Kolden stood to the side, searching for a path through the flood of students. For such a prestigious school, the lack of order was jarring; one would think these heirs had the decency to form a line. But traffic here worked like anywhere else—one careless student makes a wrong turn, and the whole system chokes.
The crowd suddenly surged back as if an invisible plug had been pulled from the entrance. A menacing voice cut through the chatter, and silence fell like a guillotine.
"This is a blasphemy to the academy and the names you hold!"
A man stood atop the stairs. He looked to be in his late thirties, sporting slicked-back black hair and sharp, dark blue eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a black blazer and navy shirt, finished with a brown wool tie. His brown shoes gleamed in the sunlight as he glared down at the mass of students.
"Is this what noble families have to show? Rushing into a hall like savage animals?"
Kolden stared, both impressed and intimidated. Definitely a professor, he thought, hoping fervently he wouldn't end up in this man's class.
"This crowd is a disgrace! Everyone, back away and form an orderly line!" The man's gaze swept the front row. "Kolden Nyvgail, Laerita Ashheart, and Zand Riffharrow—step forward. You three are now line leaders."
Koldens brows raised at the names called, in total from his memories there are 6 great nobles families, riffharrow, Nyvgail, Ash heart, Stormweaver, Ironheart, and Dragonmere,
"If my memories serve me I should've met them before, but only briefly, and a vivid memory of my father warning me to stay clear of the riffharrow family, Wonder why?."
Kolden could practically feel the protest bubbling in the throats of the surrounding nobles. Lower themselves to the role of a guide? Before anyone could object, the professor slammed his cane into the stone. A wave of physical pressure radiated outward. Kolden stumbled, his heart racing as a primal fear took hold. The silence that followed was absolute.
"What did you expect?" the professor demanded, his voice dropping to a low, confident growl. "Nobles are held to standards because they have earned them. If you act like a wild herd in need of a shepherd, you will be treated as such. Until you prove you are better than these three, you have no right to claim your lineage. Is that understood?"
The crowd moved instantly, splintering into three neat files. Kolden took the left. To his right stood Laerita Ashheart. She was striking, with creamy white hair flowing over her shoulders and snow-white eyes that gave her a sharp, ethereal look. Further down was Zand Riffharrow, a tall youth with spiky red hair and a jawline that looked carved from marble.
Does magic clean the body of impurities? Kolden wondered, glancing at his peers. The beauty standards here are insane.
"Well, cadets," the professor said, his tone softening only slightly. "It took you two minutes to find your sense. Proceed."
With a flick of his hand, the heavy wooden doors swung open. While the exterior was cold stone, the interior was lush: burgundy chairs, light brown carpets, and gray marble walls accented by pillars with golden bands. Kolden didn't have long to admire the view; he had a mission. He needed an ally.
He followed Laerita toward a row of seats, sliding in next to her with practiced nonchalance.
"It's a pleasure to be your chosen seating mate, Kolden," she said. Her voice was a flat monotone.
Kolden flashed a charming smile, drawing on every romance novel he'd ever read. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Laerita." He extended a hand.
She didn't take it. Instead, she pinned him with a sharp look. "I meant that sarcastically. I can tell from your stature that I am merely a convenience for whatever scheme you have in mind."
The smile faltered. Caught. He decided to pivot to honesty. "Yeah, you caught me. Honestly? I didn't want to sit near anyone who might start an argument. I figured if anyone was crazy enough to mess with me, they certainly wouldn't handle two high-ranking nobles at once."
Laerita gave a small, stiff nod. "Reasonable logic. But just so you know, if anything happens, you're on your own. It's not in my nature to assist competitors for the throne."
Competitors for the throne? Kolden leaned back, his mind spinning. Was he really in the running for a crown? He looked up at the ceiling, realizing his first stop after the ceremony wouldn't be the dorms—it would be the library. As the leather curtains on the stage began to part, excitement warred with anxiety in his chest. The real test was about to begin.