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TO&FQ: Book 2 - Chapter 12 (RAW)
🕑 Added 2025-02-18 14:15:05 +0000 UTCChapter 12 - The First Day
Education is the passport to the future, for tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today.
- Malcolm X.
There was nothing quite like a crisis that could be manipulated to one’s advantage—especially if that crisis had been carefully orchestrated. After the initial uproar died down and an investigation got underway, Seraphina and her mother, the Duchess Anaselena, marched straight to Principal Hegandia’s office the very next morning. The “target” of the mysterious bolt, the Duchess de Sariens demanded special treatment: a randomly assigned roommate was simply out of the question. Furthermore, using their momentum they were able to push forward a few more “recommendations” for this year’s intake of students and staff.
Principal Hegandia was left with little choice in the matter. Anaselena made her position brutally clear by proclaiming she had “foreseen” some rather grisly consequences if he refused her unconditional requests. The principal knew full well that a threat from the Duchess, even veiled behind talk of prophecy, was still a threat. It was times like these that Seraphine was glad for her mother’s fierce love.
And so, Seraphina’s new roommate would be her loyal lady-in-waiting, Eloise, while Miriam would occupy the neighboring room. By a twist of fate, Desdemona de Savant would share Miriam’s quarters, a pairing that made Seraphina’s lips curl into a calculating smile. She resolved to either recruit the de Savant girl into her growing circle—or break her completely and keep the whining hound on a tight leash.
It would be an easy thing for Seraphina knew full well the de Savant family’s long-hidden secret.
Yet all was not entirely in Seraphina’s favor. Now that her mother had wielded such blunt force on her behalf, Seraphina found herself under even tighter surveillance by both Academy Guards and the City Guard. She would have to tread carefully and be on her very best behavior. To complicate matters further, Anaselena had purchased the deed to the house that had served as her temporary accommodation before the term started with coin gained through proxies on the local exchange. It was a statement that her mother, through basically “cheating,” could achieve anything Seraphina had done so far with little to no effort.
The Duchess had also made it clear she’d be staying in Meridian whenever she pleased—to indulge in the latest fashions, or to visit her daughter when the fancy took her. Seraphina found it all rather distressing, though she kept her misgivings hidden behind a poised smile.
And now, Seraphina stood at the threshold of her new domain in the Academy’s southern dormitory: a cramped second-floor room with whitewashed walls and a single high-set window. The light and a chilly breeze filtered in through the glass, illuminating two wooden desks beneath. A pair of narrow beds, draped in coarse cotton sheets, sat at opposite corners. Despite having expected something spartan, Seraphina felt her heart sink at the sight of the barren space. Beside her, Eloise looked positively green, her own regrets bubbling to the surface.
“I must say, Lady Seraphina, I really was not expecting this,” Eloise complained, her voice trembling slightly.
Seraphina’s pulse quickened with a stab of resentment, but she kept her features perfectly schooled. Though she had mentally prepared for it, the place did indeed look more like a cell in a monastery than a bedroom in a prestigious academy. “You’re quite right,” she replied coolly. “This simply will not do. I’ll have new furnishings brought in at once to make it livable.”
“But isn’t that against the rules?” Eloise asked, eyes wide. “Aren’t we all meant to be...equal?”
Seraphina offered a slow, cunning smile, her golden hair catching a stray beam of afternoon sunlight. “Yes, my dear Eloise, yet some of us are more equal than others. And I fully intend to be the first among equals.” She gestured pointedly to a ragged splinter jutting from the corner of one of the desks. “Why, look at this. A deadly trap, I daresay.”
“But—” Eloise began, pausing just as she realized the game Seraphina was playing. “You are quite right, Lady Seraphina. This is clearly another attempt on your life. The staff of the dormitory should be thrown into the stocks!” Her tone turned mock-serious, but the laughter dancing in her eyes betrayed her amusement.
