Juniper tethered her horse in the academy stables with stiff fingers, aware that she was very late. The clouds were already escaping with the lowering sun.The stable yard bustled with servants and wealthier lower-nobles finishing their arrivals, many of whom paused to stare openly at her mud-stained cloak and travel-worn posture. She ignored them with practiced composure, taking time to thank the stablehand who accepted her reins with thinly veiled surprise.
"Lower noble arrivals usually precede orientation, My Lady," the man said carefully, clearly unsure how to address her.
"I had distance to cover and responsibilities at home," Juniper replied evenly, adjusting her satchel strap. The man nodded without comment, though his eyes lingered with unconcealed curiosity as she turned away.
Juniper stepped back onto the stone path and immediately realized she had made a critical mistake. The academy grounds were vast, enclosed by wrought iron gates and layered with branching walkways that curved away from each other like deliberate puzzles. Most students had already dispersed toward their assigned dormitories, following guides or familiar routes, leaving only echoes and confusion behind.
Juniper stood still for a long moment, breathing deeply, before choosing a path at random. A familiar, yearning thought circled her mind as her feet carried her forward, that François would have mapped every route ahead of time, only to wander them anyway out of curiosity, much to her quiet dismay. His voice followed her in memory, dry with reprimand, asking how long she intended to wander like that, and whether she planned to end up in the next city before realizing she was lost. Juniper imagined herself answering with a deliberately foolish expression, playing dumb as she always did, suggesting that if they wandered for two full days they might as well take adventurer jobs and make coins from it.
She walked for several minutes before encountering her first obstacle, which was a group of upper noble girls laughing together near a fountain. Their dresses were immaculate, their hair styled carefully for impressions already being formed.
"Excuse me," Juniper said politely, keeping her voice clear and steady. "Could you tell me which direction leads to the lower noble dormitories?"
The laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by startled silence. One of the girls looked Juniper up and down with frank disbelief.
"You should have followed the assigned guide," the girl said, tone clipped and unimpressed.
"I arrived after orientation concluded and could not," Juniper answered calmly, resisting irritation.
Another girl gestured vaguely toward an intersecting path. "That direction eventually leads somewhere near them, I believe."
Juniper thanked them sincerely and continued on, though the directions felt intentionally imprecise. She walked until the stonework changed slightly beneath her boots, the architecture shifting from decorative elegance to functional austerity. Tall buildings loomed around her, their windows dark and unwelcoming, their doors closed as if discouraging entry. She passed several servants who avoided eye contact and two knights who looked confused by her presence. Each time she asked for directions, she received cautious responses that ranged from hesitant assistance to thinly veiled judgment.
"Lower noble dormitories are still on campus," one knight said slowly, as if correcting a misconception.
"I am aware of that fact, thank you, Sir Knight" Juniper replied with a practiced smile.
Eventually, she found her assigned building, a tall, old French structure integrated directly into the campus grounds. The stone was worn smooth by centuries of use, and ivy clung to its walls with stubborn determination. The building had once been beautiful, she could tell, but time and neglect had dulled its edges. Juniper entered and immediately sensed the quiet.
The interior smelled faintly of dust and old paper, the air cool and heavy. Hallways stretched upward through five stories, their staircases curving elegantly despite chipped banisters and faded rugs. It was clear that this dormitory had been built around the academy's older library holdings, not as an afterthought but as a necessity. The library itself was not grand, but it was immense. Shelves packed tightly with aging volumes filled the space, many marked with symbols indicating outdated curricula or archived research. This was where knowledge went when it no longer impressed donors. Juniper ran her fingers gently along a shelf, absorbing the weight of that realization.
The space stirred a familiar ache that had nothing to do with loneliness and everything to do with memory. In her previous life, she had loved history with an intensity that surprised even her, devouring compact guides, editorial essays, and carefully preserved replicas that her family and her best friend, Joy had gifted her when time was already running short. She had been only sixteen when she passed, yet those books had felt like an apology and a promise at once, a way of saying they saw what she loved even if they could not stay longer to share it with her. Random places like this always drew her back into that same quiet yearning, reminding her how deeply she had loved the old world in all its complicated, imperfect ways without ever truly knowing it. The feeling never tipped into sadness, but lingered instead as a liminal stillness, a soft suspension between who she had been and who she was still becoming.
