Professor Dexter's voice was calm, gentle, but carried weight that made every ear sharpen.
"Princess Dila," he said again, his tone firm yet kind, "what makes you enroll in this academy? May I have a word from you?" His lips curved into a faint, steady smile, his staff resting lightly by his side.
The question struck the entire room like a bell. The other students' eyes widened in unison. Not once had the professor asked them such a personal question. Murmurs spread quickly, but then stilled as their eyes locked on the silver-haired elf princess.
Dila froze in her place. "A… a…" she muttered softly, her voice trembling. She glanced around the hall, seeing dozens of curious eyes staring straight at her. Her palms grew damp, and a thin bead of sweat traced down her temple. She swallowed hard, heart racing beneath her uniform as if it wanted to leap out.