“Precisely,” Seraphina agreed, pretending grave indignation. “But perhaps I can be merciful. In exchange for our forgiveness, the Academy will have no choice but to grant us the privilege of bringing in proper furniture and decorations… post haste!”
Their shared giggles filled the spartan chamber, echoing against the whitewashed walls. For a moment, they reveled in the power that came from privileged positions, the innocent knowledge that even the strict regulations of the Academy could be bent if one applied the right kind of pressure. And Seraphina, as always, knew exactly how to apply it.
Yet for some reason, the girl felt that she was forgetting something… or somebody.
***
Desdemona, now that her initial spat of jealousy had somewhat subsided, was far more manageable—so long as you played to her ego. Her dark brown hair flowed freely around her shoulders today, and both Seraphina and Eloise made sure to compliment the style. That small act of flattery was enough to soothe her, for despite the frown Desdemona tried to maintain, her veneer of sullenness kept slipping away under the force of Seraphina’s formidable Charisma. It was a skill Seraphina had honed to near-perfection: turning enemies into friends—or at the very least into harmless, neutral parties.
The de Savant family, though not one of the most powerful in the realm, still held a certain weight. They always sided with the villainess unless protagonist Este Lize made very specific choices to sway them. Pleased with herself, she decided she was growing wiser by the minute.
Though the girls shared the same dormitories, their classes were separate in the Academy. There were five classes for the first-year students in total—Wisteria, Carnation, Lily, Camellia, and Dahlia—each consisting of twenty students: ten boys and ten girls, assigned by random lot. Seraphina’s high Luck attribute had placed her in Wisteria alongside her maid, Miriam, but it did not extend to her lady-in-waiting Eloise, who ended up in Dahlia class with Desdemona. By way of compensation, perhaps, three of Seraphina’s five knight-guards—allowed entry to protect her from further “assassination attempts”—were placed in Wisteria as well.
This meant Seraphina’s faction in the student body began at a solid eight, not counting staff. Frest had joined the academy as an Arts Martial instructor, while the brothers Giles and Krayton served as groundskeepers. It was a overall a promising foothold.
But conquest was not her intent here, really; Seraphina merely wanted an easier life at school. With the right nudges and minor manipulations, she was sure she could smooth away any major complications. As she sat in her classroom, half-listening to a boy introduce himself, she assessed and thought about how the future might shape out rather carefully. The boy was tall and gangly, painfully shy. Still, he was not entirely a lost cause and might grow into his looks in a few years, but his timid demeanor soured any promise for the moment. Prince Vellens, for all his faults, looked positively confident compared to this one.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Hughes,” said the homeroom tutor in a voice that hovered between polite encouragement and nervousness. She adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses and smiled at her class.
It was clear for all to see that she was new at this.
Daniella Templeton was, in Seraphina’s eyes, thoroughly average: unremarkably pretty in that homely, girl-next-door way—someone who might transition seamlessly into a dull, overprotective mother type after a poor marriage. Shy and unassuming, she reminded Seraphina of Miriam in many ways, right down to her timid posture.
Lesser men would find this type of woman rather attractive as Daniella simply screamed obtainable and easily available. Now while Seraphina enjoyed being seen as desirable, she detested the thought of, or being viewed, as “attainable.”
She saw some of her classmates look at Miss Templeton with almost predatory eyes; inexperienced teachers were easy prey for those who liked to test authority. The young girl thought that there would be blood in the water soon.
More interesting still, Ms. Templeton was not a character Seraphina recognized from the game’s lore. Perhaps she was a byproduct of procedural generation or a subtle shift in the story caused by Seraphina’s own meddling. Either way, a teacher with no fixed fate intrigued her—though Seraphina detested the idea of anyone viewing her as equally unremarkable or attainable.
“Miss Sariens,” Ms. Templeton called softly, “please introduce yourself to the class.”
At the back of the room, near the window, Seraphina had to fight the urge to correct the teacher’s omission of her title. Such was the Academy’s stance on equality: it grated on Seraphina, but she held her tongue. Instead, she stood with practiced elegance and swept to the front of the classroom.
