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Chapter 24
The chandelier glittered from the ceiling, scattering light in every direction. Some of the pieces had even been imported from outside the kingdom. The marble used for the pillars and floor came from the northern Tanik Kingdom, and the ornate stained-glass windows followed the style of the southern Terin Empire.
The food laid out on the long table in the corner was equally luxurious. Perhaps because most of the attendees were students, there was no alcohol—only colorful fruit drinks served in gleaming glasses.
“……”
Of course, none of that splendor and beauty caught Silia’s attention. The stares that had gathered on her in an instant—and scattered just as quickly—made sure of that.
“Hm.”
She had felt them all turn their heads the moment she entered. The air was filled with the awareness of her. Silia wasn’t the only one who sensed it—Flier, Margaret, and Julin all stiffened briefly as well.
But within a few seconds, the gazes dispersed like an ebbing tide.
As if deliberately ignoring her.
“Julin, by any chance…”
“Are those the academic students over there?”
Someone interrupted before she could finish calling Julin. A neatly dressed woman with her hair tied up and a register in her hand approached them.
“Those in the academic division, please come this way for introductions.”
“Yes, we’ll be right there,” Margaret replied. Julin hesitated for a moment.
“I’ll be back in a bit. Silia, why?”
“It’s fine. Go on.”
Seeing the woman’s hurried expression, Silia shook her head. If she stopped Julin just to satisfy her curiosity, she’d probably lose her entirely. The woman looked too busy to linger—she was already motioning to other arriving students, asking if they were from the academic division.
“Then I’ll go.”
After Julin and Margaret excused themselves and followed the woman away, Flier turned back to Silia.
“You haven’t chosen a specialization yet, have you?”
That was true. To be precise, she didn’t belong to any division yet.
“For now.”
“Then, to help you decide, perhaps I could show you both the swordsmanship and magic divisions—”
“Countess Diaman.”
A group of middle-aged men appeared from nowhere, all wearing the same greedy expressions. The thin man in front didn’t even give Flier time to respond before leaning in.
“Our family happens to have a fine young son, just about your age. Ah—there he is now! You should meet him.”
Just as she expected.
“I’m sorry, but—”
“And my boy’s over there too. My, my, the countess grows lovelier every day.”
“Ah, youth is a beautiful thing.”
“How did your figure become so fine again? Hah hah!”
The middle-aged snakes began weaving their smooth words, pulling Flier away with practiced ease. Half their remarks were practically lewd. Flier looked utterly flustered as she was swept off her feet, literally pushed away by the crowd.
Silia…!
She tried to resist, but the crowd grew too thick to push through. Her face was pitiful to see. Of course—someone with her personality would have a hard time refusing elders outright.
I’ll be right back!
Silia read her lips and simply stood still. She thought about helping her but decided against it.
“Sorry, but I’m not great at dealing with adults either.”
Flier would manage somehow.
Before long, Silia found herself alone.
Soon a circular pocket of empty space formed around her—blatant, deliberate isolation.
But she wasn’t startled or upset. She was used to this sort of thing—being ignored, pushed aside. She’d been tempered enough by debt collectors that her mental fortitude was solid.
“Hostility is easy enough to handle.”
In a way, she even felt more comfortable alone.
The funny thing was—though they avoided her eyes, she could still feel people stealing glances her way. She turned naturally, as if just surveying the hall.
“Why are you alone?”
“?”
A tall, dark-haired man had approached her. His eyes were as black as his hair, and his face was slim—he looked a few years older than her, probably early to mid-twenties. His slicked-back, oily hairstyle was oddly familiar.
Let’s see… not bad, but…
After seeing the others every day, this level just looks average.
Julin, Flier, even Crondel—each of them had the kind of face that could represent the kingdom. Silia didn’t think much of it, but still, standards had a way of forming.
Then the man said, with a smirk:
“A person who wasn’t even formally invited, standing here without a companion?”
Silia immediately shot back,
“I was invited.”
By the princess herself, no less.
“Pardon?”
“You can check if you like.”
The man faltered, then composed himself again—clearly changing tactics.
“The Diaman family must be shameless, leaving a guest without any escort.”
Silia tilted her head and stared right at him.
“And you are…?”
