Flashback
After I quit ballet at La Tassaint Academy of Arts, the following spring, I began my studies at Dalincour, the Royal Academy of Meuracevia, at the age of 15. Stepping onto its grand campus for the first time, I was struck by the sprawling courtyards, the ivy-clad buildings, and the quiet majesty of the academy halls. Unlike La Tassaint, where every step seemed weighed down by expectation, Dalincour felt alive with possibility.
Life at Dalincour was fun and carefree, a welcome change from the rigid discipline I had left behind. The laughter of students echoed through the corridors, and the classrooms were filled with lively debates and creative projects. Slowly, the memories of La Tassaint—both the hard lessons and the sting of failure—began to fade into the background, though they never completely disappeared.
I spent my days like any other girl my age, diving into schoolwork, exploring the dormitory nooks, and spending endless hours with my new friends—Rowaine, Luna, and Sally. We were all 15, all newcomers to Dalincour, and quickly formed a bond that felt unbreakable. Together, we got into harmless trouble, argued over trivial matters, laughed until our sides hurt, and sometimes cried when the homesickness or teenage drama became too heavy. Every shared moment stitched our friendship tighter, giving me a sense of belonging I hadn't realized I'd been craving.
The first year passed in a whirlwind of memories: late-night study sessions lit by candlelight, spring dances under the academy's glass ceiling, and secret trips into the surrounding gardens when the teachers weren't looking. By the time I turned 16, I had not only grown accustomed to the rhythm of Dalincour life but had begun to treasure it.
Dalincour's calendar was uniquely structured: students lived in the dormitory and attended classes during the spring and fall terms, with breaks in the summer and winter. I completed the first term of my second year with a sense of satisfaction, proud of the strides I had made both academically and personally.
Then, just as the summer break was approaching, the school made an unexpected announcement. To celebrate Dalincour's 100th anniversary, it would hold a special ceremony before the break. The announcement promised a grand event, a party unlike any the academy had ever seen, with alumni returning from across the country and honored guests from far beyond Dalincour's gates. The excitement among students was palpable; whispers of gowns, dances, and speeches filled every corner of the dormitory and classroom alike.
---
The excitement in the dormitory was contagious. Posters about the 100th anniversary celebration of Dalincour Royal Academy were everywhere, and students whispered eagerly about who would attend, what performances might be held, and, most importantly, the masquerade afterparty. For me, the anticipation was almost unbearable. I wanted everything about that night to feel magical.
We had received the formal invitation, embossed with gold lettering and the academy's crest, and the thought of attending such a grand event made my heart race. Even the afterparty was a thrill—an opportunity to wear masks, gowns, and, perhaps, for one night, step into a world that felt far older and more sophisticated than the everyday halls of Dalincour.
I immediately began planning. My dress had arrived a few days earlier—it was a soft, flowing gown with delicate embroidery that shimmered under the light. I admired it over and over, twirling in front of the dormitory mirror and imagining the grand hall filled with students, alumni, and teachers. But something was missing. To feel truly elegant, truly grown-up for this once-in-a-lifetime night, I needed shoes that matched. High heels.
I summoned the courage to call my mom from the dormitory telephone room. My heart thumped as I waited for her familiar voice.
"Hi, Mommy. It's me," I began, trying to sound casual. "I received the dress we picked out together the other day. Yes. And… could you send me another pair of shoes? I'd like to try wearing high heels that night."
There was a pause on the other end.
"High heels? Hmm… I'd prefer you not wear heels until you're of age. Why do you want a pair? Could it be that you've got yourself a boyfriend?"
I blushed at the thought. "B-boyfriend? No way! I wanted to look nice for the party, that's all. Can I wear them just this once? Pretty please? Because I wanted that day to feel extra special."
After a little more convincing, my mom agreed. A few days later, a neatly wrapped package arrived at the dormitory. I tore it open eagerly, and there they were—sleek, elegant heels that seemed to call my name.
I slipped them on, feeling a thrill run through me as I stood up and looked into the mirror. The effect was instantaneous. I was taller, poised, and suddenly carried a confidence I hadn't felt before.
"Wow," I whispered to myself, spinning slightly. "Look how much taller I am. Amazing. I feel like a full-fledged grown-up. I like it. I'm so excited for the celebration! I can't wait to wear my dress and walk around the party in these heels."
