Chapter 1:
That guy is seriously no help in my life.
Ayla’s letter didn’t even start with a greeting—it jumped straight into the point. Eileen thought, “Ah, this is another letter I don’t need to read.” Every time, the letters were full of curses about that guy and Ayla’s endless complaints. It had gotten so repetitive, it was tiresome. Plus, she couldn’t even keep these letters around. They were borderline sacrilegious.
The guy in question was none other than the Crown Prince of the empire, Damian Lancaster.
Eileen tossed the letter into the fireplace, hoping the next one would have something new for once. And months later, it did—but not in a good way. It was so shocking that Eileen immediately handed the letter to her father, and the entire household was thrown into chaos.
Eileen. I’m getting engaged.
…To that guy.
Ayla’s dream was to become a royal civil servant. It wasn’t because of some noble desire to serve the empire. Royal civil service was simply more stable than most careers. Salaries increased steeply with seniority, and one could retire with a fat pension. Truthfully, Ayla didn’t need to work that hard. She was a noble, after all—the eldest daughter of the formidable Duke Durman. Even inheriting a few of her father’s side businesses would let her live in luxury to the grave.
But Ayla didn’t want all that responsibility. She hated the idea of stressful decisions and didn’t want to be blamed if a business failed. A salaried job with stable hours was far more appealing. So, she dumped the family estate on her younger siblings and flew off to the academy.
Father, I have no talent for business. If you were the Minister of Finance like Marquis Notewin, maybe I’d consider taking over.
The Duke tore up the absurd letter from his beloved daughter and sent a curt reply to the academy.
If you want a single coin of inheritance, graduate on time.
She graduated at eighteen. The message in his letter was clear: support would end when she turned eighteen. Deeply moved by her father’s unrelenting stance, Ayla set a goal: to graduate top of her class and get a salaried job as a royal civil servant.
But that ambitious plan was constantly thwarted—by a guy who was absolutely no help in life.
Ayla stared so hard at the bulletin board it was as if she could set it on fire with her eyes. It had happened again. She was already a fourth-year student. For four years, she had never once ranked first. Always second place. And always because of that name written right above hers.
“…Damian Lancaster.”
The way she muttered his name sounded downright ominous. She wasn’t even saying it loud, but somehow the subject of her rage strolled over and casually placed a hand on her shoulder. Ayla swatted it off at once.
“Get your hand off me.”
Her tone was biting, but Damian didn’t seem to mind.
“Oh dear, Ayla. Second place again, huh?”
Ayla’s blood boiled. She wanted to scream, It’s all your fault!, but there were too many eyes on them. She had an image to uphold.
“Yes. And you’re first again, Damian.”
She forced a smile, gritting her teeth. Thirteen exams so far, and Damian had scored perfect marks on every single one. Ayla had never managed to beat him.
“Guess I just got lucky.”
As if! Her twitching smile betrayed her seething frustration. She wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug face from her sight. But she couldn’t. They were in the same department.
Ayla could never understand why someone with such outstanding magical talent chose to major in literature instead of magic. If he weren’t the Crown Prince, he’d be in the Mage Tower, not the academy. The tower still tried to lure him in every chance they got. But Damian chose literature—a field completely unrelated to his talents.
When she once asked him why, he said, “It seemed fun.” Yet he didn’t even seem particularly interested in the classes. And still, he got perfect scores. That made him even more insufferable.
Ayla hoped to work in the Ministry of Culture and Arts once she became a civil servant. It was the only department—besides the Ministry of Magic—that had consistent office hours. But the Magic Ministry was mostly just mages dispatched from the tower once a year, and most didn’t even show up regularly.
Since she couldn’t become a mage, Ayla aimed for the Ministry of Culture and Arts—specifically, the National Arts Administration Team, not the Artifact Excavation Team. She didn’t have a shred of artistic talent, but at least she had taste. That’s why she chose General Literature over Literary Writing as her specialization.
She had high ambitions. If it weren’t for that one name always hanging over hers, her path to success would be smooth. Yes, she could still be specially appointed as a civil servant by graduating second in class. But her pride wouldn’t allow it. She was determined to beat Damian.
She hated him. His annoyingly handsome face, his superior grades—everything. No, what she really hated was the long-standing grudge between them. Every time she saw him, she was reminded of her most cringeworthy memory.