Her plump and cheerful friend Michelié, also in Wisteria, gave her an enthusiastic wave. Seraphina nodded and smiled back at her.
“I am sure I need no introduction,” Seraphina announced brightly, flashing a radiant smile. “But just to be certain—my name is Seraphina de Sariens, and I look forward to sharing the next three years with all of you.”
A lie, and a brazen one, offered with perfect poise. The next three years stretched before her like one long, inescapable story event—dragged out and unskippable. Unlike a game, there would be no convenient time jumps. Praise be to the authentic school life experience.
But this time, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind: Maybe I could at least try to enjoy it this time round.
Well, she would at least make an effort. Not that she expected much success—circumstances had a way of conspiring against such modest aspirations. And Seraphina? Seraphina herself was anything but modest.
She returned to her seat, acutely aware of the attention that lingered on her. The invisible residue of the commoners’ curious gazes seemed to cling to her skin; she longed for a bath just thinking about it.
“Err… thank you very much, Lady—Miss Sariens,” the teacher corrected herself mid-sentence, clearly uncertain how to handle a noble in class. The quiet hush that followed spoke volumes: Seraphina’s station was as blindingly obvious as staring at the sun.
The introductions went on, one forgettable name and face after another. Out of simple politeness, Seraphina committed each to memory; people liked being remembered, and it could prove useful. Though they were mere footnotes in her story, they viewed themselves as main characters in their own. It was like a flightless chicken convinced it could soar with eagles—endearing in a way, if a bit naïve.
“Of course,” Ms. Templeton finally announced, “next we have our orientation of the faculty grounds! Please form groups of five.” It came out as more of a plea than an actual command from a figure of authority.
The class of twenty immediately erupted into swirling cliques, a microcosm of Aranthian society. Nobles flocked to nobles, commoners to commoners, and the outliers gathered in small clusters of their own.
Seraphina signaled to one of her Knights—Sir Galio Gravens, newly enrolled as a student. Despite his youth, anyone with eyes could see he was more soldier than schoolboy: he walked like a predator, hand instinctively drifting to his waist for a sword that he was no longer permitted to carry.
“Yes, mi…” Gravens caught himself, clearing his throat. “Miss Seraphina, I would be honored to join your group. Adraine and Filippe would also—”
A sudden interruption came from Hughes, the timid boy from earlier. “Can I join you, Miss Seraphina?” he asked, eyes shining with desperate eagerness.
The boldness of such an overfamiliar request nearly made her flinch. Sir Gravens bristled with annoyance, reflecting Seraphina’s own disdain. “Who do you think you are?” he snarled. “This is the Lady—”
Seraphina placed a gentle hand on Gravens’s arm to calm him, directing a measured, indulgent smile at Hughes. “Gravens, remember—we are all equals here at the academy.” She turned to the boy. “Hughes, correct?” she said softly.
He lit up, giving her a sunny smile and basking in the fact that she remembered his name. Mentally, she gave herself a pat on the back for having such keen foresight.
“Of course, you’re most welcome to join us,” Seraphina continued, trying to make her voice not sound too forced. “Ah, Miriam, there you are. This is Hughes, and I suspect you two might have plenty in common.” She said it like a benevolent queen granting a favor, though her eyes were shot with just the slightest touch of irritation.
“Oh, don’t forget about me!” laughed a jovial Michelié, sneaking up on her and grabbing Seraphina’s arm. “You, simply must let me join you.”
How on earth could so much blubber move with such stealth? thought Seraphina acerbically. And, although Seraphina would have much preferred one of her own “people” in the group, it would not be politique to deny such a direct quest from a de Montan.
That settled it. Their group of five was formed—Seraphina, Miriam, Gravens, Hughes, and Michelié de Montan.
“Ah, here they are!” exclaimed Ms. Templeton, looking rather relieved. “The volunteer second-year students who will be your guides for the orientation.”
