The auditorium was full.
More than four hundred students sat facing the stage—rows of pressed uniforms, family crests stitched on shoulders, whispers moving like wind through the crowd. Some exchanged quiet notes. Others leaned over to murmur predictions. Most just waited.
Noel sat in the upper third of the hall, slightly slouched, arms crossed, watching without expression. Roberto sat next to him, head tilted, lazily fidgeting with a charm tied to his belt.
Then the lights dimmed.
And silence followed.
From stage right, a tall girl stepped forward. Short blue hair, navy eyes, uniform cut sharp and precise. She didn't smile.
Myriel von Astralis.
President of the Student Council. Two years at the top. Uncontested.
She stepped up to the podium—a structure of polished blackwood inlaid with silver runes—and let the silence breathe before speaking.
"I'll keep this short."
A few chuckles from the front rows.