[Damian, marry me!]
[…No.]
[Waaah!]
The sound of her childhood sobs still echoed in her mind. So did Damian’s immediate rejection.
Maybe it was childish, but that old bitterness still had a hold on her. And since coming to the academy, the bitterness had only grown.
If she couldn’t get rid of him, she’d just have to avoid him altogether. The more she talked to Damian, the more it burned her up inside. Staying away was the healthiest choice.
Ayla wiped off her fake smile and turned to walk away, exuding an icy aura. But Damian, unfazed, easily caught up and strolled beside her.
“Ayla, what are you doing today? The midterms are over, so you can relax, right?”
Even if she were relaxing, she wouldn’t do it with him.
“Ayla, ignoring me again?”
Yes. Again. Damian didn’t seem to mind at all and walked alongside her as if nothing was wrong. Ayla suddenly stopped walking to shake him off—but then the whispering began.
They walk around together like that every day. Are they really not dating?
Nope. He follows her around. She ignores him, but he just keeps smiling.
Maybe he likes being ignored? What’s that called again… a maso-something?
“Ayla. Ayla,” Damian sang her name like a song.
Instead of covering her ears, Ayla chose a more direct method to shut him up.
“Mmph!”
With a smug grin, she shoved something into Damian’s mouth. He instantly knew what it was—something he hated. A lollipop. A big, swirly one.
“Cute, Damian.”
“…”
Damian bit down on the stick with a loud crunch. The overwhelming sweetness made his face twitch, but he maintained a poker face. If he could swallow poison, he could handle this. As he crunched down on the candy, he heard more whispers:
They’re cute. Such a close pair.
They’re just childhood friends, not a couple. But if I had a friend like that, I’d be close too.
But one comment in particular rubbed him the wrong way.
Once he finished the lollipop, Damian turned his head and looked around. Then he smiled. His silver hair glistened under the sun, and his smile sparkled just as brightly. The nearby girls swooned. Even the boys were stunned by his beauty.
“Sorry, but can we get some space here?”
Everyone nodded blankly and vanished in a flash. The hallway emptied, leaving only the two of them. Ayla watched the scene unfold with a look of utter disgust.
“Now we can talk alone. Right, Ayla?”
His tone was gentle, but Ayla had nothing to say.
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“So, where should we go hang out?”
“I don’t want to hang out with you.”
“Library?”
She froze. Now that was tempting. She was already planning to go organize her notes from the history of classical literature exam—she had missed three questions. But not with him. She didn’t want to go with him. Still… his neat, thorough notes from the last test floated into her mind. He had lent them to her without even being asked—just from catching her glancing his way. That annoyed her even more. Too kind, that jerk.
“Great, let’s meet at the library. See you there, Ayla!”
Damian waved cheerfully. As Ayla stared dumbly at his sunlit smile, she snapped out of it and shook her head.
“…Damn it.”
She’d been roped in again. It always happened like this.
“Well… I do benefit from it…”
That was how she always justified it.
The Imperial Academy Library, known as Caelum, meant “sky” or “abode of the gods” in ancient language.
“Knowledge is the domain of the gods, and mankind, yearning to be divine, sought knowledge and created books.”
Following this line from ancient myth, Emperor Autanus II, the academy’s founder, named the library Caelum. And true to its name, Caelum held tens of millions of volumes. The four-story building was packed with books on every floor.
Ayla stood in front of Caelum, looking around. Damian wasn’t there yet. She stared blankly at the scenery as she waited. Maybe because exams had just ended, the library was unusually empty. A warm spring breeze brushed past her as she gently closed her eyes.
Thud.
“Ow! I’m sorry!”
She had bumped into someone. Before she could even see who it was, the guy had already handed her the dropped book and walked away. He was a tall, well-built male student.
A faint scent lingered where he had passed. It was a unique smell. Familiar, yet not. Ayla dug through her memory. It kind of smelled like herbs…
“Ayla, sorry! Did you wait long?”
A familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts. The lingering smell was quickly replaced by a crisp lemon scent.
“Here, a gift.”
She accepted it without thinking. In the magically chilled clear cup was a fresh, sparkling lemonade—her favorite. Clink. The ice rattled. With it, her heart fluttered slightly.
“Well then, shall we go in?”
