The carriage rolled along, arriving once again at the Royal Academy—the same place Rest had visited a month prior for his entrance exams.
Rest stepped out first, offering his hands to help Viola and Primula down from the carriage.
A large crowd of boys and girls in crisp uniforms milled about the academy gates. Trees flanking the entrance, strikingly similar to cherry blossoms, showered the ground with white petals.
"Is that… someone from the House of Marquis Rosemary?"
"Yeah, those are the famous beauties, the Rosemary sisters."
"Who’s that guy with them? An attendant?"
Upon seeing the sisters descend, a stir arose among the students gathered at the gates. They let out sighs of admiration as they gazed at Viola and Primula, before turning dubious eyes toward Rest.
"Could he be their lover or something?"
"No way. He’s probably a servant or a guard."
I knew it... I really am out of place here, Rest thought, inwardly agreeing with the whispers.
He was painfully aware of the gap between them. Between the highborn sisters and a boy like himself—born to an honorary noble and a commoner—the very air they carried was fundamentally different.
"Come now, let us head inside," Viola said.
"Please, escort us," Primula added.
"Whoa—"
Heedless of the surrounding gossip, Viola and Primula each grabbed one of his arms. Rest found himself walking with a sister linked to him on either side.
"What…?"
"You’ve got to be kidding me."
The murmurs intensified. No attendant or guard would ever be allowed such proximity. This level of intimacy was reserved for family—or perhaps fiancés.
"Stand tall, Rest," Viola whispered. "You are our fiancé, after all!"
"Surely you wouldn’t want to embarrass us, Lord Rest?" Primula added.
Rest’s eyes widened in realization. If he slunk along with his shoulders hunched in hesitation, he would only bring shame upon the two girls.
I can’t let that happen. I have to stand tall and act with enough dignity that no one dares look down on me!
It was wrong to indulge in an inferiority complex and force them to hold back for his sake. Rest took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and straightened his spine until he was standing perfectly upright.
With a sister on each arm, he began to walk toward the school building with a newfound, commanding presence.
These girls are mine. Anyone have a problem with that?
His sudden shift in demeanor worked; the crowd that had been sneering just moments ago instinctively stepped back to make a path. The trio moved toward the auditorium with effortless grace.
"That’s much better, Rest. Keep it up," Viola praised him in a low voice.
"You look very dashing, Lord Rest," Primula added.
"To be honest… I’m so unused to this that the feeling of being out of place is overwhelming," Rest admitted quietly.
"Noble dignity is really just a form of fashion," Viola explained. "If you believe it’s only natural for people to look up to you, the air of authority will follow."
"Since you are our fiancé, Lord Rest, you can afford to have much, much more confidence. Keep your head held high."
"……I understand."
Flanked by the sisters, Rest entered the auditorium. Rows of chairs had already been set out, and since there were no assigned seats, the three of them sat together in a row near the center aisle.
"The ceremony is finally starting, huh…"
"Yes. It seems there will be a speech from the Academy Director, followed by a representative greeting from the valedictorian."
"I heard the top student of the Magic Department is the daughter of the House of Duke Crocus," Primula noted.
Rest recognized the name. As part of his education for marrying into a Marquis house, he had studied the major noble families.
Duke Crocus was the current Prime Minister and the King's closest confidant. He was a high noble who reigned at the pinnacle of national politics. His standing was superior to even the "Two Wings" of the kingdom—Marquis Rosemary, the Chief of the Court Mages, and Marquis Catreia, the Knight Commander. He was the leading noble of the realm, answering only to royalty.
Before long, the auditorium filled to capacity, signaling the start of the ceremony. An elderly man in a suit appeared on the stage at the back of the hall, his voice amplified by magic.
"Order! Quiet, everyone! We shall now commence the sixty-fifth Royal Academy Entrance Ceremony!"
At the teacher’s command, the buzzing of the crowd died down. Rest and the sisters ceased their conversation and turned their attention to the stage.
"And now, a greeting from the Academy Director. Everyone, please rise!"
The new students stood as one. Prompted by the teacher, the Academy Director, Verloid Hahn, stepped onto the stage with a solemn, dignified air.