She continued exploring, mapping the building carefully in her mind. The cafeteria was modest but functional, its long tables scarred with use rather than ornamentation. Several social halls remained locked behind heavy doors, dusted but clearly unmaintained, their furniture shrouded beneath cloth like abandoned memories. As she wandered, she noticed the art. Paintings and tapestries lined the corridors, their craftsmanship exquisite but their subjects unsettling. Women depicted mid-glance, as though caught unaware. Scenes of engagement ceremonies where the bride's expression suggested resignation rather than joy. A carved relief showing a lady restrained by a man whose face remained unseen. Juniper slowed, unease prickling beneath her skin.
"This academy honors decorum, what a rich statement," she murmured softly, recalling the headmaster's speech. She reached the end of the corridor where a tall arched window overlooked the inner campus grounds. Outside, she expected manicured gardens or training fields. Instead, she saw another building.
It stood fully within the gated campus, yet felt separate in spirit. Once a wine storage manor, the structure had been repurposed into a dormitory, its stone walls overtaken by thick vines and flowering plants. Hyacinths bloomed near windows, violets crept along ledges, and marigolds burst defiantly through cracks. Warmth radiated from the building despite its age.
Juniper watched as two girls in brown uniforms with charcoal bows exited the building, laughing quietly together. They carried large wooden buckets with ease, their movements synchronized from habit rather than instruction. They disappeared around the corner, likely toward a well or water source. Juniper felt something inside her lift unexpectedly.
"That looks like where people actually live," she thought quietly. She returned to her dorm room with renewed purpose, unpacking just enough to free her hands. She remembered the kitchens she had passed earlier, tucked discreetly near service corridors. Moving quickly but carefully, she made her way there, pausing whenever nobles or staff passed by. Inside the servant kitchen, she requested a basket and permission to gather supplies, her tone respectful but firm.
"I intend to greet our neighboring dormitory properly, if you may," Juniper explained evenly.
The maid eyed her skeptically but relented, directing her toward the pantry. Juniper selected fruit carefully, rejecting any bruised or underripe pieces. She chose meats with intact marbling and wrapped everything herself with practiced precision. Her movements were efficient, familiar, shaped by years of shared labor at home. Basket prepared, she crossed the campus toward the vine-covered dormitory. She knocked loudly, ensuring her presence was unmistakable.
Voices murmured inside, cautious and alert. The door opened to reveal a tall boy with a thin frame and very dark eyes. His uniform hung loosely on him, and his expression was unreadable as he studied her carefully.
"Why does a noble require entry here?" he asked, voice calm but guarded.
Juniper met his gaze evenly. "I require nothing except introduction and goodwill tonight."
He did not move aside.
"My name is Juniperus de Ruisselet," she continued, offering her full name and house without embellishment. "I dorm next door, and I brought offerings to express goodwill between our close quarters."
He hesitated before responding. "My name is Aurore."
"That is a beautiful name," Juniper said sincerely, smiling.
"It is simply a name," Aurore replied, his tone neutral.
Juniper tilted her head slightly. "I also happen to be excellent at Jeux des Valets, should you need a good lesson in wit and luck." A flicker of something crossed his eyes before disappearing. From inside, a loud voice called out with unmistakable warmth.
"Aurore, let her inside already, because she clearly means us no harm, and I need players with real money!"
Another voice followed, soft and inviting. "If she plays cards well, then she must teach me properly."
A third voice added dryly, "Singe is not a proper tutor as we've seen. It is a straight-forward card game, not a military exercise as he would have it, Lady Blanche."
A fourth chimed in with laughter. "He would absolutely attempt strategy regardless of the rules! Even sneak a glance at Buriq's cards from his blind side, haha!"
Aurore exhaled slowly and stepped aside. His expression refused to change from its unreadable walls. Before Juniper could move, a girl with caramel brown hair and striking sapphire eyes appeared, her presence immediately commanding attention. She wore the same plain uniform, yet it seemed transformed by her bearing alone. The girl smiled brightly and took Juniper's hand without hesitation. She remembered spotting out the striking beauty of the girl in the orientation hall.
"I am Panette," she said warmly, her name translating quite literally to "bread." Juniper paused for a brief, distracted moment, noting that Panette's given name was more commonly used as a surname. The detail lingered oddly, suggesting it might be a nickname or a name given by someone outside her family, though only time would tell.
