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Isabella Woodville (Modern World)

Rain tapped softly against the window as Isabella turned the final page of Crown of Thorns for the seventh time. Her favorite scene. The wedding. Crown Prince Elias holding Saintess Liora’s hand. Perfect smiles. Perfect ending. She hugged the book to her chest.

Her phone buzzed.

She laughed softly and stood to grab water— A bright light flashed outside. A deafening crash. Pain. closed her eyes.

She lifts her hands slowly. Pale fingers. Silk sleeves. Jewelry. Her breathing stops.

She rushes toward the mirror. A noble girl stares back — elegant, beautiful, unfamiliar. Memory crashes into her mind.

The carriage stops. Voices echo outside. Students gather beneath grand marble gates. Golden banners wave in the wind.

She steps out. Whispers instantly spread through the crowd.

Suddenly the crowd shifts. A quiet presence approaches.

A tall young man walks forward, black hair shining under sunlight, calm eyes observing everything with gentle authority.

Then— A girl enters quietly through the gates. Simple dress. Soft smile. Gentle eyes.

Elias notices Liora. Their eyes meet. Time pauses.

Students suddenly fall silent again. A colder presence approaches. The air itself feels heavier.

Black carriage. Northern emblem. Door opens slowly. A tall man steps out, dressed in dark uniform, crimson eyes sharp enough to cut through noise itself.

His gaze scans the crowd — uninterested, detached, distant. Until— His eyes briefly stop on Isabella.

Klex studies her quietly for a moment longer than expected.

He turns away, but his expression shows faint curiosity. A deviation. A small change.

Three destinies stand within the academy gates: The Prince. The Saintess. The Future Villain.

let's start

Students disperse toward academy halls. Laughter echoes. Nobles chat. Servants pass quietly. Yet— A strange chill lingers.

Footsteps approach behind her. Slow. Measured. Silent.

She turns. A male student stands there wearing academy uniform, dark hair falling over calm eyes, expression polite yet strangely unreadable.

His smile is perfect. Too perfect. His eyes never soften.

Across the ballroom, the political tide continued its quiet rearrangement. Klex Raventhar remained near Liora, speaking in low tones that drew polite curiosity but not suspicion. Elias observed with measured calm. Cassian smiled. Mirelle watched. But something else had changed. Subtle. Wrong.

Standing near the academy instructors — wearing the uniform of a first-year noble student — was a face she knew intimately from late-night rereads. Except he did not appear until Volume Three. He was not supposed to be here. Not tonight. Not yet.

The boy stood quietly, hands folded behind his back, posture humble but observant — dark hair neatly tied, sharp gray eyes assessing the ballroom not with awe, but with calculation far beyond his apparent age. He was introduced in the novel as a transfer student from a minor eastern territory during the Beast Hunting Trial arc. He was meant to be seventeen. He was meant to arrive after Elias survived his first near-death experience. He was meant to become a quiet ally to Adrian. He was meant to matter later. But here he was. Too early. Too calm.

Across the ballroom, Adrian approached the mysterious student.

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