The mirror reflected not just the image of my outfit, but the excitement bubbling inside me. That night at Dalincour's 100th anniversary wasn't just another school event—it was a chance to step into a world that felt entirely mine, if only for a few magical hours.
The morning of the celebration was filled with an unusual buzz around the dormitory. Everyone was talking about what they would wear, how they would style their hair, and, of course, the masquerade masks. I could hardly focus on breakfast, my mind flitting between my gown, my new high heels, and the excitement of seeing the academy transformed for the centennial.
Then, as I was adjusting my dress in the common room, Sally came rushing up to me, practically bouncing with excitement. Her eyes sparkled as she leaned in close and whispered, "HUGE news! I just happened to overhear what the teachers were discussing… and apparently, they're going to set off some fireworks during the masquerade! Isn't it exciting?"
I blinked in surprise. Although Sally had spoiled the surprise, I couldn't help grinning. The idea of fireworks added an entirely new level of wonder to the night ahead. I had never seen them before, but I had heard people describe them as stars scattered across the sky, or tiny lights blooming like flowers, bright and fleeting in the dark. The thought of witnessing that for the first time, while dressed up and walking through the grand halls of Dalincour, sent a shiver of exhilaration down my spine.
The end-of-term celebration, the masquerade, my first pair of high heels, and now fireworks… my heart raced at the thought of it all. Every detail seemed to make the night feel more magical, more like something out of a dream than a school event.
At last, the day of the celebration arrived. Stepping into the grand hall, I immediately noticed how different it felt to attend a party as a student, rather than as my mother's daughter or my grandmother's granddaughter. Those family events had always been elegant, yes, but formal and restrained. Here, I could truly let loose, laugh freely, and enjoy myself without the weight of expectation. The excitement swelled in my chest as I realized I was about to experience the party entirely on my own terms.
Attending the party as a student felt markedly different from the formal events I had gone to before on behalf of my family. Here, I could let loose, laugh freely, and immerse myself in the atmosphere without the weight of expectation. The day had flown by in a whirl of excitement, conversation, and fleeting glances at the decorations that lined the grand halls. Soon, it would be time for the fireworks—a spectacle I had been eagerly anticipating since Sally had spoiled the surprise.
Finally, my friends arrived for the afterparty, dressed in their elegant gowns and adorned with masks that shimmered under the chandelier lights. They had apparently run into people on their way, exchanging greetings and pleasantries before joining me.
"EEK! We just saw your parents and grandmother! Your brother, too!" one of them exclaimed breathlessly. "Your mother even remembered my name and said hello! She was so kind and beautiful! Sorry we're late. We were greeting some people we ran into on our way here after changing into our dresses. Are you really not going to change into your afterparty dress?"
I shook my head, adjusting the simple mask I had chosen to wear over my formal dress. "Yeah, I'm fine. I don't care if people recognize me. Where's Rowaine?"
"She said she wanted to be with Kloudi for the afterparty… and that we should watch the fireworks by ourselves."
"Traitor! How could she abandon us like that for her boyfriend?! Hmph!" Sally huffed in frustration.
Then her eyes darted around the room. "By the way, do you see that group of boys stealing glances at us?"
I followed her gaze. "Oh, it's Dean Clampter and his friends. I can tell it's him by his muscular frame. What about it?"
The celebration itself was wonderful. The music, the lights, and the chatter of students and alumni alike created a heady, magical atmosphere. But as the evening wore on, I became acutely aware of my own discomfort. My feet, which had been bothering me since the afternoon when I first tried on my high heels, were now screaming in pain. Every step felt like a battle, the throbbing growing sharper with each passing moment.
My excitement was dimmed by the ache in my feet. The heels that had once made me feel tall and confident now felt like instruments of torture. My feet are killing me… I don't think I can wear these shoes anymore, I thought, shifting my weight from one foot to the other as I tried to maintain a composed smile.
Even amidst the glamour, the sparkle of the masquerade, and the laughter of my friends, I couldn't ignore the relentless pain that threatened to steal the joy of the night from me.
The afterparty buzzed with excitement, the chandeliers casting shimmering patterns across the ballroom walls, and the chatter of students filling the air. My friends arrived, all sparkling in their masks and elegant gowns, and immediately began recounting their encounters with people they'd run into on the way.
