Chapter 18: Prelude to Freshman Ball I
The academy was buzzing.
Every hallway, every lounge, every common area was filled with chattering students, all focused on one thing—
The Freshman Ball.
As the name suggested, it was a grand event for all first-year students of Mythos Academy. A night of elegance, formality, and carefully practiced social maneuvering.
For most students, it was a familiar affair.
The vast majority came from noble backgrounds, raised in ballrooms and banquets, schooled in etiquette and social graces as naturally as breathing.
For them, this was just another night.
For me?
It was entirely uncharted territory.
Even in Arthur's memories, there had been no grand ball, no elegant dances under chandelier-lit ceilings.
The reason was simple—Arthur's father was a knight captain, not a noble. There had been no grand social events, no tedious lessons in which spoon went where, no meticulously rehearsed waltzes under the watchful eyes of family elders.
This was, technically, the first ball I was ever going to attend.
And, as one would expect from such an event, I needed a date.
There was just one problem.
I didn't exactly have a strong rapport with my classmates.
The person I was closest to was Rachel, and that was mostly because she was inherently nice rather than because of any real effort on my part.
Ian and Lucifer? I could talk to them, but we weren't close.
Cecilia? Absolutely not.
Ren? Even worse.
That left me with one reasonable option—Rose.
Except… Rose was absolutely terrified of Cecilia.
Something had happened between them in the past, something bad enough that even now, Rose treated any interaction with Cecilia like she was tiptoeing around a live grenade.
And with Cecilia watching me more closely these days, I didn't want Rose getting caught in that mess.
So, my best option?
Go without a date.
Simple. Safe. No risk of making new enemies before I had the strength to deal with them.
At least, that was the plan.
Until Rachel Creighton walked up to my table after World History class, her long blonde hair swaying slightly as she approached with an easy confidence.
"Hey, Arthur."
"Hey, Rach. What's up?"
She smiled. Bright. Friendly. Uncomplicated.
"Be my date for the Freshman Ball."
I froze.
The classroom, which had only been mildly noisy before, went dead silent.
Cecilia, who had been leaning lazily against her desk, tilted her head, her crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.
Seraphina, ever unreadable, didn't react at all—just watched.
And then there was Ren.
Ren sighed dramatically, like Rachel had just declared she was planning to adopt a stray dog with rabies.
"Rachel," he said, exasperated, "are you being kind to him again?"
I resisted the urge to sigh.
"I told you," Ren continued, folding his arms, "he's a nobody. You don't have to—"
Rachel turned to face him, and in an instant, all the warmth in her expression vanished.
"I want to go with Arthur."
Ren's mouth shut instantly, and I swore I saw a flicker of annoyance cross his face.
Rachel's sapphire-blue eyes didn't waver as she looked straight at him.
"It's my wish. Who are you to stop me?"
The tension in the room spiked.
Ian, never one to miss an opportunity for chaos, grinned.
"If Rachel wishes for something, she can do it, Ren."
Lucifer, ever the observer, simply crossed his arms, his expression neutral, but his gaze sharp.
Ren exhaled heavily and looked away.
Meanwhile, I was still recovering from the fact that this was happening at all.
Rachel was supposed to go with Lucifer.
That was how it always went, right?
Then, before I could overthink it any further, she turned back to me, her expression softening again, her voice warm and easy.
"So," she said, tilting her head slightly, "what do you say?"
She must have noticed the hesitation in my posture, because she smiled even wider.
"I know you feel pressured because I'm a princess and everything," she said lightly, "but don't be. I just want you to have fun with me, okay?"
This girl was too dangerous.
And not in the Cecilia way, where I might wake up one day and find my life in pieces for her amusement.
Rachel was dangerous because it was hard to say no to her.
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"Hey, Rose, are you taking a date to the Freshman Ball?" I asked.
She nodded, casually breaking apart a muffin as she spoke. "Yeah, it's a boy from Class B—Gilbert."
I raised an eyebrow. "Gilbert?"
