Chapter 16: Lillian’s Helplessness
Liliane strode swiftly through St. Freya’s ornate corridors, her polished heels striking the marble floor with a sharper, colder “tap, tap” than usual.
The sounds around her—students’ greetings, distant blasts from magic practice, birds chirping outside—were blocked out as if by an invisible barrier. She heard nothing.
Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms, the sting doing little to calm the storm raging within her.
This morning, before dawn had fully broken, she saw it.
In the deserted courtyard, the massive magical bulletin board glowed with venomous text, displaying that “notice” about Ailiya.
Her first reaction was disbelief.
Scandalous personal life? Scheming manipulator? Blackmailing her?
Liliane didn’t believe a word.
She knew better than anyone how foolishly naive that white-haired girl was, her head filled with nothing but bread, knight novels, and how to repay her family’s million-gold-coin debt.
But what followed was a towering, icy fury.
Ailiya Winston was brought to the academy by her, Liliane von Winter, and was her family’s personal maid.
No matter how insignificant Ailiya seemed, her image now reflected the Winter family’s honor.
To attack her person so brazenly, with such despicable tactics, in St. Freya—Liliane’s domain—was a direct challenge.
Liliane quickened her pace, brushing past students bowing to her, heading straight for a door at the corridor’s end.
A black ebony plaque with gold lettering read: “Vice Principal’s Office.”
Without hesitation, she knocked.
“Come in.”
A languid, melodious voice answered from within.
Liliane pushed the door open.
The room lacked the stern air of an office, resembling a cozy greenhouse instead. Sunlight flooded through large windows, filling the air with the faint scent of flowers and earth.
A woman, appearing in her early thirties, stood by the window, carefully watering a peculiar plant with a delicate brass pot. The plant bore cat-faced flowers, their fuzzy petals purring contentedly with her touch.
This was Melissa Crowell, St. Freya’s vice principal.
She wore a loose linen robe instead of the academy’s formal attire, her brown curls loosely pinned up, her face bearing a playful, disinterested smile.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the Winter family’s busy bee,” Melissa teased without turning. “What brings you to this old lady’s office today?”
Liliane ignored the jest, striding to the massive desk carved from tree roots. With a sharp “slap,” she slammed down a paper transcribing the bulletin board’s rumors.
“Vice Principal, I need an explanation.” Her voice was ice-cold. “The courtyard’s bulletin board is a filthy dump. As its primary overseer, what do you have to say?”
Melissa finished watering, fondly stroking the magical cat-flower’s petals as it nuzzled her fingers.
Only then did she turn, pick up the paper, glance at it, and chuckle lightly:
“No idea. Probably some students unhappy with your new maid.”
“The bulletin board’s magic circuits are under your direct control,” Liliane said, her eyes sharp as knives. “Without your permission or equivalent hacking skills, no one could post that. You’re saying you don’t know?”
“I really don’t,” Melissa said, spreading her hands innocently. “I only noticed this morning that the board’s defensive array was bypassed with a clever trick. The technique was sophisticated, but the mana was immature. Likely some students blinded by jealousy. Resentment, you know, is one of the strongest spellcasting fuels.”
“Resentment?”
Liliane frowned, the word puzzling her.
“Oh, dear, our lofty Lady Winter might not grasp the hearts of mere mortals,” Melissa said, sitting down and propping her cheek on one hand, eyeing Liliane with amusement.
“Think about it. This is the kingdom’s top noble academy, filled with prideful prodigies. Then a plain, background-less village girl becomes the personal maid of you—Liliane von Winter, the academy’s brightest star. She’s inseparable from that gifted special-admit and even ‘taught’ our dear prince a lesson in public.”
Melissa’s lips curved meaningfully.
“Things any noble girl might strive a lifetime to achieve, she did in days. Resentment, jealousy, anger—aren’t those emotions natural?”
She leaned forward, intrigued: “Forget them—I’m curious. Why would the ever-perfect, efficient Liliane choose a troublemaking, seemingly useless girl as your maid?”
Liliane’s eyes flickered with hesitation, avoiding Melissa’s piercing gaze.
“…That’s personal.”
“Fine, personal.”
Melissa shrugged, tapping the paper.
“So, what’s your plan, Lady Liliane? Storm in here to hold me accountable? Or mobilize the Winter family to turn the academy upside down and find the sneaky rat?”
Liliane fell silent. She knew neither option was viable.
“Let me remind you, dear Liliane,” Melissa’s tone grew serious. “The Winter family wields great influence here, but you can’t act recklessly. Every student has a noble family behind them. Without solid evidence, any rash move will give your enemies leverage, putting your family in a bad light.”
She stood, handing the paper back to Liliane.
“You can’t do anything about this. The more you meddle, the worse it gets for that Ailiya girl. Trust me, sometimes standing back is the best protection.”
Liliane was speechless, silently taking the paper and leaving the office.
As she closed the door, she noticed a line in elegant handwriting on the paper’s back:
“You made her too conspicuous, Liliane.”
That’s why she ignored Ailiya’s plea.
That’s why, for now, she couldn’t acknowledge her—until the storm passed.
Ailiya’s fate—whether she’d be crushed by this tempest or rise above it—depended solely on herself this time.
Liliane took a deep breath, crumpled the rumor-filled paper in her hand, and continued toward her family business meeting.
Her silhouette was prouder, more resolute than ever.