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CHAPTER 09
Finally, Maria arrived at the long-missed Saint Teresa Women’s University, only to find that Moira—who had arrived half a day earlier—had already finished organizing the dorm.
Rosella, the roommate she shared the dorm with, greeted Maria warmly.
“Maria! Do you know how much Moira lectured me?”
No sooner had she complained than Moira smacked Rosella on the back.
“This is what happens when such a pretty young lady lives in a room like this! Honestly! How can you leave an apple peel in the trash for days in the middle of summer?”
“But Maria usually cleans it up for me…”
Rosella’s excuse only made Moira angrier.
While Moira continued cleaning and scolding, Rosella simply covered her ears.
By the time she finished complaining, the double dorm room was spotless. Thick curtains and bedding had been replaced with thin summer ones.
The rug on the floor had been removed, revealing smooth wooden planks underneath.
Since Maria and Rosella often sat or lay between their two beds chatting, a lighter summer rug was laid down again.
Meanwhile, Rosella neatly filled the cupboard with chocolate bars—made by a 500-year-old family-run chocolate shop passed down for generations.
Maria also stacked a tin box of candies she liked beside them.
After Moira left, the two sat on the new rug, sharing sweets and talking about the past week.
Their conversation naturally drifted toward summer vacation.
Rosella asked, while chewing:
“You’re going to the Varka coast too, right?”
Even outside Whitehill, attending university required a certain level of family wealth.
Saint Teresa Women’s University was even more so. Families like theirs usually spent summer vacations in Varka, a resort coast requiring long travel by train or ship.
Maria hesitated, and Rosella urged her.
“There are tons of boys waiting for you to come to Varka this year. Come on. Come with me and have fun. If you only hang out with your brother’s people, no boys will even dare approach you.”
“Isn’t that ironic? Even when other students protest and insult my father in front of me, I still shouldn’t abandon them.”
“Of course. I know you wouldn’t. You have the blue brooch.”
Maria nodded at Rosella’s words.
Rosella continued:
“But be careful. There are a lot of royalists in Varka. You never know when they might approach you and try to persuade you.”
The so-called royalists were traditionalists who wanted a return to monarchy.
Varka, Gephel’s most prestigious resort region with hundreds of islands, never fully abandoned either monarchy or republic until the end.
After much disagreement, they reached a compromise: from February to July it belonged to the Eastern Republic of Gephel, and from August to January it belonged to the monarchy.
Naturally, many traditionalists lived there.
Even the maternal family of Ingrid Lupo Scala—the former lady of the Scala family who once owned Maria’s residence—was located in western Varka.
Because of this, movement across the “ceasefire line” of Varka was not uncommon.
Most spies from western Gephel trying to undermine the republic also passed through Varka.
Maria nodded, and Rosella said:
“I mean the royalists…”
“Yeah?”
“They’re apparently really handsome.”
Maria choked slightly on her candy and hit her chest.
“Is that something you just say like that?”
She looked horrified, half shocked and half worried, and Rosella scoffed.
“What’s so surprising? Most of them are aristocratic families or gentlemen close to nobles. They probably just don’t show it at Tania University, but there are a lot of royalist supporters.”
“Well…”
It made sense. Families wealthy enough to support students at elite universities like Tania usually had noble relatives somewhere in their lineage.
Most of them had either died during the revolution or were quietly supported by western Gephel.
The civic revolution that ended when Maria was six had seen the fall of the Scala family of Bluegate—and the rise of the Chetti family in their place.
Maria detested her father Kohas Chetti’s actions and opposed his illegitimate hold on the mayor’s office. But she did not believe the revolution itself had been wrong.
Not even once.
Not even for a single moment.
Bluegate becoming such a lawless district was also the result of the Scala family squeezing the land dry to expand their casino empire.
However, she believed the execution of the entire Scala family without trial was something that should still be punished, even now. The more she studied canon law, the more she felt that way.
The mother and daughter whose bodies had washed up at the port had clearly taken their own lives out of fear of extrajudicial punishment. The son who died as a slave likely suffered the same fate.
Perhaps that was why Maria had become so absorbed in studying law.
Seeing her serious expression, Rosella tried to lighten the mood.
“Of course, I like ordinary men. Not royalists—and sorry, but not revolution supporters either.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“So what I mean is—be cautious when you see a handsome man.”
“Rosella, I’ve been living my whole life like that already.”
Maria said this very seriously, and for a moment both of them went quiet—then burst into laughter.
After that, Rosella talked about her romantic life and ideal type.
Maria had already once spoken about her first love, and beyond that there wasn’t much Rosella found interesting.
But Rosella’s love stories were always full of new drama and incidents, so they were entertaining.
During one of these conversations, Rosella took a violet-flavored candy from her tin and placed it into Maria’s box.
Maria, in return, gave her a green apple candy.
Those mismatched colors and flavors among their favorite sweets were proof of their friendship.
Maria, who had once lost her closest childhood friend, wished this friendship would never change.
For a moment, the face of that friend—who had likely passed away—flickered and overlapped with Rosella’s before fading.
Gephel was a country of summer.
The sun was strong, and orange trees lined the streets. Fruit was everywhere—cheap and sweet.
Before the long summer arrived, people spent April and May hosting outdoor parties. Rosella also often returned to the dorm drunk at dawn after attending them.
She wasn’t the only one—more than half the students were busy with parties. Even if they protested, they believed in resting properly when it was time to rest.
Maria walked through the beautiful campus filled with the overflowing season, heading to her lecture: Church Law with Professor Immelia.
Professor Immelia said that knowing canon law meant one could care for families even God could not directly intervene in.
Even without that, among all the subjects at the university, canon law had first caught Maria’s heart simply because she found it the most interesting.
She liked reading cases and applying them.
Just as Alexander enjoyed fighting from a young age, and Benedict was naturally good with numbers.
Even if they didn’t realize it themselves, Alexander and Benedict clearly had talent for fighting and numbers. As for Benedict, he was also good at gambling—though she wasn’t sure if that counted as related.
When class ended, Professor Immelia gestured for Maria to stay behind.
After the remaining students left, the professor asked:
“What do you plan to do after graduation?”
Maria answered:
“I suppose I’ll get married.”
After graduation, there would be no more freedom in Whitehill.
Maria knew that Benedict had convinced her father and brother by saying that sending her to Saint Teresa Women’s University would allow them to marry her into a powerful family.
Because there was an end, Maria had cherished this freedom and spent beautiful days at university.
Then Professor Immelia asked her:
“Have you ever considered working as a legal assistant?”
