After a moment of quiet joy, Rudy let out a small chuckle and wiped the corners of his eyes.

"I gotta go take a sh—ahem. I'll go freshen up," he corrected smoothly. "Then let's grab some lunch."

With that, he left, leaving Melody and Michael alone in the room.

"Thank you," Michael said, a sincere smile playing on his lips. Having seen how she'd handled Rudy—with unexpected gentleness and tact—he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I didn't do it for you," Melody replied. Still, a complicated look danced behind her sapphire eyes. "Those scars… Rudy must've been a slave before he came here. And not one who was well cared for."

Michael nodded.

"I haven't asked him about it—and I don't plan to. I think we should just move on. Pretend it never happened."

"Mmm, probably for the best," Melody agreed softly.

The two fell into a companionable silence until Michael broke it.

"I thought you didn't like Rudy. You're always pulling faces whenever he talks or acts up."

"I do not pull faces…" she huffed, puffing her cheeks in a pout.

"Sure…"

Letting out an annoyed groan, she adjusted her hair with exaggerated care. "I usually find that kind of behavior distasteful. But… the guy has his own charm," she admitted, somewhat mysteriously.

Just then, a thunderous noise echoed from the bathroom, shaking the walls and their expressions alike.

"Oh yeah. He's charming alright…" Michael muttered, barely holding back a laugh.

Melody's cheeks flushed. "That's not what I meant…" she said quickly. Then, more quietly, "I guess you could say… I have a soft spot for those who've survived slavery."

Michael raised an eyebrow, studying her closely. He didn't pry further, but the comment lingered in his mind. It was revealing—something with deeper roots.

He recalled how the servants were treated at Winterborne Manor. Not just fairly—almost like family. It had always struck him as strange, at least by noble standards.

So why had Brian Winterborne, a man sharp enough to manipulate Michael like a pawn, shown such generosity to his staff? Was it pure kindness? Or was there something more behind it?

There has to be, Michael thought. A man that cunning doesn't do anything without a reason.

Just then, the bathroom door burst open.

"Phew! Do not go in there," Rudy said dramatically, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "Let's get that lunch." He flashed a wide grin and started heading for the door.

"Rudy… did you wash your hands?" Michael asked, almost pleading.

"Oh, right! One moment." He turned on his heel and disappeared back into the bathroom—leaving the two teens staring blankly at the door.

"Such charm…" Michael said dryly.

"He's your responsibility now," Melody announced, matter-of-factly.

Michael blinked. "Wait, what?"

"If he wants even a chance of joining a noble family by graduation, he'll need to learn noble customs—and manners. That's on you."

"I'm not sure I'd call it my responsibility," Michael countered, shooting Melody an annoyed look. "But I was going to do it anyway—since we're friends." A sly grin crept across his face. "Maybe Rudy can be your next personal butler?"

"N-no way!" she shrieked, her reaction sharp and immediate.

Michael burst into laughter, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

"What are you two laughing about?" Rudy asked curiously, stepping out of the bathroom again.

"Oh, I was just suggesting that you could become Melody's personal bu—"

A sudden jet of water slammed into his face mid-sentence, cutting him off with a splutter.

Hovering above Melody's outstretched hand was an orange mana circle, still glowing faintly from the spell.

Rudy howled with laughter, doubling over at the spectacle.

Michael let out an exasperated sigh, but even he couldn't hold back a small smirk. He shot a quick glare toward the blue-haired girl before casting a heat spell to dry his face and soaked uniform.

"Let's head to the hall. It's almost lunchtime," he muttered, strolling past her with mock dignity.

The trio left the violet dorms and made their way down the familiar halls toward the main staircase. Their conversation flowed easily—mostly between the boys—but Melody no longer seemed so aloof. Her walls had lowered, even if just a little, and it felt like she was beginning to integrate into the group.

"I wonder if Braydon's still being punished," Rudy mused, a grin tugging at his lips. "I hope so. That guy really knows how to get under people's skin."

"If you think he's bad, you should've met his father—the big blueberry," Michael said with a shake of his head.

"Blueberry? Why d'you call him that?"

"Well… the man shares the same spherical shape. And since it rhymes with their family name, it just kind of stuck in my mind," Michael replied, scratching the back of his head.

"Hah! That's genius," Rudy laughed, nearly stumbling as he clutched his stomach.

Even Melody cracked a smile, failing to suppress the amused twitch at the corner of her mouth.

The three of them felt closer somehow—bonded by the earlier events. The tension that once lingered had dissolved into something far more comfortable. It was easy to laugh, to speak freely, to exist without pretense.

Perhaps this was one of the many unseen blessings of academy life.

When they reached the great hall, they found it bustling with noise. Apparently, everyone who had skipped breakfast earlier had now descended in full force, flooding the space with chatter and footsteps.

Though it wasn't as crowded as it had been during the welcome feast, the absence of the headmaster meant no one was trying to behave—turning the place into a riot of noise.

Michael, Melody, and Rudy managed to claim seats at one of the long tables and placed their orders. Thanks to their violet emblems, their menu was considerably more extensive than that of most students. That distinction became painfully clear when their meals arrived.

Michael's plate boasted a generous serving of roasted meat, golden mashed potatoes, and buttered greens. He could feel eyes on him from every direction—students seated nearby staring with quiet envy. Many of them had only been served a bowl of soup and a slice of bread.

Melody seemed to notice the stares too. She shifted uncomfortably and leaned toward Michael.

"I wonder if they deliver to our dorms?" she asked under her breath.

"What?" he called out, cupping a hand to his ear over the din of voices.

She shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Never mind…"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.