A few moments ago,
Yuna's boots clicked softly against the academy's polished stone floors as she navigated through the corridors, her cat ears twitching with each distant sound.
Her tail swished behind her in agitation as she searched for Aelric.
"Where is he?" she muttered, turning another corner.
'I wanted to tell him about that move being perfected and he...'
That's when she heard it—two voices, hushed but audible, coming from around the bend ahead.
"...isn't Miss doing wrong though?" The first guard's voice carried a note of uncertainty. "Breaking the leg of the man she supposedly loves? That's just... wrong."
The second guard sighed. "What can we do? She ordered us. We're just following commands."
Yuna froze mid-step, her fist clenching at her side.
Her mind raced. The academy had always been a battlefield of sorts—not just of strength, but of hearts.
Aelric was kind to everyone, genuinely kind, without the smug superiority most nobles wore like a second skin.