"EEK! We just saw your parents and grandmother! Your brother, too!" one of them exclaimed breathlessly. "Your mother even remembered my name and said hello! She was so kind and beautiful! Sorry we're late. We were greeting some people we ran into on our way here after changing into our dresses. Are you really not going to change into your afterparty dress?"
I shook my head, though the effort was a little more painful than usual. "Yeah, I'm fine. I don't care if people recognize me," I replied, the high heels still stabbing at my feet with every movement. Why did I think I could survive the whole evening in these things? I wondered.
"Where's Rowaine?" I asked, hoping my friend wouldn't get too upset at the mention of her absence.
"She said she wanted to be with Kloudi for the afterparty… and that we should watch the fireworks by ourselves," Sally informed me.
"Traitor! How could she abandon us like that for her boyfriend?! Hmph!" Sally grumbled.
Then, as if noticing something more interesting, her gaze shifted. "By the way, do you see that group of boys stealing glances at us?"
I turned and noticed a group of handsome young men nearby. My heart gave a tiny skip. "Oh, it's Dean Clampter and his friends. I can tell it's him by his muscular frame. What about it?"
"I overheard them on my way over here," my friend whispered conspiratorially. "And they also seem to be aware of the fact that there will be fireworks going off tonight."
"Well, word got out. Most students know about it already," I replied, trying to sound casual, though a little thrill ran through me at the mention of fireworks.
"Yeah, but you know what's interesting? When the fireworks start going off… Dean's going to confess to you!"
My other friend gasped, her hands covering her mouth. "Oh, how romantic! I didn't know he was interested in you! You should've told us!!!"
I blinked, completely thrown off. "Huh? If this is a joke, it's not a very funny one! What are you two going on about?"
They giggled knowingly. "Ignore her, Serena. I envy you, Serena. Getting to date a handsome, popular guy like that… I'd love to be held in those muscular arms..." one of them gushed dreamily.
"What are you saying?! I don't even know him that well! He spoke to me a few times, and I answered him, that's all!" I exclaimed, feeling my face heat up.
They just laughed softly. "Well, we think it's funny!"
"Hey! What's the matter? Dean Clampter is quite the catch! He's handsome, well-mannered, popular, and his father is an air force officer, so you know he comes from a good family. And he's two years older than us, which is perfect! AAAAAHHHHH!" they blabbered in unison.
"Sally, stop it! I'm not interested!" I insisted firmly, though I couldn't deny a small flutter in my chest at all the attention. "I'm just going to focus on the fireworks tonight. You know how much I've been looking forward to this. I don't want my viewing to be interrupted by someone I don't even know that well."
Even as I tried to steer the conversation back to the spectacle I had been anticipating all day, a small, unavoidable part of me couldn't help noticing Dean Clampter and the subtle, confident way he carried himself. But no matter how distracting, the fireworks were my priority tonight.
Here's an expanded version of your full narrative up to the passage you provided, keeping the "I" perspective, tone, and details intact:
---
After I quit ballet at La Tassaint Academy of Arts, the following spring, I began my studies at Dalincour, the Royal Academy of Meuracevia, at the age of 15. Fortunately, life in Dalincour was fun and carefree, which helped me block out the painful memories of La Tassaint, at least to some extent.
I spent my days there like any other girl my age—getting into trouble, arguing, laughing, and crying with my new friends—Rowaine, Luna, and Sally—fellow 15-year-olds who entered Dalincour the same time I did. Together, we explored the sprawling halls, sneaked out to the gardens during breaks, and shared secrets and laughter in the dormitory late at night.
After wrapping up my first year at Dalincour—a fun-filled year of unforgettable memories with friends, classmates, and teachers—I turned 16 the following year. The academy's calendar had students living in the dormitory and attending classes in the spring and fall, with breaks in the summer and winter. I completed the first term of my second year, and right before the summer break started, the school announced a very special occasion: to celebrate Dalincour's 100th anniversary, it would hold a grand ceremony with alumni and invited guests.
We received the formal invitation for the 100th anniversary celebration. To my delight, the afterparty was going to be a masquerade. I immediately began planning my outfit and, wanting to feel grown-up for once, called my mom from the dormitory telephone room.
"Hi, Mommy. It's me. I received the dress we picked out together the other day. Yes. And… could you send me another pair of shoes? I'd like to try wearing high heels that night."
My mom's voice held both caution and curiosity. "High heels? Hmm… I'd prefer you not wear heels until you're of age. Why do you want a pair? Could it be that you've got yourself a boyfriend?"