She waved a hand dismissively. "He's decent enough. Besides, I wanted to go with you, but…"
I shook my head before she could finish the thought. "No, it's alright. I know there's… something between you and Cecilia."
Rose let out a quiet sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Thanks for understanding."
"Did you get a date?" she asked, taking another bite of her muffin.
Before I could answer, a voice cut through the conversation, laced with mocking amusement.
"A date? With a commoner?"
I turned my head.
A group of boys approached, their uniforms marked with the insignias of Class B and C. Their expressions ranged from amused arrogance to mild curiosity, the kind of looks people gave when they expected a spectacle.
Rose leaned in, whispering just low enough for only me to hear.
"That's Morris. Son of a Marquis from Slatemark Empire."
I hummed. High Yellow-rank.
So he was probably strong, or at least strong enough to think he could talk like this without consequences.
Morris folded his arms, smirking like he had just uncovered some grand joke at my expense.
"Well then, commoner," he drawled, his tone practically dripping with self-satisfaction. "How does it feel to mingle with royals far above your level?"
I tilted my head slightly.
'Is this… bullying?'
At Mythos Academy, physical bullying wasn't tolerated—the school didn't waste time catering to bruised egos when combat training was a daily necessity. But verbal bullying? That was a gray area.
And apparently, Morris had found the line and decided to dance on it.
One of the other boys snickered, eyes flicking between Rose and me.
"Come on, let's not tease him too much," he said, his mock sympathy so thick it could be bottled and sold as snake oil. "After all, his only friend ditched him for another guy. Probably doesn't even have a date, right?"
I felt Rose stiffen beside me, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her skirt.
She was angry. At them. At herself.
And I wasn't about to let anyone make her feel bad for something that wasn't her fault.
I smiled. Calm. Unbothered.
"Actually," I said, "I do have a date."
Morris blinked, clearly not expecting that answer.
Another boy laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, must be some commoner chick from Class D, huh?"
"Yeah," another sneered. "Who is she? Some ugly, dull girl you scraped together at the last second?"
I tilted my head, let them simmer in their own ignorance for a beat, then spoke.
"This 'ugly' and 'dull' girl is Rachel Creighton."
Silence.
The shift in their expressions was immediate. The mockery evaporated, replaced first with confusion, then with something bordering on horror.
Rachel Creighton. Second princess of the Creighton family. The future Saintess.
Morris' mouth opened slightly, then shut again, like his brain had momentarily crashed and was struggling to reboot.
I smiled wider.
"Something wrong?" I asked, keeping my voice light, almost pleasant.
Morris recovered quickly, his smirk returning with slightly less confidence than before.
"If you were going to lie, at least make it believable," he scoffed. "Everyone knows Princess Rachel is going with Prince Lucifer."
I sighed.
Of course, that was the assumption.
And I could have explained it, could have corrected him, but before I had the chance—
Someone else did it for me.
"I can go with whoever I want."
Rachel stepped into the café, her voice carrying that effortless certainty of someone who had never once needed permission for anything.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Morris froze, his group falling silent as Rachel brushed past them without so much as a glance, her attention fully on me.
"Arthur, we need to go, you know?"
I blinked. Go where?
"Do we have to?" I asked, half-expecting her to change the subject entirely.
She nodded. "You need to buy a suit and a tie so you can match me."
Then, without missing a beat, she smiled, completely ignoring the utter destruction of Morris' dignity happening in real-time.
"So let's go!"
I pushed my chair back, standing up. "I'll see you later, Rose."
Rose nodded, still looking somewhat shaken from the earlier exchange.
I walked past Morris and his group without so much as a glance, Rachel beside me, radiating untouchable confidence.
She didn't even acknowledge them.
Not one word. Not even a flicker of recognition.
Which, honestly, was so much worse for them.
She waved at Rose, then led the way, stepping out of the café as if the entire encounter had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
I followed her, stepping onto the pathway, feeling the tension in the air settle behind us like a fading storm.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked, still adjusting to the pace at which Rachel made decisions.
"Outside the academy," she said simply.
Right.
Today, we were leaving the island Mythos Academy was built on.