Chapter 19: “A Ruff Morning (5)”

Lady Beatrice Hill yawned delicately, the motion elegant despite her genuine boredom. The tour of Summit Academy’s facilities had been… adequate, she supposed, though far less impressive than she’d hoped.

These instructors droned on and on about history and purpose, about the Tower’s appearance and the academy’s mission. As if any of that mattered. Beatrice hadn’t come to Summit Academy to learn history. She’d come to prove herself superior to a certain blonde witch.

‘Celestia von Reingarde,’ she thought, ‘That insufferable, self-important little—’

Earlier in the plaza, when Beatrice had executed her perfectly planned confrontation, everything had been going according to script. She’d spent weeks preparing that laugh, practicing the exact tilt of her head. Her friends had assured her it was devastatingly effective, the very picture of noble mockery.

But then Celestia had simply… ignored her.

Just turned away as if Beatrice wasn’t even worth acknowledging. As if she were less than nothing.

The humiliation still burned. Beatrice’s cheeks flushed hot at the memory, and she quickly waved her fan to cool her face before anyone noticed.

‘How dare she? How DARE she?’

Beatrice had been raised in House Hill, one of the royal kingdoms outside the empire’s direct borders but still politically significant enough in imperial politics. The Hill family had long harbored ambitions of securing closer ties to the imperial throne, and what better way than through marriage?

When Beatrice was still a child, barely old enough to understand the concept of courtship, her parents had begun grooming her for one specific purpose: to become the Imperial Prince’s wife.

Oh, they’d been careful about it. Nothing overt, nothing that could be seen as directly challenging the existing betrothal between Prince Damon and Celestia Von Reingarde. But behind closed doors, in conversations and carefully arranged social events, the Hill family had made their intentions clear.

Beatrice had been dressed in the finest clothes money could buy. She’d been tutored in music, dance, etiquette, conversation, everything a proper imperial consort should know. Her parents had spared no expense in molding her into the perfect match for Prince Damon.

And all the while, that betrothal to Celestia had hung over Beatrice like a dark cloud.

Beatrice remembered seeing Celestia at various balls and tea parties over the years. The other girl had always been so smug, so secure in her position. She’d worn her engagement to the Imperial Prince like a tiara, lording it over everyone else.

‘She never deserved him,’ Beatrice thought venomously. ‘A spoiled brat who got lucky because her father had money and connections. She isn’t even that pretty.’

Well, she was, objectively speaking. Celestia’s blonde hair and crimson eyes were striking, and her features classically beautiful. But Beatrice would never admit that aloud.

The point was, Celestia had never earned her position. She’d simply been born into the right family and thrown a childhood tantrum until Daddy made her dreams come true.

When the rumors started circulating about the betrothal being annulled, Beatrice had initially thought it was too good to be true. She’d heard it being continuously uttered at tea parties, heard how the whole royal ball went, but hadn’t dared hope until the official announcement.

And then it happened. The imperial family had announced the dissolvement of the engagement. Celestia Von Reingarde was no longer promised to Imperial Prince Damon.

Beatrice had celebrated privately for days. This was it. Her chance. The position was open, and she was perfectly positioned to claim it.

‘I’ll show everyone,’ she’d thought. ‘I’ll show them that I’m better than Celestia ever was. More graceful, more accomplished, more worthy of standing beside the future Emperor.’

Summit Academy had seemed like the perfect opportunity. Celestia had enrolled, likely to maintain some social standing after her humiliation. So Beatrice had quickly used her family’s connections to secure her own spot.

If they were both students at the academy, Beatrice could demonstrate her superiority publicly. She could excel in classes, shine in social events, maybe even catch the Imperial Prince’s attention if he visited the academy.

But then, this morning, everything had gone wrong.

Beatrice had been staying in Summit’s noble residential area, a lavish townhouse that her parents had rented for her use. It came with a full staff, including her personal maids and a dedicated cook. The accommodations were far superior to the student dormitories, naturally.

She’d been waiting at the plaza with the other nobles for the tour, all the while ensuring her hair was perfect and her dress eye-catching, when one of her friends had mentioned seeing Celestia’s carriage.

“Doesn’t that look like it came from the student dormitories?” she had said.

The student dormitories? Beatrice had been confused at first, then contemptuous. Only commoners used those cramped, servant-less accommodations. No self-respecting noble would be caught dead staying in the student dormitories.

‘She must have really fallen far,’ Beatrice had thought smugly. ‘Lost her betrothal and now she’s living like a commoner. Pathetic.’

But when Celestia stepped down from the carriage, something was… off.

Beatrice couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Celestia still carried herself with that infuriating noble bearing, still radiated that same haughty confidence. But there was something instintictively different about her. The old Celestia had been proud, yes, but her pride had been petty. She’d cared desperately about her position, about being seen as superior. She’d reveled in her engagement to the Imperial Prince, had flaunted it at every opportunity.

This time though… Celestia looked at Beatrice like she was an insect. Not even worth the effort to squash. And then, impossibly, Celestia had stayed with the commoner group for the tour.

Celestia Von Reingarde. Daughter of one of the empire’s most powerful dukes. A girl who had once been engaged to the Imperial Prince himself. Was now choosing to tour with the commoners?

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‘Has she truly lost her mind?’ Beatrice wondered.

That had to be it. The humiliation of the annulment had driven Celestia to some kind of manic behavior. There was no other explanation for such bizarre behavior.

Now, an hour into the noble tour, Beatrice walked alongside her small group of friends, girls from other noble families who had attached themselves to her for the social benefits of being in a royal princess’s orbit.

“Can you believe she stayed behind there?” Beatrice chastised. “Celestia Von Reingarde, the viper who would rather drink poison than touch a commoner, joining the commoner group?”

“Perhaps she’s trying to seem humble?” suggested Milli, a blonde girl with a round face and who seemed to be eager to please Beatrice. “You know, rebuilding her reputation after the scandal?”

Beatrice snorted indelicately. “Humble? Celestia? Please. The girl doesn’t have a humble bone in her body.”

“Maybe she’s given up on noble society entirely,” offered Cordelia, a redhead with freckles. “I mean, after being rejected by the Imperial Prince in such a public way…”

“It was her own fault,” Beatrice said firmly. “Everyone knows she humiliated herself at the imperial ball. Whatever happened there, it was bad enough that even the Emperor agreed to annul the betrothal.”

The third girl in their group, a quiet brunette named Sophia, spoke up hesitantly. “I heard it was actually Prince Damon who—”

“Rumors,” Beatrice cut her off. “People love to make the Imperial Prince look bad because they’re jealous of his position. I’m sure whatever happened, Celestia was the one truly at fault. She probably threw some kind of tantrum when she realized the Prince was losing interest in her.”

The other girls nodded, though Sophia still looked uncertain.

The two academy staff were leading them through the facilities, showing them the various buildings and training facilities. As they walked, Beatrice’s mind kept drifting back to Celestia. The confrontation in the plaza had been meant to establish dominance, to put Celestia in her place publicly. Instead, it had backfired spectacularly.

‘Next time,’ Beatrice thought grimly. ‘Next time I’ll be ready. I’ll corner her where she can’t just walk away. I’ll force her to acknowledge me.’

She was so lost in her vengeful thoughts that she almost didn’t notice when the staff members led them toward one of the more barbaric areas of the academy.