"B-boyfriend? No way! I just want to look nice for the party, that's all. Can I wear them just this once? Pretty please? Because I want that day to feel extra special."
A few days later, the high heels arrived. I slipped them on eagerly, marveling at the transformation. "Wow, look how much taller I am. Amazing. I feel like a full-fledged grown-up. I like it. I'm so excited for the celebration! I can't wait to wear my dress and walk around the party in these heels."
The day of the celebration finally arrived. It felt different from any formal party I had attended, as I could truly let loose and enjoy myself. Sally whispered that the school was planning fireworks during the masquerade. Although the surprise was ruined, it made me look forward to the party even more—I had never seen fireworks before, and the thought of tiny lights blooming like flowers in the night sky thrilled me.
But as the party went on, the high heels that had once made me feel so grown-up began to betray me. My feet ached intensely, the throbbing making each step a challenge. My friends noticed immediately.
"Oh… to be honest, these shoes are killing me. I think I've had them on for too long," I admitted, wincing as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
"Oh no! Go to the dormitory and change into another pair! It's right next door," they insisted, their voices full of concern.
"But the fireworks will start soon…" I murmured, torn between comfort and the spectacle I had been anticipating.
Then they spotted someone approaching. "Huh? Oh! Look, Dean's coming this way. Wow, he's even got flowers in his hand—"
The girls squealed with excitement, convinced Dean Clampter was about to confess to me. They gushed about how popular, handsome, and well-mannered he was. But I couldn't focus on anything but my aching feet.
"Sally, stop it! I'm not interested! I'm just going to focus on the fireworks tonight. I don't want my viewing to be interrupted by someone I don't even know that well."
The sight of Dean approaching, flowers in hand, finally tipped the scales. My resolve crumbled under the pressure of both pain and awkwardness.
"I-I'M GOING TO GO CHANGE MY SHOES!!!" I shouted, darting away from the group. "Tell him you didn't see me!"
My friends called after me, frantic but encouraging. "Serena, they're going to set off the fireworks shortly! Come to the clock tower in ten minutes! I heard that's where we'll have the best view!"
"All right! See you at the clock tower in ten minutes!" I shouted back, determination fueling my steps. I needed to change my shoes quickly if I wanted to enjoy the fireworks without the distraction of pain.
As I hurried along, my eyes caught the uneven stone path ahead. "Oh no… the paving here has been in bad shape for a while… they're finally fixing it. But this is the shortcut to the dormitory… I have no other choice. I can't go around; there isn't enough time."
I started running on the hundred-year-old stone floor, racing toward the dormitory to change my shoes before the fireworks began, my heart pounding both from the urgency and anticipation.
---
Anxious energy coursed through my veins, a cold counterpoint to the lingering warmth of the masquerade I had just fled. I clutched the billowing fabric of my lavender gown, the delicate lace of my feathered mask doing little to steady the frantic beating of my heart.
I only have a few minutes left. I need to hurry…
The night air was sharp and cold, carrying with it the faint scent of roses from the gardens below. I knew what that meant: the magic maintaining my disguise was already starting to fade. Every second counted.
I stood at the edge of the grand staircase, my eyes scanning the path ahead. The shortcut through the old garden stones was treacherous, but there was no time to take the long way back.
The paving here has been in bad shape for a while… they're finally fixing it. But this is the shortcut to the dormitory… I have no other choice. I can't go around; there isn't enough time.
The "hundred-year-old stone floor" was uneven and slick under the pale moonlight. Shadows pooled in the cracks, and my mask narrowed my field of vision, making it nearly impossible to judge the dangerous gaps ahead.
It's dark, and my mask makes it hard to see where I'm going, but… I'll just be careful.
I took a shaky step. My elegant white heel, adorned with a delicate gold brooch, clicked sharply against the stone. Each echoing sound made my heart pound faster.
PANICKED, I realized I was moving too fast. The combination of haste, poor light, and the restrictive mask was a recipe for disaster.
A sudden, jarring sensation: SINK. My body lurched violently.
"ACK!"
I flailed, my arms reaching for balance.
WHOA, I almost fell. My heel is stuck!
The thin stiletto had wedged itself in a gap between the ancient stones. I planted my other foot firmly, tugging at the shoe again and again. TUG, TUG.
UGH, I don't have time for this… Why won't it come out?!
