The Noisy Classroom
The lunch bell rings loudly. Yet, Rio hasn't moved an inch from his spot: arms folded on the desk, head tilted to the side, sleeping soundly as if the classroom were his own private bedroom.
Ellen had already bolted to the cafeteria. She knew better than to try and wake Rio—honestly, she just didn't have the energy for it today.
Suddenly, the rowdy atmosphere of the room turns dead silent. One by one, students step aside, clearing a path automatically like the parting of the sea.
Lylya Minakaya enters.
Her gait is graceful, her uniform pristine without a single wrinkle. She doesn't head for the elite cafeteria or join the school's socialite circles. Instead, she walks straight to the corner of the class, toward the messiest desk in the room.
Small Talk (With Heavy Undertones)
Lylya stands tall beside Rio's desk. She doesn't wake him immediately. Her eyes linger on his messy hair for a moment before her fingers finally tap the surface of the desk in a slow, rhythmic beat.
Tap. Tap.
Rio groans. One eye flutters open, immediately met by the sight of expensive, polished shoes right next to his desk.
"It's break time, Rio," she says, her tone firm. "You haven't eaten since this morning."
Rio doesn't get up right away. Instead, he turns his head the other way, avoiding Lylya's gaze. "Not hungry. My stomach is still traumatized by what happened this morning."
Lylya lets out a sigh—a soft sound heard only by someone standing as close as he was.
"You always have an excuse to neglect yourself."
"I care," Rio mumbles hoarsely. "I care about my lack of sleep."
Without a word, Lylya places a small, elegant lunch box on Rio's desk. "Eat. I don't want to receive a report that you fainted from an ulcer."
Rio finally gives in and sits up straight. He looks back and forth between the lunch box and Lylya's face.
"What is it this time? Royal protocols? Or another conference schedule?"
Lylya remains silent for a beat. Her eyes, usually cold as ice, seem to waver for a split second.
"I just wanted to make sure... that you are still 'here'."
Around them, the students' whispers begin to heat up:
"Whoa... what's going on? The school idol is actually talking to him? Dammit, he's so lucky."
They could only guess, never knowing that the two people before them were actually fiancé and fiancée.
Rio is stunned. He knows exactly what she means by being "here." It wasn't just about his physical presence; it was about his consciousness, which had been "drifting" toward other dimensions lately.
Rio quickly shifts his gaze toward the window. "Heh. Quite the worrier, aren't you?" he whispers.
Lylya doesn't answer. She simply stands there, the center of gravity for the entire class, while everyone else pretends to be busy while eavesdropping intently. This cold interaction always triggers a massive question for those watching: Why would a princess like Lylya bother speaking to "trash" like Rio?
"The food," Lylya reminds him again, her tone returning to its formal state. "Finish it. Or I'll have Ellen report back to me this afternoon."
"Tch. Yeah, yeah... so noisy," Rio mutters under his breath.
Lylya turns to leave. However, her steps pause for a second. Without looking back, she whispers very softly, almost swallowed by the wind blowing through the window gap.
"Don't 'daydream' too often. I don't like talking to an empty shell."
Then she leaves. Graceful, rigid, and feeling very far away.
One Crown, One Pillar
Rio stares at the lunch box in front of him. The design is simple yet incredibly elegant, looking starkly out of place on a scarred, wooden school desk. He opens it slowly. Rice balls, meat cuts, and vegetables are arranged with surgical precision.
Rio knows that behind this neatness, a princess had personally taken time out of her suffocating state schedule just to prepare this.
"One crown to lead, one pillar to support," Rio thinks, recalling the history lesson from earlier.
He takes a bite. It tastes delicious, though it feels a bit heavy as it slides down his throat.
"Vegetables? Tch. I hate these... but I guess they're not bad."
Rio eats while continuing to grumble to himself. Yet, behind his complaints lies a sincere compliment. Amidst the noise of the classroom, he feels like the luckiest person who never actually wanted to be lucky; he just wanted to be ordinary.
After finishing, Rio buries his head back on the desk. Hidden behind the fold of his uniform sleeve, a small, faint smile appears—a rare and honest expression of how he truly feels.
T/L: Rio is basically the definition of "suffering from success." Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! :)
[CHAPTER 2 – END]