Lament for My First Life

The Seeds of Rivalry

The sunlight spilled gently through the tall arched windows of the Royal Academy, catching specks of dust that floated lazily in the air. Rows of desks gleamed beneath it, filled with noble children scribbling furiously into their notebooks while the deep, steady voice of the professor filled the room.

Xylenne sat at her desk near the front, her posture perfect, her neat handwriting flowing quickly across her parchment. Beside her sat Eryndor Valthis, his brow furrowed and his tongue poking out slightly as he tried, and failed, to keep up.

"This is so difficult," Eryndor muttered under his breath.

Without looking up from her work, Xylenne whispered back, "Come to my estate after school. I'll review today's lesson with you."

Eryndor's eyes lit up. "Really?" he whispered back eagerly. But before he could say another word, "Lady Winter." The professor's calm, low voice cut through the murmurs. Xylenne froze. "Please mind your manners during my lessons," the professor said gently, though his tone carried the kind of quiet authority that silenced the room instantly.

Xylenne quickly stood up, bowing deeply. "My apologies, Professor." Her cheeks flushed as soft chuckles rippled through the class. She sat down, straightening her quill again and pretending to focus. The professor, with his long white hair and composed face, returned to the chalkboard, his tone unchanging. But as he turned away, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, quick and fleeting, like a shadow of amusement. No one noticed. Except one.

From the far back corner, Sylvareaen Orthis watched sharply, his crimson eyes narrowing. Why is he smiling at her like that? he thought, glaring between the professor and Xylenne. He's never smiled at anyone before... The boy leaned his chin on his hand, expression unreadable but eyes filled with quiet suspicion. Is it because they're the same? Both with white hair? The rest of the day passed quietly, though tension lingered in the air, the kind only a few children could sense without knowing why.

When the final bell rang, laughter and chatter filled the academy courtyard. Xylenne and Eryndor stood by the grand stone steps as servants lined the streets with carriages waiting. "This is so exciting!" Eryndor said with his usual enthusiasm. "We can play together once we're used to visiting each other's estates!" Xylenne blinked and laughed softly. "Erm... I don't know about playing," she said politely, "but we can definitely be close friends!" As she smiled, her mind spun with sharper thoughts. Friends, yes... but future allies. The Valthis family's influence could prove valuable. This is how I build my network.

"X-Xylenne?" a small voice interrupted her thoughts.

She turned around, startled, to see Sylvareaen standing awkwardly behind them, fidgeting with his sleeve. "If... if he can go to your house," Sylvareaen stammered, glancing at Eryndor, "then can I?" Xylenne blinked, hiding a grin behind her hand. So, he overheard us. Being friends with him could be even more useful — the son of a duke, after all.

"Of course you can," she said sweetly, clasping her hands together. "Though I'm only helping Eryndor study." Sylvareaen's face flushed. "Then, then can you help me study too!? I'm really bad in class!" That was a lie, and Xylenne knew it. Sylvareaen had been at the top of his class for the past year. Still, she smiled brightly. "Of course! Come by this evening!"

Yes, yes, my networking is brilliant, she thought triumphantly, already planning how this would secure her future connections.

Just then, a familiar carriage arrived, though this time, no Zephyros, no grandfather. Only a single servant stepped down and bowed.

"What? This is what they give me?" Xylenne thought bitterly. "Not even family, just a driver."

Still, she put on a perfect little smile. "See you later, you two!" she called cheerfully, stepping into the carriage. The door shut softly, and the carriage rolled away down the cobbled street. Sylvareaen turned sharply, his crimson eyes flicking toward Eryndor, who was standing quietly beside him. Eryndor rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Hey... I didn't know you were close with Xylenne too."

"Hmph!" Sylvareaen crossed his arms. "We're very close. I even gave her a flower once... and we held hands." It wasn't entirely true, they had only held wrists, and that too in a moment of panic. But Eryndor didn't know that.

"O-oh..." Eryndor said softly, lowering his gaze. "I didn't know that."

"And soon," Sylvareaen added, puffing his chest slightly, "she's going to become my little sister. So you'd better be careful how you talk to her from now on."

Eryndor blinked. "Oh, that's... cool. I'll see you later today then, I guess."

He turned toward his approaching carriage. "What's your name, by the way?"

Sylvareaen tilted his chin up proudly. "Sylvareaen Orthis. My family owns yours, so watch out."

Eryndor tilted his head, a polite smile tugging at his lips. "Nice to meet you, Sylvareaen." He climbed into his carriage, and it rolled away, leaving the young duke's son standing alone on the academy steps.

Sylvareaen stood tall, or at least, as tall as a ten-year-old could. His black hair fell into his crimson eyes as he clenched his small fists. She said yes to me too, he thought stubbornly. So she'll remember me.

The wind tugged at his uniform, and for a brief moment, his glare softened, not in anger this time, but in something far more complicated. The sun began to set, casting long shadows over the academy steps, three children walking three different paths, each unaware of the storm that their fates were beginning to weave together.