The carriage rocked gently beneath them as it rolled through the cobbled streets. Suri sat with one leg crossed, arms folded with the smugness of someone who knew she looked good. Rin, meanwhile, kept fidgeting with the hem of her dress, glancing out the window every few seconds. Kana sat motionless beside her, staring ahead like she was preparing for battle.

  Boris tugged at the collar of his fitted black coat for who knows how many times.

  “We should’ve just walked,” Kana muttered. “We’re late now.”

  “We’re fashionably late,” Suri corrected. “Besides, walking would’ve made a scene.”

  “You mean you would’ve made a scene,” Boris said dryly.

  Suri smiled without denial.

  As the carriage rolled up to the Stark estate, the contrast hit them like a gust of warm perfume. Lights lined the path, glowing at perfect intervals, illuminating the gates and walls in gentle bluish light. Other carriages were just ahead—sleek, customized, polished to a mirror sheen. Nobility. Their carriages didn’t even have rental tags.

  The towering gates opened without a word. The estate beyond looked more like a museum than a home. White marble steps led to the open double doors of the manor, flanked by attendants dressed in formal black uniforms, each with a gemstone pin at the collar. They couldn’t believe it was the same mansion they had visited before.

  Suri stepped forward, handing over the scroll invitation with elegance like how the noble acted before her.

  The staff gave them a moment’s appraisal—polite, silent—and nodded them through.

  Then, they stepped inside.

  It was like entering another realm.

  The chandelier above the grand hall radiated enough light to shame the moon. It sparkled with arcane crystal with soft music drifting through the air. A quartet played instruments Kana couldn’t name—one of them might not even have strings.

  Guests mingled under towering arches, laughter and wine flowing in equal measure. Gowns and tailored suits shimmered with silk, lace, and enchantments subtle enough to signal wealth.

  Kana walked like a ghost, distant and unreadable as ever.

  Suri, in contrast, stepped through the hall with the assurance of someone born under chandeliers. Rin tried to copy her stride, but her nervousness betrayed her in every glance and half-step.

  Boris adjusted his coat again and leaned toward Kana. “How do people breathe in these things?”

  Kana ignored him, her eyes scanning the across the room. She could feel each and everyone of them from her [High Awareness]

  Without hesitation, Suri led them toward the banquet tables—long, ornate spreads of food, arranged like a royal offering. Few guests hovered there yet. Most were too focused on networking, appearances, and politics.

  “Let’s dig in,” Suri said, winking at the group as she reached for a gilded plate.

  Kana sighed but followed. Her eyes flicked over the foreign names of dishes she’d never tasted, never even read about.

  But curiosity was a strong thing.

  She picked up a bite-sized tart glazed in something that shimmered faintly with orange-gold. It tasted like honey, citrus, and something warmer—almost like firewood.

  “This… is good,” she admitted quietly.

  Rin beamed as she stuffed her mouth with something that looked like edible glass.

  Boris grumbled. “I’ll never understand rich people’s obsession with tiny food.”

  Still, he ate.

  ……….

  “Hello.”

  The voice pulled Kana’s attention. She recognized him instantly—Valdis, a second-year from Gold Class, and a member of the Student Council. Blonde, broad-faced, with just enough fat around his middle to show a life of comfort.

  He stared directly at Kana.

  “Are you lost?” he asked, smiling like he knew the answer.

  Suri frowned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Do you know him?”

  Kana didn’t even blink. “Student council. Second year. Don’t know his name.”

  “Valdis Brack,” he said with a theatrical bow. “Second year. Gold class.”

  “Ah,” Suri said sweetly. “To answer your question—we’re not lost. We’re invited.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Valdis laughed. Loud. Too loud. His laughter drew attention, and soon curious nobles began drifting over.

  “You look the part,” Valdis said, “but you’re no highborn. I know every noble house in this room. You are not one of us.”

  He leaned closer, his grin sharpening. “Why in the world would Leo invite you?”

  Suri’s voice rang out, louder than before, calm but clear. “Maybe because we’re friends with him. You could always ask.”

  “Youweh, jus’ awk ‘im,” Boris added, his mouth full of what looked like sugar-glazed meat. He didn’t even glance up.

  Valdis’s smile slipped. “You don’t get it. Everyone here is highborn. You’re not.”

  Kana stiffened. With her [High Awareness], she could hear the whispers ripple through the crowd like a current:

  Who are they?

