In the carriage heading for Serendia Academy, Lillian was at a loss. It was not because of her assignment to guard the second prince or the anxiety about fitting into her new school... It was because of the two people who seem to absolutely refuse to be separated from her.
This is going to be a long year, Lillian thought as she glanced at her younger twin cousins, Lilianna and Lucas. As Lillian was transferring into Serendia Academy, her young cousins, who had just turned fifteen, were also enrolling into Serendia. Her older cousin Lucian had graduated the year before, but he had told Lillian to call him should she need any help.
Of course, Lillian was happy that she would have her family members there...what she wasn't happy about was Lillianna clinging to her all the time.
As their carriage passed through a large gate and it revealed the scenery inside, Lillian's expression instantly dimmed.
"As expected of Serendia Academy. It sure has a big, magnificent building."
Lucas was impressed as he looked outside the carriage's window. The building that resembled a citadel towering above the mountain gave a different impression once they entered it. Although the outside gave off a heavy and strict atmosphere, its contents resembled the imperial palace with white and blue buildings. The difference would be the clock tower that could be seen from a distance, giving the building the impression of an academy, looking suitable for students to live in.
People often say ghosts are likely to be found in places like funeral halls, charnel houses, or gravesides. However, they're all wrong. Surprisingly, the ghosts do not stay attached to such places. This is because the moment they realize they are dead, they either ascend to heaven immediately or try to attend to any unfinished business that had not been concluded during their lifetimes.
In fact, it is difficult to find the soul of the people in their place of mourning. Rather, there are more ghosts who don't even come near the funeral hall or the charnel house because they don't even want to see themselves dead. Even so...why is this place full of ghosts!?
Yes, Lillian has the ability to see and hear ghosts. She isn't exactly sure how she came into possession of such an ability, but that day, after recovering from the fever and regaining all the memories of her previous life, Lillian was able to see and hear ghosts.
Lillian took a deep breath to calm herself. Sunlight spilling through the ironwork and scattering over the cobblestones...the gentle wind carried the faint scent of blooming flowers, and the academy bells rang in welcome for the students.
The moment should have felt grand—an entrance to remember. Yet, Lillian turned on her heel. Instead of walking through the main gate with her cousins, she slipped quietly toward the smaller back entrance used by faculty.
Her white coat fluttered in the breeze as she walked, the hem brushing against her modest dress. It wasn't the bright, frilly uniform worn by the other girls; rather, it marked her as part of the academy's staff.
Her position was an odd one for someone her age—assistant medical officer.
It sounded official, but in truth, she was neither fully a student nor a professional. Her role straddled the line between both, a compromise carefully arranged by her family.
Inside the back corridor, a familiar voice greeted her. "It seems you made it here without getting lost."
Lillian turned to see a tall man in a white coat leaning casually against the infirmary doorframe. "Uncle Theodore!" she said, smiling.
Theodore Islar, chief medical officer, was her adoptive father's youngest brother. Like his older brother and sister, he had dark hair and blue eyes, though his expression was gentler than Gerald's expressionless one. Despite his quiet manner, he is renowned for his research in magic and medicine—so much so that the academy had personally recruited him.
Her aunt had suggested Lillian become his assistant, thinking it would draw her out of her growing tendency to isolate herself. It was a clever move. Her aunt was the sort who noticed everything without even saying much. Lillian suspected she'd known all along about her secret correspondence studies.
Under her uncle's supervision, Lillina was allowed to assist in the infirmary while taking her remaining classes. It was a special arrangement to earn an official graduation certificate—one that required her to obtain basic medical assistant qualifications and a license in medicinal compounding beforehand. Lillina had spent the past two months buried in textbooks and herbology, barely sleeping some nights.
"So, Lily was serious after all," Theodore said with a knowing look. "I should have realized how far you'd go to avoid attending school like everyone else."
"I'm always serious," Lillian replied with mock offense.
"Even if you already meet graduation standards, you'll need to perform well in your class."
"Of course! I can't afford to fail now."
When Lillian stepped into the infirmary, she paused in surprise. The space was cluttered but livable—much neater than she had expected from her uncle. Books, scrolls, and half-labeled bottles filled the shelves, while papers were stacked precariously across every flat surface.
"It's tidier than I thought," she murmured. "I was expecting an avalanche."
"I did clean up," he said mildly.
Lillian smiled. "We really should hire another medical officer to help."
"No."
The reply was immediate. She sighed. Her uncle's dislike for socializing rivaled her own. He had once said that if they even brought in another officer, he'd resign on the spot. Lillian suspected the only thing keeping him here is the generous research budget.
"I assume you know your responsibilities already?" Theodore asked.
"I do. But first—may I tidy this place properly?"
"Sure," he admitted. "If I did it, it'd only get worse."
With his approval, Lillian pointed her finger at the parchment. When she did, the mountain of papers suddenly flew and danced into the air as though each had a mind of its own.
Producing wind using magecraft wasn't overly difficult. But to direct each individual document to its respective place elsewhere took very delicate mana control. Seeing her do this as though it were a matter of course—and without a chat, at that—made Theodore's eyes widen in amazement.
Halfway through, she suddenly froze. "Ah...right. My disguise."
