Elizabeth stood on the balcony, her eyes watching the dazzling magic displays lighting up the skies over Draac. The fireworks were brilliant—spectacular illusions of mythical beasts, bursts of colored light that danced through the air. The music and cheers from the people made her ears throb.

Yet, despite the awe in the faces of the people gathered for the festival, she could barely muster a smile. Tomorrow was the only thing on her mind, after all it was the day of the entrance exam.

Her gaze wandered idly from the displays to the streets below, where people from all walks of life had gathered to celebrate the beginning of the school year. She leaned against the ornate railing, barely caring for everything as Arthur, standing nearby, said nothing for the hundredth time.

He was always there, quiet and composed, as though the weight of his own future didn’t faze him at all. Elizabeth wasn’t sure if that made him boring or comforting. Maybe both.

She turned to glance at him, his blonde hair not tousled. To a noble, that kind of display in front of the princess would be unthinkable but he was so high ranking he didn’t have to play that kind of game anymore. His face was calm and impassive, barely reacting to the festival. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes focused somewhere distant.

Elizabeth knew him well, by now he must’ve been daydreaming about sparring with someone or honing his swordcraft. That was the way his family raised him after all “Love the sword before all else”.

“You’re not worried at all, are you?” she asked. Arthur was a powerful magic swordsman already. Despite being only twelve, he had surpassed many adults already. People spoke of him with promise as they expected him to one day surpass his own older brother—The Queen's bodyguard.

Arthur blinked, his lips darting as if he might respond, but then, as always, he settled back into silence, his eyes moving to the sky where a series of firework spells shaped like phoenixes and dragons burst into golden embers. He finally replied with a simple, “I’m prepared.”

Elizabeth huffed quietly, her eyes closed slightly, and a smug formed on her lips. “Really? Can I ask why, Arthur Vilmo’dath?”

Arthur twitched at the mention of his full name. His gaze shifted to Elizabeth, and his eyes struck her with the most seriousness they could’ve had. “Please don’t call me that, that reminds me of my mother.”

She laughed in response, her hands holding on tighter against the railings as she looked down below. The princess always made sure to know a lot about those in her social circles—it was important to know which buttons to press and what things might be useful to know.

On the plaza below, crowds of students from the Royal Magic Academy and families gathered. However, among the moving sea of people, someone caught her attention.

It was a boy, roughly her age, standing in the middle of the street, gazing up to the fireworks with awe and excitement written across his face. There was nothing too special about his appearance besides the blood-red hair that could almost be mistaken the signature hue of the Royal Family.

For a moment, she pondered why she was even looking at him and that’s when she realized he had a bag, meaning he came from outside the city.

She gasped.

“Could he be…”

After she muttered those words, she could feel more weight being added to the railings. She looked to her side, seeing Arthur.

He squinted his eyes and placed a hand above them, it was as if he was trying to find what she just saw.

Her own eyes widened as this was an unexpected move. Was the uninterested noble going to do something tonight?

“Liz,” he said, calling her by her nickname.

“Yes?”

“I’m pretty sure it's just an amateur swordsman, no need to be so interested in it,” he said, pointing at a kid playing with a wooden sword.

Elizabeth could only bring her hand to her face as she felt her forehead veins pop. She couldn’t believe this was his interjection.

“No, I mean that red-haired kid with the bag.”

Arthur followed her gaze but seemed less intrigued than she was. “He looks like a commoner to me. Maybe a farmer’s son come to enjoy the festival.”

Elizabeth shook her head, her heart thumping louder than the distant music. “No, there’s something about him… I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

There was something in his face, his eyes, that reminded her of something.

Suddenly she gasped. He was the boy her uncle, the Duke of Frosthollow, had mentioned in his letters. He hadn’t mentioned the appearance of the boy but Princess Elizabeth had her ways of knowing stuff.

“Go fetch him!” she said to Arthur.

“Huh.”

----------------------------------------

After watching the show of lights in the sky, Erik looked around the main square of the city. There were many street vendors and attractions. it was at times like these that he cursed benign alone here, this could be so much fun with his fun.