I yanked with all my strength, the desperation blinding me to everything else.
Then came a sickening SNAP.
The heel sheared cleanly from the shoe.
"AHHH!"
The loss of balance was immediate. My foot slipped on the smooth stone, and the ground rushed up to meet me.
FLOP.
I landed hard on my side. The fine fabric of my gown crumpled beneath me. My mask slid precariously, obscuring my vision completely.
"ACK! I fell."
I scrambled to sit up, eyes watering in frustration. The clock in my head was ticking down mercilessly.
OH NO… IT'S COMPLETELY STUCK.
The front of the shoe remained wedged stubbornly in the pavement. TUG, TUG. I hunched over in my ballgown and mask, pulling desperately, feeling ridiculous yet powerless.
UGH, what terrible luck! I don't have time for this…
A cold shiver ran up my spine as the glow of my gown began to dim. My transformation—the magic that had allowed me to feel and look like myself in this enchanted guise—was beginning to fade. I had to make a choice:
Save the shoe and risk being caught…
Leave the shoe and save myself…*
Tears of frustration stung my eyes as I made the only possible decision. I tore my foot free of the remaining shoe, leaving it behind like a forgotten glass slipper.
Now I had one elegant heel and one bare foot. Heart pounding, I turned and fled into the darkness, the broken white shoe lying as a stark, tell-tale reminder on the ancient stone floor.
I was still sitting awkwardly on the cold, hard stone, tugging futilely at the remnants of my broken shoe, a picture of complete failure and desperation. The glittering fabric of my lavender gown was crumpled beneath me, and my mask had shifted slightly, obscuring part of my vision.
I guess I yelled too loudly when I fell! How embarrassing… I thought, my cheeks heating beneath the silk. Each passing second felt heavier than the last; I had already wasted precious minutes, and the fireworks would start soon.
Then, cutting through the echoing stillness of the stone path, I heard it: a decisive STEP, deliberate and measured, approaching over the uneven pavement.
I lifted my gaze, and my breath caught.
WOW. HE'S TALL.
He moved with a fluid elegance that seemed almost unnatural for this place. He wore a tailored dark blue suit with crisp white piping, a perfectly pressed waistcoat, and immaculate white gloves. His mask was sleek, black, and adorned with a dramatic feather that mirrored my own. Everything about him radiated authority and poise, yet it was entirely unexpected here, among students running to their afterparty.
Who is this guy? I thought. He… doesn't look like a student. An alumnus?
He paused above me, casting a long shadow that stretched across the uneven stones. He didn't speak. He didn't offer a hand or ask if I was okay. He simply bent down in one smooth, fluid lean, eyes fixed on the piece of heel wedged stubbornly in the stone.
My jaw tightened in disbelief. He… he knows exactly what's wrong without a word?
His gloved hand reached toward the trapped heel. With a single, casual motion—YANK—it came free, the heel popping out with an ease that made my previous frantic efforts feel absurd.
"Whoa… he pulled it out so easily…" I whispered under my breath, a flush of humiliation and astonishment burning my cheeks. My whole clumsy struggle had been witnessed by this imposing, mysterious figure.
He straightened, holding the broken heel effortlessly in one hand, and took a deliberate step toward me. The golden light from the nearby lanterns caught the sharp contours of his face beneath the mask, highlighting a jawline so defined it seemed almost sculpted. His presence was overwhelming—silent yet commanding.
Then, as if the gesture itself spoke volumes, he extended his arm, offering the ivory-colored broken heel back to me. The air between us seemed to thicken with unspoken words—judgment, curiosity, or perhaps something entirely different.
I looked up at him, my pulse racing, and reached out with fumbling fingers to take the piece of plastic and gold. My hand brushed against his gloved one, cool and perfectly smooth, and for a moment, it felt as if all the noise of the masquerade and the world around us had vanished.
The broken chunk suddenly felt unbearably heavy in my palm, not from its weight, but from the intensity of the moment itself. My lips parted slightly, but the words that came out were weak and barely audible:
"Th… thank you…"
He said nothing, only stood there, watching. My cheeks flamed hotter, and I desperately wished the ground would open beneath me. The silence lingered, thick and meaningful this time, a pause heavier than any spoken word.
And all the while, the clock was still ticking. The fireworks, the afterparty, and my frantic race to the dormitory were still waiting—but for a single suspended moment, it was just the two of us, the stone path, and the broken heel in my trembling hand.