She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a pair of simple glasses. After slipping them on, she straightened her white coat and studied her reflection in the glass cabinet. The glasses were no ordinary accessory—they were enchanted with a mild optical illusion spell. A clever idea from Nero, the small familiar who is hiding in her shadow.
The disguise had become necessary after a certain incident. One moonlight night, while fulfilling her uncle's peculiar request for rare moonflowers, Lillian had accidentally crossed paths with her soulmate. The encounter had ended awkwardly—so awkwardly that she'd sworn to make herself unrecognizable should they meet again.
And now, she thought, pushing up her glasses, no one would suspect a thing.
The morning passed quietly as Lillian continued cleaning, occasionally glancing toward the back room where her uncle had already secluded himself with his research. Then, just as she was stacking a pile of files, a commotion broke out outside.
"Is there a medical officer here? Excuse me—"
Lillian froze. She knew that voice. When she turned toward the door, the sunlight from the corridor framed two figures: a handsome blond boy with piercing blue eyes and a beautiful blond girl with amber eyes clinging to his arm.
Lillian recognized them instantly. The Second Imperial Prince and, beside him, the daughter of Marquis Tara.
"Are you...a student?" Felix asked, looking at her curiously. "You seem quite young."
Lillian smiled politely, adjusting her glasses. He didn't recognize her—good. It's only natural for him to wonder, she thought. After all, she was the same age as the students, and her uncle had disappeared into his lab again, leaving her alone to handle the infirmary.
The room itself looked functional enough—though it clearly bore the signs of a shut-in doctor. Beside the medicine cabinet hung several handwritten notes:
"For minor injuries, apply compresses here."
"For serious conditions, ring the bell."
"Visitors, please record your name and year."
Lillian sighed inwardly. "He could at least act like a professional once in a while."
Still, her uncle's medicine was the best in the academy. That, combined with their family's noble status, likely explained why no one had dared to replace him yet. She suspected that, more than anything, she had been hired to handle patients for him.
"My name is Lillian, assistant medical officer of Serendia Academy," she said, giving a graceful bow. "Although I may look young, I am a certified practitioner. If you wish to speak with Chief Officer Islar, I can call him at once."
Her training in noble etiquette showed her poise and tone—perfectly suitable for addressing royalty without giving her identity.
"Assistant medical officer...? I've heard rumors of you," Felix said thoughtfully. "So, you're taking advantage of the grade-skipping system."
Not quite, Lillian thought, but she simply smiled instead of correcting him.
"I could have sworn we've met before," he added, frowning slightly.
"No, I rarely leave the infirmary," she said smoothly. "It must be your imagination. Now, what seems to be the injury?"
Nero's faint voice whispered from the shadows near her feet. "The illusion magic is holding..."
"Good," Lillian muttered under her breath. "Let's keep it that way."
She guided the lady—Bridget—to a chair, motioning for Prince Felix to sit opposite her. Bridget's ankle was slightly swollen, a mild sprain at most. Lillian knelt gracefully, wrapping a cool compress around the girl's foot after applying some medicine to help with the pain.
"That should do...Try not to put too much wait on it."
Prince Felix didn't seem to recognize Lillian at all. In fact, he didn't even appear particularly curious about her at first. After ensuring that Bridget had safely left the infirmary, however, he turned back toward Lillian, his expression thoughtful.
"I'm sure you're the same age as me," he said. "It's quite unusual to be working at this age, especially in a position like this."
Lillian blinked, unsure how to respond. There was a glint in his deep blue eyes--not suspicious but intrigue. He looked...interested.
A typical noble lady of their age would be spending her days attending evening gatherings or perfecting her etiquette lessons in hopes of finding a suitable match. If she was fortunate enough to attend the academy, she would spend her time building connections and securing her future.
Very few students skipped grades or completed the correspondence program. The ones who did often stood out, and not in a good way. Lillian hadn't expected anyone to take notice of her. She was simply a medical assistant, working quietly behind the scenes. Yet somehow, she'd managed to draw the second prince's attention.
A medical officer's assistant.Of all people!
"I had a fateful encounter few months ago," Felix continued, his tone light. "And perhaps your silhouette resemble that person a little...I find myself curious about you."
Lillian froze. She felt her smile falter. "A fateful encounter, is it? Well...good luck with that. I'll be cheering for you from afar."
Felix chuckled softly. "You don't seem to have any ulterior motives, so perhaps I'll talk to you from time to time."
Wait, how did we here here? She blinked, stunned. Her seemed so casual, as if declaring friendship with a near-stranger was the most natural thing in the world.
"Sometimes," he added, "it's easier to talk to someone I don't know at all."
"Um...I'm not sure I'd make a suitable conversation partner for Your Imperial Highness," Lillian replied nervously. "Surely there are people far more appropriate than me..."
Her voice trailed off, but Felix only smiled. "Perhaps. But it's hard to find people without ulterior motives. When I do, I make sure to keep them close."
Lillian understood what he meant. As the second prince, he must have been surrounded by those seeking favor or influence. To him, genuine interactions were a rarity and recognizing sincerity had become second nature.
He isn't naive. He is cautious.