"Please come inside, my lady," Panette added with a gentle smile. "Or would you prefer another title?"
Juniper allowed herself to be pulled forward, her heart beating faster. "Juniper is completely acceptable," she replied, her face breaking into a genuine smile under the weight of Panette's infectious charm. As she crossed the threshold, she became acutely aware of something she could not immediately explain. Panette's hand was soft, unexpectedly so, lacking the roughness Juniper instinctively associated with hauling water or laboring outdoors. The contradiction lingered in her thoughts even as the door shut behind her.
Inside, the dormitory revealed itself as a shared living space shaped by necessity rather than comfort, yet maintained with pride. A long wooden table dominated the center of the room, clearly serving as both workspace and dining area, its surface marked with knife scars and ink stains alike. Bundles of herbs hung near the hearth, drying slowly in the warmth, while tools were stacked neatly against one wall, each returned to its proper place. Books occupied nearly every available surface, piled with care rather than neglect.
Six other students watched her with guarded attention, their postures alert but not hostile, as though accustomed to defending their space without provoking conflict. Singe stepped forward with an unmistakable presence, albeit only standing roughly 162 cm, broad shoulders rolling as if he were claiming the room through movement alone. "Name's Singe! Since I am apparently the one who speaks loudest," he announced cheerfully, "I will do the honors." He gestured broadly around the room, nearly clipping a hanging ladle with his elbow. "This is our delightful kingdom of scholarship and poor accolades!"
A tall boy lingered near the far wall, arms crossed loosely, his attention sharp despite his stillness. Juniper noticed him observing rather than participating, his dark eyes following the room with quiet calculation. Aurore, the same boy who had answered the door.
Singe continued unabated. "You have already met Panette, who cooks like an angel, is a goddess, and refuses to let anyone starve on principle!" Panette waved dismissively while adjusting the grill near the furnace. "Blanche is the other fair maiden brave enough to live among us brutish animals." In jest, he made a silly face to imitate a monkey, and Juniper found it amicable.Blanche stepped forward with graceful composure, her posture refined in a way Juniper recognized instantly, though she could not place why. "It is a pleasure, My Lady," Blanche said, offering a small, practiced bow. "I am of common birth, as to extinguish any future misunderstandings."
Juniper blinked before she could stop herself. Blanche's mannerisms were those of an earl's daughter, polished and instinctive, not something easily learned through imitation alone. Her hands were only lightly calloused, though Juniper could tell they were strong enough to haul heavy water buckets without complaint. Sandy blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, a neat braid woven across her crown like a headband. Her pale blue eyes were calm and observant, and unlike Panette, she wore subtle makeup, a faint lip tint and fine powder that reflected the hearthlight gently across her skin.
"I am familiar with your territory," Blanche continued warmly. "Our region imports your donut peaches for jam. I adore them! They are sweet and versatile, perfect for pastries."
At that, a boy with one clouded eye leaned forward far too eagerly. "If I could get my hands on peaches like that," he said dreamily, wiping his mouth, "I would make the finest tarte aux pêches you have ever tasted!"
"Bariq," Blanche said lightly, though there was a warning beneath her tone, "do remember that you should not interrupt nor advertise your gluttony so openly."
He straightened sheepishly. "Apologies. I am Bariq." His appearance was striking in an unconventional way, long narrow features scattered with freckles across every exposed inch of skin. Thick curls of brown hair framed his face, and his winter gray eyes held a restless intelligence. His heritage, like Aurore's, suggested mixed origins, though he carried the warmth of desert sands rather than eastern plains. Even as introductions continued, Bariq was already moving through the kitchen, slicing and sorting ingredients with practiced efficiency.
"Do not stop whisking that cream," Bariq snapped toward Singe, "or we will not have dessert!"
Singe grinned unabashedly. Short in stature but broad in build, his square features and heavy brows gave him an unmistakable presence. His brown hair fell thickly around his face, sideburns framing a nearly connected brow, and his smile was radiant enough to make the dim room feel warmer. "See, Aurore," he said, "she already paid for her meal ticket, giving us more dessert for tomorrow night!"
Juniper set the basket down where Blanche directed her, and both Blanche and Bariq paused, eyes lighting up at the sight of quality cuts of meat. Singe clasped his hands together theatrically. "You are welcome to stay for dinner," he declared. "However, after we eat, you should prepare yourself. I will show you that cards are not ruled by luck, only superior strategy!"