I sat frozen on the cold, uneven stone, the broken heel still clutched in my trembling fingers. My entire body felt heavy with embarrassment, and I couldn't seem to look anywhere but at the polished black of his mask. Behind it, his eyes were sharp, steady, and impossibly composed, as if nothing in the world could rattle him.
Then, the silence broke. His voice was low, smooth, and unexpectedly soft. The words drifted over me on the night air, almost gentle enough to brush against my skin:
"Shall I help you to your feet?"
My head lifted sharply at the sound. Oh…
His right hand extended toward me, encased in the pristine white glove of impeccable tailoring. It was formal, yet there was an undeniable warmth in the gesture, an unspoken invitation of trust.
The subtle, crisp scent of his cologne—sharp, refined, and quietly luxurious—reached me, enveloping me in a wave of awareness that made my face burn. His effortless presence, the ease with which he had solved my predicament, and the simplicity of his offer… it all made me painfully aware of my own awkwardness.
My heart hammered violently against my ribs: BA-BUMP, BA-BUMP. My hands shook uncontrollably, fingers tightening reflexively around the broken heel and the hem of my gown. Should I accept his help? If I stood, he would immediately notice my missing left shoe. The thought of revealing my disaster in such an intimate way made my cheeks flare hotter than I thought possible.
I stared at his outstretched hand, caught between pride and necessity. Either I could attempt to rise on my own, risking a humiliating wobble on one foot, or I could place my trembling hand in his, risking contact that would surely feel far too intimate for the situation.
Critical seconds ticked by. My breath caught in my throat. I could feel the heat of the night pressing against my skin, the cool breeze brushing over the smooth fabric of my gown, the distant sounds of the masquerade echoing faintly behind the walls. Time itself seemed to have slowed, leaving only me and him in a fragile, charged silence.
And then…
A sudden roar ripped through the night sky.
PEWWW.
A brilliant golden streak shot upward, blinding in its sudden intensity. My eyes instinctively followed the trail as it exploded into a cascade of glittering light, sparks raining down like molten stars over the academy grounds.
The distraction was immediate and total. Everyone's gaze, including his, was momentarily pulled skyward.
This was my chance. I couldn't waste another second.
The man and I remained frozen in that awkward tableau—I on the ground, clutching my broken heel, he kneeling slightly, his hand suspended in an offer of assistance—when suddenly, the night erupted.
BOOM.
The sound tore through the garden, a thunderous crack that swallowed the hushed atmosphere around us. My heart leapt—not from fear, but from awe. My very first firework had gone off.
Above the academy grounds, a streak of brilliant gold soared into the night sky, exploding into a cascading shower of pink and amber sparks. The display illuminated everything with a fleeting, surreal brilliance. I tilted my head back, mesmerized by the dancing lights, feeling my pulse synchronize with the rhythmic bursts of color.
For a moment, the world shifted into a strange, magical stillness. I caught a glimpse of him—the dark, severe lines of his mask softened by the firelight, eyes fixed intently on the spectacle above. There was a raw, almost unguarded captivation in his gaze, a silent wonder mirrored in the flickering shadows on his face.
And in that precise instant, I saw my opportunity.
I didn't hesitate. Time was slipping through my fingers, and the fireworks had drawn his attention fully upward. I scrambled backward, shoving myself away from his extended hand. My broken heel and the intact shoe pressed tightly against my chest beneath the folds of my gown, each movement careful yet desperate. My bare foot slid on the rough stone, chilled and scraped, but I ignored it completely.
I pushed myself upright, wobbling slightly, and refused to spare him even a glance. The sky continued to erupt above me, bursts of gold, pink, and amber casting shifting shadows that danced across the gardens. The distant applause and cheers from the ballroom floated faintly on the breeze, providing a perfect auditory shield for my clumsy retreat.
Behind me, the man remained kneeling, silhouetted against the kaleidoscope of firelight, utterly absorbed in the first grand display of the evening. His poised, commanding figure contrasted sharply with my frantic, uneven steps.
Forgive me, I thought, a silent apology for the kindness he had shown. I can't be seen here.
Turning my back on him and the dazzling light show, I hurried—half-limping, half-running—toward the shadows, racing along the fastest route back to the dormitory. The broken heel lay behind me, a dangerous piece of evidence, like a tiny glass slipper abandoned in haste. I had no choice but to keep moving.
