Yesterday's conversation with Dylan about his origins had deeply moved Rose.
So deeply that she tossed and turned all night, replaying his words in her head.
Now her attitude towards her roommate had changed.
Or rather, she finally understood the reasons for his seemingly strange behavior.
He wasn't an arrogant snob who looked down on everyone at all. He was simply a frightened, lonely young man trying to protect himself from a hostile world in the only way available — by building a wall.
And now, after they had opened up to each other a little, the atmosphere in their room was no longer tense. That cold, alienated vacuum that had previously separated their beds had disappeared.
Rose even caught herself thinking that they might get along. Become if not friends, then at least acquaintances.
And that was progress already.
***
The next day, during the lunch break, Rose sat in the cafeteria absently poking her fork into a chicken salad.
Her thoughts were far away.
She kept looking around, searching for someone in the crowd of students.
"Ruven," Dennis, sitting nearby, noticed this. "You seem distracted today. Are you looking for someone?"
Their group was unusually quiet today. Zeke, the main source of noise and chaos, was stuck in the infirmary — they were changing the bandages on his broken arm. So only Rose, Dennis, and Richard remained at the table, and Richard, in Zeke's absence, was surprisingly calm.
Rose snapped out of it and quickly replied:
"Huh? Yeah... I was just thinking... Do you happen to know where Dylan usually eats lunch? I've never seen him in the cafeteria."
It was true. From the very first day, Rose had never once spotted her roommate among the dining students. And that was strange — practically the entire academy gathered here during the lunch break.
Ricky blinked in surprise.
"You don't know?"
"Don't know what?"
"Dylan Arkwright never goes to the cafeteria," the guy declared in a tone used for stating obvious facts.
"What?" Rose frowned. "Why?"
"Well..." Ricky scratched the back of his head. "Probably because the food here is expensive. And he's a commoner. Can't afford it."
Rose was taken aback.
"So where does he eat then?!"
"I have no idea," Ricky shrugged. "We're not that close. But you're his roommate. You should know better."
Rose fell silent, bewildered.
She didn't know.
She hadn't thought about it at all.
And now, thinking about it, she realized she had no idea where or what her roommate ate.
***
That evening, returning to the dormitory, Rose found Dylan at his desk. The guy was writing something intently, bent over his notebooks.
Today he had come earlier than usual.
Rose hesitated at the door but then decided.
"Dylan," she called out. "Sorry for prying, but can I ask you something?"
Dylan looked up.
"Ask."
"Where do you usually eat lunch? I've never seen you in the cafeteria."
Dylan raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Why does that interest you?"
"Just curious," Rose quickly waved her hands. "If you don't want to answer, you don't have to!"
Dylan sighed and set down his pen.
"I buy food at the academy shop," he replied.
"The shop?"
"You didn't know? There's a store on the grounds that sells food and various small items. I usually get food there."
Rose genuinely didn't know. She had a vague idea of the academy's layout, limited to the route "dormitory — cafeteria — academic building."
"But why there?" she continued to press. "Isn't the cafeteria more convenient?"
Dylan was silent for a moment, then answered:
"Because it's cheaper there."
Rose froze.
Ah, right. Of course.
The food in the cafeteria was paid. And not cheap. The academy administration clearly didn't miss an opportunity to squeeze more money out of the wealthy students' wallets.
For most students here, that wasn't a problem. They were children of wealthy aristocrats, for whom the cafeteria prices were mere pocket change.
But for those like Dylan... and Rose herself... this was a significant expense.
Rose tried to save money too. She took the cheapest dishes, refused desserts and extra snacks. But even so, her monthly allowance was dwindling before her eyes.
And Dylan, apparently, had it even worse.
"I see," she said quietly. "What did you eat today?"
"What?"
"Well... I'm just curious. I had chicken salad for lunch today. And eggs for breakfast. What about you?"
Dylan hesitated.
"I... usually eat once a day."
"Once?!" Rose's eyes widened. "But that's not enough!"
"It's enough," Dylan shrugged. "I haven't eaten yet today, but I bought food. I'll eat later, when I finish my assignments."
Rose felt something turn over inside her.
Not eat all day? And still study, do assignments, and remain the best in the course? That took incredible willpower!
"And what did you buy?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Dylan rummaged in his bag and produced... a bun. And a carton of banana milk.
"That's probably dessert?" Rose guessed.
"No," Dylan replied calmly. "That's my lunch."
"What?!"
"This is all I'll be eating today."
Rose froze.
She looked at the bun, at the milk, at Dylan's calm face — and felt the ground give way beneath her feet.
"And... and on other days, it's the same?" she forced out.
"Usually, yes."
"But... why?" Rose's voice wavered.
Dylan sighed, as if explaining obvious truths.
"I'm a commoner," he said patiently. "I don't have wealthy parents sending money. I live on a scholarship. And I have to save to send some money home. My mother is sick, the younger ones need to eat."
Rose was silent.
A vivid, painful memory flashed in her mind.
Her first day at the academy. She, hungry after the journey, notices a bun and strawberry milk on Dylan's table. She thinks: "He's already had dinner in the cafeteria, he won't mind." And she eats it all. Down to the last crumb. Down to the last sip.
Then she leaves a couple of coins, naively thinking that's enough.
She had stolen his food.
From a guy who saves on everything to feed his sick mother and younger siblings.
From a guy who survives on one bun a day.
From a guy who, despite all this, studies better than anyone in the academy.
Rose felt like utter scum.
No, worse. She was worse than the devil himself!
"I'm sorry..." she breathed out and suddenly bowed deeply. "I'm truly so sorry!"
Dylan was taken aback.
"What's wrong with you?"
"I didn't know!" Rose's voice held genuine remorse. "That first day, I ate your bun and drank your milk! I thought you'd already had dinner, that it was just a snack... But it was your only meal! Please forgive me!"
Dylan looked at her in bewilderment.
"You're upset about this?"
"Yes!" Rose raised her head. Tears glistened in her violet eyes. "I did something terrible! If I had known... I never would have... How can I make it up to you? Tell me! I'm ready to do anything!"
Dylan was silent.
One second. Another. A third.
And then...
"Ha ha."
A quiet, light laugh.
Rose froze.
She raised her head and saw that Dylan... was smiling.
Not that cold, detached half-smile she had noticed before. But a real, warm, almost mischievous smile.
"Anything?" he repeated, and laughter danced in his grey eyes. "Are you really ready for any punishment?"