(First-person, Mavis)
If you see a message like the one above, it likely means the perspective for the chapter is different.
I walked down the eastern dormitory corridor with Jerry draped over my shoulders like an entitled scarf, his tiny wings twitching with irritation every few steps. My newly printed class schedule crinkled in my hand as I reread it for the tenth—maybe eleventh—time.
Magic Theory — S Rank
Swordsmanship — S Rank
World History — Pending placement
Summon Training — B Rank
Literature — Pending placement
Alchemy — Pending placement
Policy & Aristocracy — Noble Exclusive — Pending placement
I stopped mid-stride.
"How," I muttered aloud, "did I get S rank in anything? I almost drowned myself and then got stabbed."
Jerry flicked his tail. He had already seen the list.
"I should be offended," he hissed, voice dripping with righteous indignation. "Summon Training — B rank?" His scales darkened in offense. "I am Jörmungandr. The serpent of the sea. The bane of the gods. The devourer of—"
"You bit a man's pant leg yesterday," I reminded him.
"That is irrelevant."
I snorted.
He puffed himself up dramatically. "They dare rank me among mediocre beasts? B rank?" He sounded like he might explode. "Do they not sense my divinity? My power? My majesty?"
"You're the size of a boot," I said.
He snapped around to glare at my ear. "Size does not define might."
"Sure," I mused. "But it does define classroom seating."
Jerry hissed in pure betrayal.
I sighed and kept walking.
The dorm hall was surprisingly elegant compared to the chaos of the exams. Tall ceilings arched overhead in blue-tinged stone, embroidered banners of each kingdom lining the walls. Chandeliers hung like floating crystalline stars. Noble students drifted through the hall in small groups, their laughter soft, almost bored—like they were used to luxury being handed to them with breakfast.
I tightened my grip on my schedule.
"So… S rank," I whispered to myself.
Jerry coiled tighter around my neck. "Your swordsmanship ranking is valid. You are ruthless."
"That's not a compliment."
"But true."
I grumbled.
The truth was that I had no idea how I ended up in the highest classes. My kingdom—back when I lived behind the fog—had schools, yes. But classes weren't ranked like this. Students were grouped based on performance and stayed in the same class until they graduated. No shuffling, no promotions, no demotions.
This system of proving yourself every term was foreign.
And slightly terrifying.
"You should not fret," Jerry said with a dignified tone. "With my guidance, you may ascend beyond even S rank."
"Is that possible?"
"No," he admitted. "But it sounded encouraging."
I groaned and continued down the corridor.
My boots echoed against polished stone floors. Carved wooden doors lined the walls, each engraved with swirling runes that shimmered faintly whenever a student approached. Magical security. Fancy.
My stomach churned a little at the thought.
A noble roommate.
"This is going to be a disaster," I muttered.
"No," Jerry corrected, "you are going to be a disaster. I am flawless."
"Do you ever stop talking?"
"No."
The hallway curved gently, opening into a round tower nook. A brass plaque on the wall listed room numbers and names. My gaze tracked down the rows until I found mine:
Room 318 — Mavis Van Buqeat / Seraphina Valefleur
I froze.
Jerry perked up. "What? Why did you stop?"
"Jerry…" I whispered. "My roommate is a Valefleur."
He paused. "Is that significant?"
"Jerry. Valefleur."
Blank stare.
"They're the ruling family of Fides."
Jerry blinked.
Diagnostic pause.
Then—
"Oh. Oh no."
"Yeah."
"You're rooming with the princess."
"I KNOW."
He coiled around me like a panicked ribbon. "Flee. Immediately. Jump out the window. Hide in a barrel. Fake your death—it is the only way."
"Jerry."
"We need a boat. Or a hole. Or—"
"Jerry."
"—perhaps I can eat her—"
"JERRY."
He fell silent.
I took a deep breath.
A princess.
The princess.
Seraphina