The Next Day…
Gilbert woke up before dawn. The room was still lit, just as he had left it the night before.
He looked at his hand. Dried blood stained his skin, its mark still visible on his clothes and the desk.
He washed up, changed his clothes, and sat at the edge of the bed.
If anyone had seen this… I'd be in real trouble.
His mind flicked to Athena, her tearful eyes fixed on him the last time she saw him bleeding. Perhaps she had thought he was dying before her eyes, helpless to ease his pain.
For eleven years, he had suffered from this mysterious illness, yet he never died. No one ever asked him: How have you survived until now?
Why? Of course—he had decided long ago to stay away from others, ensuring that no one would discover his condition. At most, only two people knew: the Marquise and Athena. Both avoided mentioning it, probably out of consideration for his feelings.
What kind of illness keeps someone alive through all this?
After wiping the dried blood from the floor and desk, he approached the window to close it—but a faint metallic scent reached his nose.
It wasn't the heavy smell of his own blood, but something eerily similar… unfamiliar.
He quickly pushed the thought away, convincing himself that the air carried all sorts of scents through the hall.
It couldn't have come from this room… that was impossible.
He left the room soon after, a heavy unease weighing on his chest.
Looks like I'll remain like this until the very end…
---
At half past eight in the morning, the air was still cold around the central courtyard. Gradually, the sounds of footsteps grew louder as the candidates gathered around the massive fountain in the center.
They wore the uniforms handed out an hour earlier: black trousers, comfortable cream shirts, and light leather boots reaching their knees.
As usual, Athena tied her hair into a ponytail. Gilbert, meanwhile, had changed nothing about his appearance—except for the silver earring in his right ear, catching the sunlight.
Before Athena could greet him, her eyes caught something unusual on him. Curiously, she asked:
"Brother… what's that you're wearing? Have you picked up a new hobby without telling me?"
Gilbert had felt the weight of the earring the moment he put it on—not its literal weight, but its presence. Her question only added to his discomfort.
He touched the side of his neck, lowered his head slightly, and sighed before answering:
"Almost a gift… from the Lady. Seems like another one of her whims—meant to humiliate me."
For a moment, the air felt heavy, as if the mention of the Marquise had distorted their sense of time. Athena quickly tried to lighten the mood, though her tense expression gave her away.
"It's unusual for you, I know… but it suits you. Don't worry, you look handsome as always."
He studied her for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, then spoke more sharply than he intended:
"I expected you to say: Why force yourself to accept something from the Marquise if you don't want it? But your reaction… it was different from what I expected."
Athena blushed, looked away, then replied with a soft smile:
"I would have said that… but I also know she never gives anything completely useless. There must be a reason, right? Anyway, let's just move on, as long as it suits you."
Reason… I wonder if the strange feeling I had when I touched it is connected…
Gilbert gave a faint smile, watching her make the effort to accept something from her mother, while inside, he couldn't shake the heavy feeling that had been with him since morning. Perhaps it was a delayed side effect from last night… or something else he didn't dare name.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden question:
"I don't see Ethan… where did he go?"
Athena's expression darkened, and she sighed at the mention of his name:
"He said he'd get drinks, claiming the tests would be tiring for both of us. I don't know if he's being honest or just wandering off, as usual."
"He's right behind you."
Gilbert muttered. Athena turned, half-mocking, half-amused:
"The devil appears as soon as you mention him."
Ethan approached confidently, holding two cocktail glasses, his usual smile never leaving his face. He extended a hand, his tone teasing but gentle at the same time:
"I hope you haven't spoken ill of me in my absence. Look at how much I care about you, Miss… and young sir."
He was met with cold silence at first, something he was used to. But then came unexpected words that eased the tension slightly:
Gilbert: "…Yes, thank you, Ethan."
Athena: "Well done. You may wander now. We'll see you later."
They stepped away together, leaving him in a small daze. He muttered bitterly under his breath:
Have I gotten so used to insults that a kind word feels strange?
---
Half an hour later, the carriages were still lined up at the grand gate. Nobles and commoners had gathered in the courtyard. Sharp gazes and looks of disdain were cast at the commoners, but such sights were nothing new in this empire—it was a scene that could be seen anywhere outside.
Observers busied themselves with distributing hall numbers and organizing the lines, ignoring the situation as long as no public bullying occurred.
Gilbert drew hall number four, Athena got the first, and they soon separated.
The written exams went surprisingly smoothly—easy, at least for Gilbert's impression. Accounting, economics, literature, and philosophy.
By one o'clock, he joined Athena and Ethan for lunch. Ethan seemed unusually quiet, eyes fixed on his meal, hands still as if his mind was elsewhere. But neither Athena nor Gilbert cared—who could truly read his mind? Or predict his actions?
---
At exactly three o'clock, everyone gathered again in the back courtyard.
A teacher climbed a small platform, his booming voice almost deafening as he spoke:
"Let's skip the introductions and move to the important part… You will now face two tests that determine if you truly deserve admission to the academy: the shooting test… and the dueling test. You must score at least half in each, including previous exams, to pass."
A student raised his hand to ask about the tests. The man answered firmly.
The explanation was brief; the rules were well-known:
"Shoot at wooden targets with training pistols, then duel each other in a real match. Victory means forcing your opponent to surrender or knocking them unconscious. Any deliberate attempt to inflict permanent harm results in disqualification. Every individual is fully responsible for their actions. That's all."
The students exchanged glances—a mixture of excitement and tension—as the name call began.
Shooting had been a basic skill every noble was expected to master from childhood, so the test was easy for most. But everyone knew the hardest moment had yet to come: the dueling test, the most crucial for proving a candidate's worth, especially in an empire that revered horsemanship and martial prowess.
The next venue was the dueling ground, separated from the shooting range by a main road. As they walked, Athena broke the silence:
"I think the next test will be more fun…"
A small smile curved Gilbert's lips. He looked away from the path to watch Athena's animated face, then said:
"Yes, no matter the opponent, at least it won't be boring like before."
Athena smiled lightly, replying with enthusiasm:
"Exactly! I'm curious to see who I'll fight, but not as much as I'm looking forward to fighting you… It's been a long time since I saw you in a real duel. This will be fun."
Gilbert strode forward, eyes drifting away:
I'd be lucky to find a rare coin here…