A boy only slightly taller than Singe knocked him lightly on the head. "Remember she is still a noble," he said dryly. "You would land yourself in jail if you forget that, and be accused of a scam."
This boy had his hair completely concealed beneath a La Canut, fabric wrapping his head and ears securely. His features were delicate and precise, almost doll-like, with eyes so sharply defined they seemed painted by a careful hand. His hands and feet were conspicuously large for his body, giving him a slightly cartoonish silhouette. Catching Juniper's gaze on his hands, he quickly shoved them into his pockets, and she looked away immediately, chastened by her own curiosity.
"I am Cerise, My Lady," he said quietly.
Aurore finally shifted from the wall, his tall frame emphasizing how thin he truly was. His short dark hair was kept neatly, his plain features blending into the background by design rather than accident. His presence anchored the room without effort, and when his gaze settled on Juniper, she felt as though he could see through her easily if he chose.
Another boy hovered near the edge of the group, trembling visibly as if resisting the urge to flee. His dark hair was braided neatly, and his wide eyes carried the skittish alertness of a startled deer. His northern features stood in contrast to the rest of the room.
"Would it be alright to approach him," Juniper asked Cerise gently, "or would that be too much?"
Cerise blinked, clearly startled by the attention, then reached out with a quiet decisiveness and gently tugged the trembling boy closer to him, placing himself half a step in front without fully shielding him. "This is Espoir," he said, his voice even but careful. "It took most of the day just to learn his name, so please consider that progress." He hesitated, then added, as though preempting judgment, "He is practicing being around strangers. We did not force him, My Lady."
Espoir's shoulders tightened, his hands twisting nervously in the fabric of his sleeves as though he might fold in on himself if watched too closely. His eyes flicked toward Juniper, then away again, lingering on the floorboards with almost painful concentration.
Juniper softened immediately, lowering her posture just slightly so she did not loom. "That is admirable," she said sincerely, her voice gentle but clear. "Working on oneself rather than surrendering to fear takes far more courage than most people ever acknowledge."
Espoir's breath hitched, his trembling growing more pronounced, though whether from nerves or emotion Juniper could not tell. He did not speak, but something in his expression shifted, as though her words had landed somewhere deep and unfamiliar.
A soft, quiet laugh broke the moment, drawing Juniper's attention back toward the far wall. Aurore's mouth curved faintly, his dark eyes reflecting something between amusement and approval. "You do not need to try so hard," he said calmly. "You are already invited to dinner."
Juniper straightened, a spark returning to her eyes. "I am not finished earning your trust yet," she replied, unable to resist the challenge in her tone. "You should try my cooking before you commend your judgment so generously. I was also the fastest basket weaver in my age group back home, so I promise I am not all talk!"
Aurore stepped closer, his long stride unhurried, and reached out to pat her head lightly, the gesture casual but deliberate. "Congratulations," he said, mockery softened by familiarity. "Those four village children indulged your ego far too much."
She swatted his hand away without hesitation, scowling at him. "That place is reserved, Sir!"
Cerise, watching the exchange with open curiosity, tilted his head. "For whom?"
"My knight," Juniper replied instantly, the words leaving her mouth before she fully realized how naturally they came.
Aurore raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. "I did not think you had one accompanying you."
"He is…becoming one," she admitted, her cheeks warming despite herself. "At the knight academy. But everyone back home agrees he is more honorable and capable than any title could ever express."
Panette paused mid-turn at the grill, smoke curling lazily around her as she glanced over her shoulder. "Is he special enough...," she asked with honest curiosity,"...to touch his lady's head like that?"
Juniper's face flushed deeper. "He is my brother," she clarified quickly. "Not by blood."
The tension eased almost immediately, a collective understanding settling across the room like a shared exhale. Even Espoir's shoulders lowered slightly, as though reassured by the normalcy of the explanation. Juniper took a slow breath and smiled again, feeling something settle into place within her chest, a quiet certainty forming where unease had once lingered. For the first time since her arrival, she did not feel like a guest standing on uncertain ground.
"This," she thought with growing clarity, "is where the story truly begins."
And as the evening continued, voices overlapping and warmth filling the space, the weight of that realization remained with her, threaded with determination and cautious hope, while beyond the walls the academy gates closed quietly behind them all.