The moment Vladimir stepped into the library, the hum of whispers fell into reverent silence.
Students turned—first out of curiosity, then out of awe.
The women sighed dreamily.
The men straightened instinctively, admiring him from afar.
Tall, lean, impossibly poised, Vladimir carried with him a refined, aristocratic air that made it difficult for anyone to look away.
Every step he took was elegant—an effortless grace that seemed carved from old, noble bloodlines.
"That's… the vampire prince?"
"Shh—he's not actually a prince, but haven't you seen anyone look that good?"
"I heard he's top of the class."
"Lord Vladimir is in a league of his own…"
"He's intimidating… but I want to try talking to him."
"You? Look—other girls are already approaching!"
A small swarm of elegant students drifted toward him like moths to a flame.
"Lord Vladimir, senior, are you busy?"
"Lord Vladimir, won't you sit with us?"
