The morning sun poured into the academy classroom through tall glass windows, casting faint streaks of gold across the tiled floor.
A soft breeze rustled the curtains, fluttering them just enough to remind everyone that despite the stillness inside, the world outside was alive and moving.
Leo Aetherwind leaned back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, posture utterly relaxed.
His expression remained unreadable—half-bored, half-indifferent—as if the world around him barely registered on his radar.
And yet, clinging to him with the stubbornness of a child who refused to be pried away, Roxanne Bladecrest wrapped herself around his arm like a vine curling around a tree. Her cheek rested against his shoulder, her soft crimson hair draping slightly over his chest. Her delicate fingers lazily traced circles on the back of his hand.
To an outsider, it looked like a scene pulled from a private moment—intimate, warm, comfortable.
But they weren't alone.