“…How rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself—Alec Phillips, of the Phillips family.”
As she suspected.
That slick, greasy air and arrogant tone—he reminded her exactly of Ingram Phillips.
Right, he did say he had two older brothers and a sister.
So this must be one of the older brothers. Ingram himself was nowhere to be seen—either too ashamed to show his face after his humiliation, or watching this conversation from somewhere.
“Hm.”
Indeed, in a distant corner she could spot members of the Phillips family keeping their eyes on them. Ingram was probably hiding among them.
Meanwhile, more and more gazes were turning their way. People, bored of the dull banquet, had found something interesting to watch.
Sure. Nothing like someone else’s argument to spice things up.
Silia exhaled slowly. Since he had introduced himself, it was her turn.
“I’m Silia Bronyu, of the Bronyu Barony. Technically, a lesser baron.”
“A new noble house? I don’t believe I’ve heard of it.”
So he was aiming for the usual polite insult—never heard of your family, must be insignificant.
Silia went straight for the throat.
“I’m not surprised. Our house went under several generations ago.”
“Haha… you’re too modest.”
“No. Just stating facts.”
Alec looked taken aback. He hadn’t expected her to admit her family’s downfall so bluntly, without a hint of shame.
“There’s no need to belittle yourself so much—”
“I’m not belittling myself.”
“……”
“So I’m thinking of rebuilding the name with the Diaman family’s help.”
Silia smiled.
After all, Bronyu’s fall was a fact. Nothing shameful about that.
But from the perspective of the Phillips family, her saying that meant one thing—Ingram had been completely crushed by a novice knight from a fallen house. For a family that prided itself on producing swordsmen, that was humiliating beyond measure. She had just turned his intended insult into a trap.
The nobles nearby began murmuring, the atmosphere subtly shifting. Alec’s expression flickered with irritation.
Should I push a bit more?
She hadn’t come here for this, but since the person she wanted to see wasn’t appearing, she might as well vent a little.
You dug this grave yourselves.
Glancing toward Flier—still surrounded by middle-aged men—Silia said,
“The Countess Diaman is so sought after; it’s no wonder she can’t spare a moment for me.”
“……”
“Ingram’s quite a talented man too, isn’t he? I’m sure he’s a popular match—especially now that his engagement to the princess has been called off.”
She emphasized called off, and Alec’s expression twisted faintly. Still, he didn’t explode like his brother. He seemed calmer, more self-controlled. When he smoothed away his slimy smile, he actually looked a bit better. But it didn’t last—he soon put on another polished grin.
“It hasn’t been officially canceled yet. Her Highness is still considering Ingram among her options.”
Silia snorted inwardly.
Did you even see the princess’s face that day? She’s erased your brother from her mind entirely.
Out loud, she replied politely,
“Oh, really? Still under review then. Well, even if it doesn’t work out, I’m sure it won’t be the end of the world.”
“……”
“The mighty Phillips family can tip any scale they please. I’m sure plenty of noble houses would fight to have Lord Ingram as a son-in-law.”
Her words carried a faint jab—the “tipping the scales” remark alluding to their attempted exam manipulation. Alec’s eyes narrowed, realizing the barb.
“Tipping the scales, you say? Not quite as boldly as you, Lady Silia.”
“Of course, I’m more of a table-flipper myself.”
“Hah. You’re as bold as they say. But too much confidence can turn to arrogance—especially when one relies on trickery.”
What nonsense is this now?
Alec’s smile twisted.
“I heard you used tricks during the entrance exams. Using magic against a swordsman is hardly honorable.”
Silia’s expression said she understood now.
So that’s the story—they’re claiming I beat Ingram only because I cheated with magic.
In reality, she had used pure physical force—wind from her sword alone—to defeat him. But she knew that explanation would fall on deaf ears. So she countered differently.
“If that were an issue, I wouldn’t have been granted admission. I demonstrated the qualities of a magic swordsman, and since magic swordsmen are recognized under the swordsmanship division, that seems legitimate to me.”
“Even so, using magic to confuse a swordsman isn’t exactly honorable.”
The man wasn’t backing down.
And now, the atmosphere of the hall began to shift—tense and curious. Everyone could sense that the conversation was turning sharp.
