"Now then... we'd like to introduce the new members of the Student Council to all of you." Roderika's voice echoed confidently across the grand lecture hall.
The president of the Student Council—Roderika Randall, the infamous Scarlet Empress—stood under the stage lights like a marble goddess: radiant, cold, and utterly captivating. Her scarlet curls cascaded over her shoulders, and her tight uniform hugged every graceful curve of her figure.
"First, in charge of Disciplinary Affairs—Silva Steinert."
"Yes!" A firm, clear voice answered from the side curtain.
Silva stepped forward, her posture flawless and dignified. Her long, golden-blonde hair shone like silk under the lights, perfectly framing her icy blue eyes. Her uniform clung to her lithe body, and the white stockings she wore accentuated the aristocratic elegance in her steps.
The Blue Ice Princess. That nickname rippled through the crowd in hushed whispers. Her beauty was sharp and untouchable, like a snow-covered blade.
"I am Silva Steinert. This is my first time joining the Student Council. Though I'm still young and have much to learn, I vow to uphold the discipline of the Roshar Dragonborn Academy with everything I have. I hope you'll all support me from now on."
Her tone was soft and composed, but her words carried weight. For once, the haughty air that always clung to her seemed to melt away. She bowed gracefully, her skirt fluttering just enough to reveal the lace hem of her garter belt to those watching too intently.
The audience erupted in thunderous applause. Silva blushed faintly, clearly not used to such earnest reception. Her cool façade cracked—just slightly—as she hurried offstage, flustered.
"Your speech was great," Zack, now dressed sharply in his newly issued Student Council uniform, grinned cheekily. He had been waiting behind the curtain and couldn't help but tease Silva as she passed.
"There's nothing great about it..." Her blush deepened, and she averted her gaze. Even her porcelain-like cheeks flushed delicately. She was not used to being complimented, especially not by someone like Zack. She scowled—more out of embarrassment than anger. "Mind your own business! You're up next. Are you even ready for this?"
"Th-That's…" Zack scratched the back of his head, his usual bravado slipping. As the academy's most notorious "problem child," this was his first time standing on stage in any formal setting. Of course he was nervous. "...I'm kinda jealous, Princess. You don't even seem to know what nerves are."
"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I was nervous."
Zack blinked in surprise at her unexpected honesty.
"I may be a royal, raised to stand at ceremonies and balls, but even I feel tense sometimes. I'm just good at hiding it."
"I see..." Zack laughed, suddenly more at ease. "So even Her Royal Highness gets butterflies. Maybe it's okay for a commoner like me to be scared too."
Silva bit her lip, then turned her head with a slight smile she tried—and failed—to hide. "It's not a big deal. Don't thank me for something that trivial."
Roderika's voice rang out again across the hall.
"And now... the academy's Number One Problem Child—newly reformed and now in charge of General Affairs—Zack Blake!"
The room erupted in shocked murmurs. Zack stepped onto the stage to an atmosphere that felt like a live grenade had been thrown into the crowd.
"General Affairs basically means you help with anything. No matter the trouble, feel free to come to Zack."
Roderika's teasing words only added fuel to the fire.
Zack took center stage, his heart pounding. The massive hall was filled with over 400 students—from freshmen to seniors—all staring at him.
"Shit..." He felt like his legs were about to buckle.
His eyes briefly drifted to his bandaged left arm. Beneath it lay the fang mark. But Zack's was different. His covered nearly his entire arm, an unusual anomaly that had made him a target of both curiosity and scorn. He always kept it hidden, even wrapping the bandage tighter that morning to be extra careful.
Still, he could feel dozens of eyes lingering on it.
"Hey... pull yourself together." A soft voice brushed his ear like a feather.
Zack turned his head, pretending it was just casual. Silva stood just behind the curtain, hand pressed to her chest, watching him with quiet intensity. She nodded slowly.
His heart leapt. She's... rooting for me?
That small gesture gave him strength.
Zack faced the crowd again and took a deep breath. "Uh… My name is Zack Blake. I just joined the Student Council as General Affairs officer. I honestly don't know what I'm doing, but… I'll give it everything I've got. So please, take care of me!"
He bowed deeply. A long second passed.
Then another.
Silence. Am I really that hated?
Just as doubt began to creep in—
Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap—he looked up, and Silva was clapping for him.
Then, Roderika joined.
After a few seconds, the rest of the room, wave by wave. Applause rippled outward, until the entire hall shook with cheers. Zack glanced toward his friends—Rayleigh and Matt—grinning and whistling from the crowd.
"Everyone..." The warmth in his chest was too much to contain.
The applause swelled—loud, enthusiastic, and somehow just as loud as the applause Silva had received. And for the first time in a long time... Zack smiled without restraint.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.༄
Zack exhaled in relief as he stepped behind the side curtain, the wave of applause still echoing faintly behind him.
"Hmm... That was acceptable. Barely." Silva's familiar icy tone returned in an instant, as if reclaiming its rightful place the moment he was offstage.
She crossed her arms beneath her ample chest. Her gaze was cool, but the faint blush lingering on her cheeks betrayed her true feelings. Still, Zack decided to interpret her words as praise.
"It's thanks to you, Princess." He offered her a cheeky grin. "But… where's Ico? She hasn't shown up yet, has she?"
That thought sent a small jolt of concern through him. The ceremony wasn't just about him and Silva—it was meant to introduce all the new members of the Student Council. And that included Ico.
She was supposed to be standing with them by now, waiting nervously for her cue. But there was no sign of her.
"She's late," Silva muttered, a crease forming between her brows. "Hopefully Shanon hasn't gotten too carried away..."
Shanon—her personal maid dispatched from the Steinert estate to serve as both aide and occasional babysitter—had a reputation for being a little too enthusiastic when it came to fashion. Earlier, Zack had asked her to help Ico prepare for her appearance.
"I'll take care of her outfit personally!" Shanon had declared with sparkling eyes, clasping her hands together as if about to dress a life-sized doll.
But that had been two hours ago.
"Does it really take this long to pick out clothes?" Zack muttered, frowning.
Silva sighed and shook her head.
"You don't understand. Shanon doesn't just pick outfits—she creates entire events. The moment she sees a pretty girl like Ico, she goes into full stylist mode. Lingerie, stockings, accessories… she'll probably force her into five different outfits before she lets her come out."
Zack raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you speak from experience."
Silva let out a frustrated groan and buried her face in her hands, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders like a silken curtain. "Please… don't make me remember that."
Despite himself, Zack chuckled at the image.
He could picture it: Silva, proud noble of the Steinert family, standing awkwardly in a frilly corset and thigh-highs, Shanon fussing over the angle of her garter clips. The thought was so absurdly erotic he had to quickly shake it from his head before it got out of hand.
"Still," he said, clearing his throat, "Ico's not really the type to fuss over clothes either. She's probably struggling just to keep up with Shanon's... ambitions."
"Poor girl..."
But even as she spoke, a soft breeze seemed to pass through the air behind the curtain.