Lilith stepped into the Hall of Registration and was immediately struck by the strange duality of the place.
It smelled faintly of bitter ale, worn leather, and old steel — yet the fragrance drifted through a hall of polished marble floors, enchanted chandeliers, and tall arched ceilings painted with celestial constellations.
A contradiction in architecture and clientele.
Clusters of adventurers lounged on velvet-backed benches and gilded railings, their presence clashing spectacularly with the refined décor.
Towering warriors in dented armor that looked one bad day away from collapsing, mages in stained robes shedding ash on pristine carpets, and thieves with shifty eyes pretending not to assess everyone's coin pouch.
Apparently this was some sort of elegant chaos hub for the adventuring class — where gleaming crystal lanterns illuminated crowds that smelled like month-old sweat.
To the right stood a bar of dark polished mahogany, far too luxurious for the rowdy hands gripping tankards of frothy ale.
A mission wall — carved from enchanted oak and covered in crisp parchment requests — stretched across one side like a curated gallery of questionable life choices.
And tucked neatly near the back, almost offended by the noise around her, sat a registration clerk behind a simple but refined silver-trimmed desk.
Relieved to find something resembling actual bureaucracy, Lilith approached.
"Hello," she said, her tone soft and polished. "I'd like to register to study at the academy."
"Of course. Please hand over your Verification Card," the clerk replied.
Her smile was perfectly practiced — the smile of someone professionally pleasant — but her crystal-blue eyes carried the weary glaze of a woman who spent her days managing people who carried swords wider than her desk. Her voice had all the enthusiasm of a golem on standby.
Lilith passed her the Sultanate Card.
The clerk examined it briefly, then slid it through a sleek metal arcane scanner that chimed a single clear note. She returned the card without fanfare.
"All set. You're officially registered," she recited at a speed that suggested she had said those exact words a thousand times in one week.
"Here's an academy emblem. It'll keep the city patrols from bothering you when entering Ernas."
Lilith accepted the small bronze emblem, staring at it as a familiar, ironic confusion bubbled inside her.
"Wait—this is it? No three-page forms? No magical aptitude trials? No dramatic arcane evaluations?"
Her expectations had been crushed under the weight of streamlined efficiency.
Although she found the registration suspiciously easy—closer to buying a loaf of bread at a bakery than enrolling in a legendary institution—Lilith offered a polite smile and made her way toward the exit. Her urgency was justified; standing still in the Hall of Registration felt less like paperwork and more like a survival trial.
She narrowly dodged the flailing elbow of a dwarf drinking straight from a personal keg and sidestepped a man gesturing so violently about a "spider mission" that he looked moments away from detonating.
Escaping the chaos, she stepped back into the fresh air outside and exhaled.
That was when she noticed it.
A sizable crowd had gathered near the grand entrance gate of the Academy—adventurers, students, and even a handful of curious civilians all packed together, craning their necks toward something unseen.
"What is going on now?" she murmured, her mind racing to fill in the blanks.
"A special event? A fencing festival? A magical traffic accident? Honestly, in this insane world, it could be anything."
Her newcomer curiosity won over any lingering sense of caution. Without waiting for an explanation—and armed with her freshly earned registration—Lilith headed straight toward the crowd to discover the source of the commotion
Lilith pushed herself a little deeper into the crowd, and in that moment the source of the commotion finally snapped into view.
A carriage—painted in a deep, velvety blue and trimmed with gold so polished it practically glowed—glided through the academy gates. Pulling it was a pristine white stallion that, frankly, looked like it had a more impressive financial history than Lilith herself. The level of opulence was almost offensive amid the cluster of scruffy adventurers.
As the carriage rolled under the monumental archway and entered the academy grounds, one of the men in the crowd shouted with reverence:
"The Princess! By the Mother of Ernas, I haven't seen her since last term!"
A ripple of excited murmurs surged through the onlookers.
"Princess?" Lilith echoed under her breath, the word tasting strange in her mouth. Royalty studies here? Seriously?
The crowd, guided by an instinctive reverence, parted to form a makeshift corridor as the carriage came to a halt.
And then she stepped out.
The moment the princess's foot touched the ground, Lilith understood everything—the shouts, the awe, the borderline hysteria.
Oh… gods.
She's—she's unreal.
The woman who emerged was breathtaking in a way that felt almost unfair. Lilith felt something in her chest tighten, a sharp and inexplicable flutter—part admiration, part shock, and part something beyond that...
Her beauty rivaled Lilith's own, which was something Lilith rarely acknowledged about anyone. The princess held the same tall, elegant build, but with a blonde hair that shimmered like the sun, cascading against skin so flawless it could've been carved from moonlit porcelain. Her features were so perfectly balanced they almost hurt to look at—soft, regal, impossibly striking.
Lilith's gaze drifted lower despite herself.
The princess wore noble attire, but nothing stiff or antiquated: a deep wine-red dress made of a fabric that flowed like liquid dusk, hugging her frame before parting subtly at the legs. The resulting silhouette was both powerful and devastatingly beautiful.
Lilith's breath caught.
Okay, she admitted silently.
Maybe I do understand the commotion.
Her heartbeat stumbled once—just once—before she forced it back into rhythm.