Dila dragged her steps forward, her silver hair swaying as her grip on Fran's hand slackened. She let out a long, tired sigh that echoed faintly against the high-arched ceiling.
"At this rate… we will never… absolutely gonna make it… haaaa…" she muttered, her shoulders drooping as though the weight of the academy itself pressed down on her.
She turned her head, ready to groan at another empty corridor, when a cheerful laugh suddenly broke the silence.
"Hahaha… Princess, are you lost?"
There, leaning casually against the wall with a hand resting on his belt, stood the squire boy. His smile carried a teasing warmth, his posture relaxed, as if he had been watching their little struggle for longer than he should have.
Dila froze mid-step. Her expression shifted instantly into a flat deadpan, her blue eyes narrowing at him like twin blades of ice.
"Yeah," she said dryly, her voice dripping with annoyance. "Where were you when I needed you?"
