a little confused.

"Johefus chose this place because he didn't want anyone to know you."

"How kind."

"Because he thinks people might be afraid of you."

He says these words in his deepest voice, but he doesn't need to be convincing for me to know he's right.

I don't want to be the person I used to be. But I don't necessarily want friends.

It's enough for me to know that I'm capable of having a reaction like the one before.

"I've seen all of what you did." He looks at me with eyes full of understanding.

"That's what it was, a spell. Good use of magic."

"You can still sense it. Doesn’t seem like a spell you’d cast…" He ponders.

"We have different abilities."

We split a couple of sentences, as usual. Strange as it is to say, it was the war that made us almost friends.

The same war that introduced me to terrible people like Johefus and Domingrad.

He smiles again. This time it is the crazy smile, no longer the understanding old man's face you’d receive from your neighbour.

"How long will you be able to hold back?"

"Forever, if I want."

"Even if you don't feel like yourself anymore?”

"Even if I don't feel like myself anymore.”

He shrugs, as if to tell me he couldn't. Yes, I believe it. 

You’re addicted to magic, after all.

"Come have a hot chocolate while I tell you some adventures from my youth?"

"Alright."

That’s definitely much more interesting than my next lesson.

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