  Are they actors?

  No surname—illegitimate?

  Shouldn’t be here—

  Kana whispered, low and urgent. “Suri. Too much attention. We need to go.”

  Suri’s hesitation lasted a heartbeat.

  Then, with perfect poise and loud enough for everyone to hear, she replied, “Such poor manners for someone who calls himself highborn.”

  She turned her back. Boris, in a scramble, shoved one last bite into his mouth and followed. Rin clung to Kana’s side, shrinking into her shadow.

  Valdis’s voice came like a crack of dry wood behind them.

  “You’re not leaving unscathed!”

  They turned.

  “I’m the best class of the second year,” he spat. “A [Pyromancer].”

  Fire bloomed from his palms—very hot, wild but beautiful. Yet his expensive clothes remained untouched, protected by layered enchantments. A great flame surged in his hand.

  Then he hurled it toward Suri.

  Kana’s body moved before her mind caught up—but Suri raised a hand, palm open.

  The flame howled through the air, searing bright—then vanished.

  Just vanished.

  Kana’s eyes widened. She hadn’t seen a barrier. No wall. No illusion.

  Only felt it. A massive surge of mana. Swallowing the fire like a beast breathing in smoke.

  Suri’s eyes narrowed, chin up, looking down at Valdis who was very surprised.

  Did she… develop a new skill?

  Valdis froze.

  Kana stepped forward now.

  ….

  Kana’s gaze swept across the room.

  And stopped.

  Up on the second-floor balcony, , stood Duke Stark himself. He wasn’t speaking. Just watching. A wine glass in hand, his eyes locked with hers.

  He smiled. Amused.

  Then nodded.

  He was watching the whole time.

  Why didn’t he help us?

  “Are we done here?” Kana asked, her voice quiet but firm—cutting through the tension.

  Valdis didn’t answer. But the magic in his hands did.

  The flame swelled—tripled in size. Burning orange, roaring red. Had dangerous heat, hot enough that the chandelier’s arcane glow flickered slightly. Guests stumbled backward, gowns rustling, goblets dropped, voices rising in alarm.

  Kana's eyes snapped sideways.

  Boris was already gone.

  No—not gone—moved.

  Standing next to Valdis now, almost casually, like he’d always been there. Kana didn’t even need her [High Awareness] to know he’d been waiting for the right opening.

  She smiled. Boris would take care of it.

  Valdis roared, “Take—!”

  He never finished the word.

  Boris's fist moved obviously but Valdis wasn’t aware of him.

  It wasn’t fancy. No flourish. Just a clean, direct punch to the gut. All the mana in Valdis’s hands collapsed as the breath exploded from his lungs. The flame fizzled out with a gasp. He crumpled like wet cloth.

  Before Valdis could hit the floor, Boris caught him with surprising gentleness, cradling the unconscious noble in his arms like a drunk friend at the end of a long night.

  “Ah,” Boris said loudly, turning toward the stunned guests. “Looks like our dear Valdis had a few too many drinks.”

  Kana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Rin failed to suppress a giggle.

  Then came the footsteps. Quick, precise. And a voice just behind them.

  “Kana!”

  Leo arrived in a rush, worried. But not the usual Leo. He looked—different tonight. The polished version of himself. Hair slicked back. Tunic embroidered with his house’s crest. A young noble wrapped in formality.

  He stopped short at the sight of Valdis slumped in Boris’s arms.

  “…You’re alright,” Leo said. Then, after a beat, he sighed. “Of course you are.”

  “I warned you,” Leo muttered under his breath and looked at Valdis’ state. “But I forgot to warn him.”

  He turned, offering the crowd a well-rehearsed, genial smile that diffused some of the lingering tension.

  “Everyone, my sincerest apologies. Valdis seems to have misjudged his tolerance—and his company. The fault lies with my invitation, not with our guests.”

  The murmurs began to ease. The nobles weren’t satisfied—but Leo had shifted the narrative.

  Just another noble party mishap.

  As guards came forward to quietly collect Valdis, Leo gave Kana a sideways glance and whispered, “Sorry, didn’t know how that guy got an invitation.”

  Kana crossed her arms. “You said it was a small party.”

  “It was supposed to be.” Leo smiled again—this time, not as a noble, but as himself. “But now? Everyone’s going to remember it. Quite a gift.”