The thrill of the fireworks, the pounding of my heart, and the sting of my bare foot combined into a dizzying, urgent energy propelling me forward. Each step brought me closer to safety—and further away from the mysterious man whose brief, silent intervention had saved me from complete disaster.









ADDITIONAL BACKGROUND INFORMATION ON DALINCOUR!
INFORMATION ON DALINCOUR PREVIOUSLY
PROVIDED ON EPISODES 9, 13, 54, 61
Tip's
◆ Dalincour was established in order to bring together and educate the next generation of the upper class to ensure the stability and prosperity of Meuracevia and peace and harmony between the kingdom's rich and powerful.
Since the school was founded at the behest of the Meuracevian king and the pope, each pope has also served as headmaster throughout all 100 years of Dalincour's history. The school has an oratory and regularly holds masses, but participation is completely voluntary, and there are no religious overtones in classes.
◆ In the past, admission was compulsory, but it is now simply recommended. However, Dalincour's educational facility is the best in the kingdom, its environment highly conducive to learning and its classes taught by teachers who are renowned in their respective fields, and it serves as a hub for prospective leaders and heads of influential families to socialize with each other, forging close ties or business connections, and as such, admission has always been highly competitive at both the main and branch campus.
◆ All of Dalincour's students live in dormitories and are
learning and its classes taught by teachers who are renowned in their respective fields, and it serves as a hub for prospective leaders and heads of influential families to socialize with each other, forging close ties or business connections, and as such, admission has always been highly competitive at both the main and branch campus.
All of Dalincour's students live in dormitories and are subject to a demerit system. A student who receives too many demerits for breaking the rules would be expelled.
Classes are held in the spring and fall, and there is a break in the summer and winter. Students graduate after four terms and three breaks.
YEAR 1
ENTRANCE CEREMONY
(CLASSES)
(SUMMER BREAK)
(CLASSES)
(WINTER BREAK)
YEAR 2
(
CLASSES)-(SUMMER BREAK)
(CLASSES)
GRADUA FON
Students must wear the school uniform. They are not allowed to bring their own attendants, but are assigned assistants who are called "helpers."
Entrance and end-of-term ceremonies are held at each respective campus. Commencement is held at the main campus with students from both the main campus and the branch campus attending.
◆ Upon graduation, students receive a diploma, badge, cap, and gown, which become a symbol of prestige for a noble family. Those who graduated summa cum laude from main campus also receive a special trophy, which is a great honor and symbolizes their family's elite status.
◆ Upon graduation, students receive a diploma, badge, cap, and gown, which become a symbol of prestige for a noble family. Those who graduated summa cum laude from main campus also receive a special trophy, which is a great honor and symbolizes their family's elite status.
Meuracevian children commonly receive basic education at home with either their parents or tutors, then graduate from either Dalincour or a regular school in adolescence. Those who wish to pursue further studies would go on to attend graduate school.
Graduation information of key characters
Eiser - graduated summa cum laude from main campus
Serena - graduated summa cum laude from main campus
Iansa graduated summa cum laude from main campus
As professor emeritus, she taught a special class on economics for two years.
Bellatia - graduated magna cum laude from maincampus
Tylord - graduated summa cum laude from main campus
Bellatia and Tylord were in the same cohort.
Diah - graduated from main campus
Victor expelled from main campus
Harper - graduated magna cum laude from main campus
Lovis - graduated from main campus
They were in the same coltorf as Elser.
Bellatia - graduated magna cum laude from maincampus
Tylord - graduated summa cum laude from main campus
Bellatia and Tylord were in the same cohort:
Diah - graduated from main campus
Victor expelled from main campus
Harper - graduated magna cum laude from main campus
Lovis - graduated from main campus
They were in the same, ohort as fiser
THERE'S ACTUALLY
THERE'S ACTUALLY TONS OF DETAIL I CAME UP WITH ABOUT DALINCOUR... I LISTED THEM HERE BECAUSE I HAVE NO REASON TO INCLUDE IT IN THE MAIN STORY.
PLEASE READ IT...
I'D LIKE TO SHOW YOU LOTS OF LITTLE MOMENTS OF SERENA'S TIME AT DALINCOUR BUT THERE'S ALREADY A LOT TO TELL IN THE MAIN STORY ALONE TOO BAD...