To this academy, I am just a commoner student.

To my father, I am the hidden princess of the kingdom.

But to the most annoying boy in class, I am just target.

____________________________________

The heavy iron gates of the Grand Academy groaned open. I gripped the straps of my worn leather bag,

Pulling my hood low to hide my face as I stepped into the cobblestone courtyard.

Before I could even reach the main hall, a sharp voice cut through the morning mist.

"Hey. Commoner."

I froze. Standing on the marble steps above me was the academy's most arrogant noble lord. He leaned against a pillar, his silver- embroidered cloak catching the morning light.

"Why aren't you at your desk yet?" he sneered, looking down at me. "Don't tell me you're late again. The headmaster is already receiving the morning roster."

I forced a polite, flat smile, keeping my hands hidden in my cloak. "I am walking through the gates right now, My Lord. There is no need to monitor my schedule."

"I am not monitoring you," he snapped, crossing his arms tightly. " Your empty chair is simply an eyesore to the front row. And fix your cloak. Your collar is twisted. You look like a Massey peasant."

"I am a peasant to this school," I murmured under my breath, walking past him without looking back.

"Leave me alone."

___________________________________

I hurried through the crowded stone corridors, rushing toward the heavy wooden doors of the lecture hall. As soon as I slipped inside, a warm hand gently caught my sleeve.

"Morning !" a bright voice whispered.

It was my closest classmate. He smiled warmly, holding up a small glass bottle wrapped in cloth. "I saved you a seat in the back row, far away from his desk. I even snagged two sweet berry milks from the dining hall. Hurry up and sit down before they lose their chill."

A wave of pure relief was he'd over me. "Oh, thank goodness. You are an actual angle."

I slid into the wooden bench beside him, instantly hiding the glass bottle beneath my parchment sheets. " Keep the milk hidden. If that bully see's it, he will find a way to tip the inkwell over it just to irritate me."

My friend let out a soft laugh, pulling out his quill. " Haha, got it covered. He won't see a thing."

Just as I settled into my seat, the front doors of the lecture hall swang open. The arrogant noble marched in, his eyes immediately scanning the room until they looked onto me in the back row. He scowled, gripping his silver ink flask tightly as he took his seat at the front.

The professor began the lecture, but l couldn't focus. I felt the noble's gaze burning into the back of my neck from several rows down. Every time he shifted in his seat, the sharp clink of his sliver flask echoed, a silent promise to the chaos he intended to sow.

The scratching of pens against parchment filled the massive, lofty lecture hall. The professor was droning on about ancient imperial history, but I couldn't focus. I could feel a burning gaze boring into the side of my face.

From three rows ahead, the academy bully was half-turned in his seat. He wasn't looking at the chalkboard. He was staring directly at me, his jaw clenched.

Suddenly, a small, tightly folded piece of parchment landed squarely on my open notebook.

I blinked, looking up. The bully had already turned back around, looking fiercely dedicated to his notes, though the tips of his ears were suspiciously red.

My friend leaned over, whispering under his breath, "Did he just throw something at you? Don't open it. It's probably another mockery."

Curiosity got the better of me. I carefully unfolded the scrap of paper beneath the edge of my desk. Written in elegant, shape cursive-the kind only high nobility were taught-were just a few words:

Your posture is terrible. Sit up straight. And stop looking out the window, the sun is too bright today. You'll get a headache.

I stared at the note, utterly bewildered. Was he insulting my posture or worrying about a headache? I crumpled the paper in my fist and shoved it into my bag, ignoring him.

Ten minutes later, the professor called for a practical demonstration.

"We will now practice basic levitation charms," the professor announced, waving his staff. "Pass the glass inkwells forward. Do not use excessive MANA."

As the heavy glass inkwells passed down the rows, a group of wealthy noble girls near the front intentionally nudged one off the edge of the desk. It was aimed straight toward my worn leather bag on the floor.

"Oh, oops," one of the girls giggled, completely unbothered that the dark ink was about to ruin my only set of clothes.

Before the glass could shatter against my boots, a sudden flash of blue MANA erupted from the front row.

The inkwell frozen midair, hovering just an inch above the stone floor. The liquid inside swirled but didn't spill a single drop. Everyone gasped, turning to look at the source of the magic.

It was him. The bully held his silver ringed hand out, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, icy glare directed straight at the noble girls who dropped it.

