Lament for My First Life

The Royal Academy

The next morning dawned clear and soft, sunlight spilling like melted gold across the marble floors of the Winter estate. The maids were already bustling around Xylenne's room, chattering softly as they prepared her for the day.

Steam rose from the warm bath, scented faintly with jasmine. The maids carefully washed her hair, their hands gentle as if she were porcelain. Afterward, they brushed through her long white locks until they shone like silk before gathering them into two neat little buns tied with ribbons that matched the pale blue of her new dress.

She looked in the mirror, tiny, delicate, and radiant. It felt strange, wearing something so lovely again. She almost didn't recognize the child staring back at her. When the carriage pulled up to the gates, Zephyros was already waiting. His dark coat was pressed, his hair neater than usual, and though his expression was calm, there was a faint trace of pride in his eyes.

"You look presentable," he said lightly.

Xylenne smiled, clutching the hem of her dress. "I'm ready."

"Then let's go, Lady Winter."

The two of them climbed into the carriage, the wheels creaking softly as it began to move. Through the small window, Xylenne watched the scenery pass, the cobblestone streets of the capital, the spires of towers, and finally, the distant glimmer of something magnificent on the horizon.

It looked like a castle, tall and grand, surrounded by enchanted gardens that shimmered faintly with magic. The Royal Academy. Here, mages trained their minds and warriors honed their blades. It was where the sons of dukes learned strategy, where the daughters of nobles mastered etiquette and elemental arts, where princes studied alongside the empire's brightest.

It was a place for the elite, and today, a seven-year-old girl with white hair and a sharp mind was about to walk through its gates.

When they arrived, Xylenne clutched Zephyros's hand tightly, staring up in awe. "It's so big..." she whispered.

He gave a faint smirk. "You'll get used to it."

As they walked through the marble halls, whispers followed them. The teachers recognized Zephyros immediately—his presence alone seemed to ripple through the building. "Is that Sir Zephyros Winter?" one whispered.

"The prodigy himself?" said another. "The one who graduated top of every class?"

Zephyros, as usual, ignored the attention.

He led Xylenne to the Headmaster's Office, where an elderly man with silver hair and sharp eyes looked up in surprise. "Zephyros?" the headmaster said, standing quickly. "By the heavens, it's been years! I thought you'd vanished into your research forever!"

"I nearly did," Zephyros replied with a polite nod. "But I'm here today for her." He placed a hand gently on Xylenne's shoulder.

The little girl stepped forward, posture straight, voice clear and confident. "Pleasure to meet you, Headmaster. I am Xylenne Winter, of the House of Winter."

Her tiny curtsy was graceful and practiced, her tone full of confidence.

The headmaster blinked, then chuckled warmly. "Well, aren't you polite! Is this little cutie your child, Zephyros?"

Zephyros's expression stiffened. "N-no," he corrected quickly. "She's my niece."

"I see," said the headmaster, his kind smile returning. "But she seems a bit young to be here. We don't usually take students under nine years old."

"I'm aware," Zephyros said, his voice calm but firm. "But she's an exception. Test her if you'd like. I recommend using the senior examination."

The headmaster raised a brow but nodded. "If you insist."

Moments later, Xylenne was seated alone in a large classroom, her legs dangling off the tall chair, a quill in her tiny hand.

On the desk before her lay a thick stack of papers, the senior-level entrance test, questions meant for students ready to graduate. Complex equations, magical theory, history, and political philosophy filled the pages. To the teachers watching from the hall, it looked almost cruel. But Zephyros only stood there with his arms crossed, eyes calm, knowing exactly what she could do.

The quill scratched against the parchment. Xylenne's expression never wavered. By the time she finished, the room was silent. The headmaster flipped through her answers, his face shifting from curiosity... to disbelief... to utter astonishment.

"By the gods," he whispered. "Every answer is correct. Perfect."

Zephyros smirked faintly to himself as he signed the final line on her enrollment form. "Wow, you're very impressive, Lady Xylenne," the headmaster said, setting down the papers. Xylenne straightened in her chair, a proud little smile curving her lips. "Indeed I am," she said brightly. "I'll be the second successor in this academy, my name will be written right beside Zephyros Winter." Zephyros's pen paused mid-signature. "Don't boast, Xylenne," he said without looking up. "It's not graceful."

"Sorry..." she mumbled under her breath.

The headmaster chuckled. "Are you excited for tomorrow? Your first official day?" Xylenne's eyes lit up. "Yes! This is my first time ever going to school!" Zephyros glanced at her then, watching the genuine joy in her expression. It was so rare to see her look like that, pure, childish happiness, free from fear or bitterness.

He smiled softly. "Then let's make sure it's a day worth remembering."

The headmaster handed him the finished papers. "Welcome back to the academy, Lord Winter," he said warmly. "And welcome, Lady Xylenne. I expect great things from you." "Oh, you will," Xylenne said proudly.

As they left the office, her small hand slipped into Zephyros's. She couldn't stop smiling, and this time, neither could he.