The afternoon light in the Grand Cafeteria had softened into a gentle golden hue as the lunch rush began to wind down.
Will Harlan stood behind the serving counter, wiping down the surface with a damp cloth. The Simple Apron around his waist was once again dotted with fresh oil stains and faint spice marks. The Mother's Worn Pot sat on its usual shelf behind him, its silver-gray glow steady and warm in the soft light. The Inherited Kitchen Knife rested safely at his belt, still slightly warm from the morning's work.
The whispers had become a constant background hum. Some students still mocked him openly when they thought he couldn't hear. Others had begun to watch him with quiet curiosity. A few even quietly asked for "the usual" when they thought no one was listening.
Will kept his head down and continued his tasks, but his mind was elsewhere — replaying the small victories of the recent missions and the warm moments with Einsfel.
Then he noticed her.
Lirael Voss had entered the cafeteria and was standing a short distance away, her long golden-blonde hair catching the light. Her pointed elf ears twitched slightly as she scanned the room. Her elegant uniform was immaculate, but there was a subtle tension in her posture. She seemed to be looking for something — or someone.
When her icy blue eyes landed on Will, she hesitated for a moment before walking straight toward the counter.
Will straightened up, surprised.
Lirael stopped in front of him, her expression a careful mix of arrogance and reluctant curiosity.
"You," she said, her voice carrying that haughty tone she seemed to wear like armor. "The cook who gave me that… rice yesterday."
Will nodded politely. "Yes. Did it help with your experiment?"
Lirael's cheeks gained the faintest touch of pink, but she quickly masked it with a scoff.
"It was… tolerable," she said, lifting her chin. "For something made by a kitchen servant. The herbs you used were unusual. They helped stabilize my mana flow more effectively than some of the standard academy reagents. I want to know what they were."
Will smiled faintly, sensing the curiosity hidden beneath her proud words.
"They're a blend my mother taught me," he replied honestly. "Nothing rare or expensive. Just common herbs prepared in a specific way. The key is the timing and the intention behind the cooking."
Lirael's eyes narrowed slightly, but she couldn't hide the spark of genuine interest.
"Intention?" she repeated, sounding both skeptical and intrigued. "You speak as if cooking is some kind of… ritual."
Will shrugged. "In a way, it is. At least for me."
Before Lirael could respond, Einsfel appeared at the counter, returning her empty bowl from earlier. She had clearly heard the conversation. Her blue eyes flicked between Will and Lirael, a small, complicated expression crossing her face for a brief moment — a mix of warmth for Will and the very first hint of something else.
A small spark of jealousy.
"Finished already?" Will asked her gently.
Einsfel nodded, her voice soft but steady. "Yes. It helped as always."
She glanced at Lirael, her tone polite but with a subtle edge.
"Lirael Voss, right? I've seen you in the advanced alchemy classes. You have quite the reputation."
Lirael turned to her, her posture straightening with aristocratic grace.
"And you are Einsfel," she replied, her voice cool. "The new genius from the border. I've heard the instructors talking about your mana control. Impressive… for someone without noble blood."
The air between the two girls grew slightly tense.
Will felt the shift and quickly stepped in.
"Would you like another bowl, Lirael?" he asked, trying to ease the moment. "I can make it with a bit more focus herbs if you'd like."
Lirael hesitated, then nodded with a small huff.
"…Fine. Make it the same as yesterday. I need to test its effects again for my research."
As Will prepared the bowl, Einsfel stood quietly beside the counter, her fingers lightly tapping the surface. She watched Lirael with a calm but observant gaze.
When Will handed Lirael the new bowl, she took it with two hands, her expression still proud but her eyes betraying genuine curiosity.
"Thank you," she said stiffly. "I'll… evaluate it later."
She turned and walked away, but not before glancing back at Will once more.
Einsfel watched her leave, then turned to Will with a small, complicated smile.
"She seems… interested," she said softly.
Will scratched the back of his neck. "She just wants to know about the herbs. Nothing more."
Einsfel's smile widened slightly, though there was a hint of playful jealousy in her eyes.
"We'll see," she murmured. "But for now… I still have priority on your cooking."
She leaned closer for a moment, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Tonight. My room. Don't be late."
Will's ears turned red again as she walked away with graceful composure.
He stood there for a moment, looking at the Mother's Worn Pot on the shelf. The silver-gray light along its rim seemed to glow a little brighter, as if sensing the small shift in the air.
Lirael's curiosity had been sparked.
And the first small crack in the academy's rigid social order had begun to form.