For a moment, he thought of Eleanor. “Well, it's not like she can go over a minute without being annoying so I don’t care. I’ll find my fun alone,” Erik muttered before shaking his head. Just the thought of her spoiled his mood.

“That sounds interesting, don’t you want to meet the princess and have some fun?”

Erik froze, eyes widening as the voice came from behind him. He spun around to find a boy about his age, standing there with crossed arms. His presence was striking—blond hair that gleamed in the light of the fireworks and deep blue eyes. He wore a formal suit and had a sword on his side.

Erik’s gaze focused on the boy’s face. He had a nonchalant, almost serious, look that screamed he didn’t want to be bothered.

“Well, it doesn’t really seem like you’re having fun yourself,” Erik answered.

The boy shrugged at the comment, turning halfway around. “Perhaps. I find enjoyment in different things than most. Either way, are you coming?”

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Erik chuckled slightly, awestruck by how weird this interaction was going. However, he felt he should go with him—besides he had heard of the Princess a couple of times, she and Phillips were family so that must be why she wanted to meet him.

“Sure,” Erik extended his arm. “I’m Erik Blake by the way,” he said, waiting for a handshake.

The blonde boy looked at Erik’s hand for a few moments. Feeling the awkwardness, Erik forced a smile that he had to keep on for several more seconds before the handshake was reciprocated.

“I’m Arthur Vilmo’dath. Don’t say my last name though, it's weird and reminds me of some people,” he said before turning his back to Erik. “Now follow me, friend. I’d prefer to get this over with quickly.”

’That’s a weird name,’ Erik thought to himself as he didn’t even think he could pronounce it. Perhaps people around the capital just had weird names.

Erik followed Arthur in silence, the noise of the festival fading into the background as they moved through the streets.

They approached a grand, white marble building with towering columns and an expansive balcony that overlooked the city. Erik hesitated for a moment as they neared the entrance, noticing the imposing guards stationed at the doors.

Arthur strode ahead without a word, the guards nodding in recognition as they stepped aside to let them pass. Erik swallowed, feeling slightly out of place, but he followed Arthur through the large doors and into the building. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the pristine marble floors as they made their way upstairs.

Erik stepped onto the balcony, catching sight the sight of her.

The princess. He had heard stories, and seen her in portraits, but nothing prepared him for the reality. Her gaze felt like it could pierce through him, sharp and regal in a way that made him feel simultaneously seen and below her. He could only wonder how she even knew or recognized him.

"You're staring," came a soft voice, calm but carrying a certain authority.

Erik blinked, realizing she had spoken without even turning around. He straightened awkwardly as Elizabeth watched him with her sharp green eyes.

Despite her youth, there was something regal and composed about her, like she was already preparing for the weight of a crown. She looked far too elegant for someone their age.

"You must be Erik Blake," she said, her lips curling into a small smile. "I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while. You can sit down," she said as she did so in a chair.

“Really, have you?” Erik said with a smirk. He found it surprising that such an important person would want to meet him.

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly, her pearl-like earrings glimmered with the lights in the sky. “Yes,” she replied. “My uncle mentioned you in his letters and from there I knew that I had to meet you. He thinks you’re very talented and asked me to help you around if you need.”

A small smile curled up on his lips. ‘Thanks, Phillips,’ that man had looked out for Erik so much that he couldn’t properly thank him in person. He was one of the few people Erik had a deep respect for.

He felt a strange feeling in his gut, however. Something wasn’t adding up. How could she have recognized him when they never met?

“So, how did you know how I look like to send your… friend after me?” Erik asked.

Elizabeth's smile returned for a moment but vanished just as quickly. “Well,” she said, leaning forward slightly, her eyes locked onto his, “I have my methods for getting what I want. Either way, don’t start questioning me,” she waved a hand dismissively before her gaze softened. “I want to know about you.”

For the next while, Erik decided to entertain her—it wasn’t like he had anything better to do anyway. And so, he briefly mentioned his upbringing in the northern village, the loss of his father, and how Duke Phillip had helped him after he fell into trouble. Erik didn’t dwell on the details, keeping it simple, but it was enough for Elizabeth to understand the hardships he'd faced.