"Keep your hands steady." he said, his voice cold enough to freeze water. "The academy shouldn't tolerate such clumsy, pathetic displays from high-ranking families. It's pathetic."

The noble girls turned pale, immediately apologizing and retrieving the inkwell.

I sat frozen in the back row. My friend whispered in shock, "Did he.... just save your bag? I thought he hated Commoner's."

I looked toward the front of the room. The bully slowly lowered his hand, his eyes tracking back to me for a split second. Seeing me staring at him, he quickly looked away, scoffing loudly and crossing his arms as if he hadn't just used his own high-level mana to protect a "peasant."

He didn't hate me. The realization hit me like a sudden wave of cold water. He didn't hate me at all-he was entirely obsessed with me.

The echo of his cold voice still lingered in the lecture hall, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in the room. I stared at the back of his silver-embroidered cloak. My heart pounded against my ribs, not from fear, but from the dizzying confusion of what he had just done.

Why did he protect me?

Before I could process the thoughts swirling in my head, the heavy stone walls of the academy suddenly vibrated.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

It wasn't a spell gone wrong. It was the synchronized, thunderous rhythm of armored horse hooves tearing across the cobblestone courtyard outside. The sound was so loud it rattled the glass windows of the lecture hall.

"What is that?" My friend whispered, his hand instantly flying to the hilt of the training sword at his hip. "Those aren't academy guards."

The entire classroom erupted into whispers. Student scrambled toward the high arched windows, peering down into the courtyard.

"Look at the banners!" someone shouted from the front. "That's... that's the golden dragon crest! The King's personal guard!"

My blood ran entirely cold. The breath caught in my throat, freezing me to the spot. The golden dragon. My father's personal escort.

"Hey." a sharp, breathless voice cut through my panic.

I looked up. The bully had marched all the way to the back row. He was standing right in front of my desk, his usual arrogant smirk completely gone. His eyes were wide, scanning my pale face with frantic intensity.

"Why are the royal knights here?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a low, fierce whisper. He reached out, his fingers hovering just millimeters away from my sleeve, as if he desperately wanted to grab me and pull me away from the windows. "Why do you look like you're about to faint?"

"I..." I choked out, unable to from a single lie.

Before he could speak again, the heavy oak doors of the lecture hall were brutally blown open.

The wood splintered with a deafening crash. A dozen knights clad in gleaming gold-plated armor marched into the room, their unsheathed broadswords reflecting the dim candle-light. The students screamed, diving behind desks.

The Grand Commander of the Royal Guard stepped forward, his heavy iron boots clicking against the stone floor. He ignored the trembling professor, ignored the terrified noble students, and locked his eyes directly onto the very back row.

Straight onto me.

My friend instantly stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body. "Stay back!" Who gave you permission to broach an academy classroom?!"

" Stand down, boy," the Commander boomed, his voice carrying the absolute authority of the throne.

The Commander walked past the front rows. He stopped right beside the bully. Who was staring at the knights with a look of pure, unadulterated shock.

Then, the Grand Commander dropped to one knee. The dozen golden knights behind him instantly followed suit, hitting the stone floor in perfect unison.

"We have searched the four corners of the continent for you, Your Imperial Highness," the Commander announced, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "The King has revoked your hidden status. Your peaceful days are over."

A collective, suffocating gasp echoed through the room.

My friend stiffened, slowly turning his head to look at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of betrayal and utter disbelief. "Princess...?"

But it was the bully's face that broke my heart. He stood frozen, looking down at me as if the entire world had just collapsed beneath his feet. The girl he had mocked, the "peasant" he had secretly tried to protect and yearned for, was the only princess of the realm-a crown far too high for him to ever reach.

"No," I whispered, tears blurring my vision as I took a step backward. "No, please. Why now?"

"Your father has fixed your marriage to the Lord of the Northern Wastelands," the Commander replied ruthlessly, rising to his feet. "The carriage is waiting. We must return to the palace immediately."

The royal guards closed in around me, forming an inescapable wall of gold. I didn't look at my friend. I didn't look at the professor. As they marched me out of the shattered doors, I looked back just once .

The bully was still standing by my empty desk. He wasn't breathing. He reached into his coat, his trembling fingers tightly clutching a small paper bag from the downtown bakery-the sweet tarts he would now never get to give me.