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Chapter: 04
“Why is this damn school so slow at processing things? I clearly submitted my volunteer certificate, and now they’re telling me to hurry up. All they have to do is approve it.”
“They always say to submit the volunteer certificate three months before graduation. That’s how slow their administration is.”
“I turned mine in four months ago and it still hasn’t been approved. Who knows when they’ll get to it.”
“They’re slow with paperwork, but now they’re telling us to report any broken dorm furniture. Said they’ll replace it with new stuff.”
Each of them held a notice in hand, busy badmouthing the school.
Sonnet silently agreed as she walked past them.
Come to think of it, the usual letter hadn’t arrived.
Normally, she should have received the same notice they did—telling her to submit her volunteer certificate quickly if she wanted to graduate on time.
Sonnet had already submitted hers two months ago.
But the school had dragged its feet instead of processing it right away, claiming the administrative workload was backed up.
Maybe they’re so behind that even the notices got delayed.
As she was leaving the dorm to check properly, she saw a crowd gathered in front of the bulletin board.
Thinking it might be about grades, Sonnet pushed through the group to get closer, ignoring the strange looks people shot her.
A large notice was posted on the board. Under the bold word “Notice” was a short statement.
[Student Petro, currently in the fifth semester, is hereby penalized for unlawfully occupying school property and causing repeated psychological distress to another student. He will be held back one semester and fined 5 million marks.]
Below it was another line:
[Report Broken Furniture (Items may be replaced without notice if not reported)]
That must have been what the students were talking about earlier.
Sonnet reread the disciplinary notice.
“…causing repeated psychological distress to another student.”
Petro had definitely gone too far. Because of him, Seline had even talked about transferring schools.
While she kept staring at the board, voices murmured nearby.
“Why isn’t she getting punished at all?”
“Seriously. At that point, wasn’t that confession basically a curse?”
“But didn’t Aiden accept it?”
The voices trailed off into hushed whispers.
Sonnet turned and slipped out through the crowd.
She was puzzled too. True, she hadn’t illegally hung fabric over a building like Petro—but she had posted that cursed confession cloth on the lecture hall wall.
Even if it hadn’t reached the professors, her classmates disliked her enough that someone must have reported it.
Yet Sonnet received no punishment. There wasn’t even any sign it was being treated as an issue.
Even though she had provoked Aiden—the very heir of the Rossfield family that essentially owned this school.
…Is it because Aiden accepted my confession?
While she was thinking, someone tapped her small shoulder.
Sonnet frowned and turned. A man with acne on his cheeks spoke the moment their eyes met.
“What the hell happened?”
It was Tester.
He was the only friend who actually interacted with Sonnet. She turned her head away and said,
“What do you mean.”
As Sonnet walked toward the administration office, Tester followed.
“I’ve known you for fifteen years and seen all kinds of things, but this is the craziest yet.”
Apparently Tester had already heard the rumors.
When Sonnet didn’t respond, he suddenly stepped in front of her.
“You seriously did something insane.”
Unbothered, Sonnet sidestepped him and kept walking.
Tester stubbornly followed behind her.
“Even if Aiden looks easygoing, you do know he’s from the Rossfield family, right?”
“……”
“They don’t even treat people like us as human. The only reason they let it slide is because we happen to attend the same school.”
“……”
“He even almost killed someone, you know.”
Tester glanced around cautiously, his gaze serious when he looked back at Sonnet.
She stopped.
She had never heard anything about Aiden nearly killing someone.
It was surprising.
Aiden always looked relaxed—his leisurely, aristocratic demeanor didn’t seem like someone capable of violence.
…No.
Thinking back, he had shown considerable interest in books about war and weaponry.
…Maybe he’s hiding a violent side behind that appearance.
Sonnet wanted to know more.
“Aiden tried to kill someone?”
Tester scanned the area once more, then briskly led the way across the corridor.
Sonnet silently followed.
The moment they stepped outside, the buzz of cicadas hit them along with a wave of heat.
Tester stopped beside a tree with long drooping leaves and turned around.
Only after reaching the quiet, secluded spot did he speak.
“I heard when he was about fifteen—back at the Royal Preparatory School—he beat someone half to death. The guy didn’t die, but after that Aiden went off to be a mercenary for eight years before coming here.”
It was the first time she’d heard this.
Why would someone who seemed to have everything become that cruel?
“Why did he beat the guy that badly?”
“Who knows. They say when he snaps, that’s just what happens.”
Sonnet pictured Aiden sitting upright reading a book.
And then the image of him on horseback, swinging that long pole.
…He does train hard in mounted combat, but he never looked that violent…
Tester emphasized as if sharing something important.
“I also heard he sometimes hangs around underground bare-knuckle fight pits.”
“Someone from the Rossfield family does that?”
Bare-knuckle pits were more the kind of rough entertainment commoners enjoyed—not nobles.
Tester nodded.
“They say he even does it on the anniversary of his mother’s death.”
Sonnet’s brows furrowed.
“Even on his mother’s death anniversary?”
“Not completely sure, but that’s the rumor.”
No matter how she thought about it, Sonnet couldn’t understand.
Why would someone like Aiden—who seemed to have everything—deliberately sink to something so low?
And even on his mother’s memorial day.
Still, rumors were often unreliable, and Tester didn’t seem to have witnessed it himself. Sonnet spoke calmly.
“How do you know all this?”
“You think I wouldn’t? The rumors are already everywhere.”
“I hadn’t heard.”
Tester let out a disbelieving snort.
“That’s because you’re buried in your damn studies.”
“I still know the important stuff…”
Sonnet generally picked up the big rumors floating around, even without trying.
After a moment of thought about Aiden, her brows knit again.
“So most people know Aiden nearly killed someone and messes around like that?”
“Yeah.”
Her frown deepened.
“And they still like him?”
The boys were one thing—but plenty of girls showed him affection and confessed to him too.
Tester leaned against the tree and crossed his arms.
“If anything, the guys are even more obsessed because of it. Plus, he really did spend a good chunk of time as a mercenary.”
“……”
“And think about it. Rossfield family, that face, that body—of course people like him.”
“He almost killed someone.”
“That was ages ago. And the guy didn’t actually die.”
“Still…”
“They’re not the same as us.”
That was true.
Sonnet and Tester were the same kind of people—and Aiden and his circle were different.
In the first place, the only reason Sonnet and Tester could attend this prestigious academy for high nobility was because of the merit inclusion system established by the Roster Kingdom.
At least they had been able to enter this crowd thanks to their outstanding grades at their previous preparatory school.
Not that they had ever truly blended in.
“Anyway, don’t get close to Aiden.”
Sonnet didn’t answer.
Money and honor were on the line—she had to take first place no matter what.
Tester stared at her and spoke again.
“If not me, who’s going to tell you this stuff? You might be obsessed with studying, but when it comes to dealing with people, you’re basically innocent.”
Sonnet had nothing to say.
Because he was right.
“And when something catches your interest, you dive in like a maniac.”
“……”
“I’m telling you this so that at least you—”
“Then what about my first place?”