In turn, Elizabeth shared small glimpses of her own life like the pressures of royalty, the expectations placed on her as the princess, the rigorous training she had ever since she awakened her mana core, and so on. Despite the differences in their backgrounds, Erik found it somewhat fun, to share his struggles with someone and see how weird that was to them.

“Erik, what are your thoughts about the entrance exam tomorrow?” she asked, changing the topic.

Erik brought his hand to his chin, pondering for a moment. “I’m… excited, I suppose. I feel like it is the best way to see how far I’ve come in terms of magic,” despite the lingering pain in his mana pathways, Erik couldn’t help but want to test his limits and see how he compared against other talented people of his age.

As his gaze pondered on her, he could see a smile on her face. “Well, that’s quite interesting. Just like Arthur here you’re not worried at all,” she pointed at said boy.

Arthur, who had been quietly observing their exchange, stepped closer to the two.

“Oh, did I get your interest?” she asked, but he only stared at Erik.

Erik could feet a chill creep up on his spine as those blue eyes overlooked all of him. It didn’t feel threatening, just extremely weird to be eyed in silence.

“You’re strong,” Arthur finally said. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine in the exam.”

“Hoo, you think so?” Erik couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

Something about Arthur made Erik want to test his own strength against him. Call it a warrior’s instinct, but he had a feeling that Arthur wasn’t a pushover either. It made Erik smile, he wanted to challenge himself.

"Speaking of the exam, where is Eleanor? Shouldn't she be here with you? I thought uncle Phillip's daughter would attend the school as well,” Elizabeth mentioned, leaning forward.

Erik simply crossed his arms and sighed, his back rested against the chair and he looked up in the sky. “I don’t know where she is, and honestly, I don’t care.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit cold, isn’t it? I assumed you two would be closer, given everything.”

“Closer? Hardly,” Erik scoffed. “She’s made it clear that she thinks my family and I are ‘unworthy peasants’ of what her father has done to us. According to her, we’re not worth the dirt on her shoes,” he tightened his fists slightly. “So, no. I don’t care where she is, and I doubt she cares much about me either.”

Elizabeth’s expression shifted as she understood the situation. “Eleanor… well, she’s always been a bit like that. Arrogant, self-absorbed, and selfish. You’re right, Erik. It’s not your fault she treats you that way. She’s the one with the problem, not you.”

Erik blinked, surprised by the bluntness of her words. For a moment, he thought he might’ve misheard the princess—someone of her stature criticizing another noble like Eleanor. But Elizabeth’s tone remained cool and composed as if speaking an obvious truth.

“I’m sure it’s exhausting dealing with someone who can’t see beyond titles and status. People like that are a waste of time,” she added with a wave of her hand, brushing Eleanor out of the conversation entirely.

Erik couldn’t help but feel somewhat uneasy. He agreed with with her but he felt that he shouldn’t antagonize Eleanor too much.

“Yeah… it’s exhausting,” he muttered.

As he finished those words, the boy could feel a wave of tiredness washing over him. The lights in the sky had been over for a while, and they had been talking for so long.

Erik rubbed his eyes slowly, trying to keep them wide open.

Then, she stood up from her chair, as if sensing the built-up fatigue within Erik.

“The inns are probably crowded at this point of the night, and you’ll want to be well-rested for the exam tomorrow,” she said, looking out from the balcony before her gaze laid on him again. “Why not come stay at the palace? We have more than enough space, and my uncle would be pleased to know you’re taken care of.”

Erik stared at her, taken aback by the sudden invitation.

‘Well, that’s a turn that I didn’t expect.’ As someone who until a couple of years ago was but a common peasant in a remote village he had never imagined how living in the royal palace was—he couldn’t imagine what the inside of a palace was, to begin with.

Elizabeth nodded despite him not answering immediately. “It’ll be far more comfortable than scrambling for a room somewhere. Consider it my way of thanking you for the company tonight.”

Erik didn’t think twice. He had a chance to live like the high society and he wouldn’t let that pass.

“Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll take you up on that.”

Elizabeth’s smile widened, and she clapped her hands. “Excellent. You won’t regret it.”