"Hey, Dennis! Are you completely insane?!"
A voice, full of genuine indignation, tore through the silence of the academy courtyard.
After the ball had slammed into Rose's head with terrifying accuracy, three guys who had been playing nearby ran over to her.
Rose, whom the guard had managed to catch by the arms, felt the ground slipping from under her feet. Everything was swimming before her eyes, and an unpleasant ringing filled her ears.
One of the guys — a tall blonde with tousled hair and a guilty expression on his face — picked up the ball, which had treacherously bounced off the victim's head and rolled across the grass.
"Sorry..." the blonde approached, looking at Rose with genuine concern. "Are you alright?"
"Alright?! ALRIGHT?!"
Rose gritted her teeth so hard they nearly shattered.
These idiots had just nearly knocked her out, and they were asking if she was alright?!
The hit was so strong that if the guard hadn't supported her, she would definitely have collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes. And now her head was splitting as if a carriage had driven over it.
And, of course, there would be a bruise now. A huge, purple bruise that would glow like a lighthouse, attracting unwanted attention!
Rose opened her mouth to give those blockheads a piece of her mind. A noble lady's arsenal contained plenty of refined insults.
But...
She closed her mouth.
No.
She couldn't.
If she caused a scene now, she would draw attention to herself. And attention was the last thing someone who had infiltrated a men's academy illegally and with forged documents needed.
Besides, Director Almus's warning was still ringing in her ears like an alarm bell.
"Three violations and you're out."
She couldn't get expelled. She hadn't found her brother yet.
So Rose took a deep breath, mentally counted to ten, and forced out a falsely calm:
"I'm... fine."
"Oh, thank the gods!" the blonde exhaled with relief. "Forgive me, it was an accident. We were just playing, and Dennis miscalculated his strength..."
He turned and pointed a finger at one of his friends — a guy with blue hair and glasses, who looked like he wanted to sink through the floor.
"He's the one at fault! Dennis, come here and apologize!"
The blue-haired guy — apparently the aforementioned Dennis — approached, nervously adjusting his glasses. His face burned with embarrassment.
"Please forgive me," he mumbled, looking at the floor. "I really didn't mean to. The ball just went the wrong way..."
Rose looked at him with an expression that could have frozen water.
"No, I won't forgive you."
No way.
Do you not have eyes? How can you throw a ball so that it hits the head of a person standing ten meters away?!
But through clenched teeth, she hissed:
"It's nothing."
The tone in which this was said clearly hinted that "it's nothing" was a huge understatement, but the guys didn't seem to notice anything.
The blonde beamed again.
"By the way, I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new?"
Rose sighed. It seemed getting rid of these idiots wouldn't be so easy.
"Yes. I enrolled just today."
"Wow!" the blonde's eyes lit up. "Which class are you in?"
Rose thought for a moment. Why did he need to know? What difference did it make?
But to satisfy his curiosity, she glanced at the documents she was still clutching in her hand. The Director had given her a whole pile of papers, and among them was her class number.
"S-1, I think," she muttered.
"S-1?!" the blonde actually jumped with joy. "The guys and I are from that class too! What a coincidence!"
Rose mentally groaned.
What joy. Simply incredible.
"So tomorrow's your first day of classes then?" the blonde continued his interrogation, oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm.
"Yes..."
"Cool! Listen, do you want the guys and me to give you a tour of the academy today? Show you everything, tell you where things are! It's easy to get lost on the first day!"
Rose politely but firmly shook her head.
"Thanks, but I'm tired from the journey. I want to rest."
"Ah, right, of course!" the blonde nodded understandingly. "Traveling is always exhausting. See you in class tomorrow then!"
"Okay," Rose replied dryly, hoping that would be the end of their interaction.
The blonde had already turned to leave but suddenly stopped and turned back.
"Oh, by the way!" he slapped his forehead. "What's your name? We've met, but I forgot to ask!"
Rose hesitated for a second. The name she had chosen for her legend still sounded foreign to her own ears.
"Ruven," she said. "Ruven Rosenberg."
"Ruven," the blonde repeated the name as if tasting it, and smiled broadly. "Nice name! I'm Zeke. Zeke Wilford. Well, see you!"
And he ran off to his friends, who had already resumed their game, tossing the ball around.
Rose watched him go with a heavy sigh.
Zeke Wilford.
She'd remember that name. Preferably to stay as far away from that guy as possible.
"Lord Rosenberg," the guard, who had been patiently waiting all this time, coughed. "Shall we continue?"
"Yes, of course."
They moved on towards the dormitory. Rose's head continued to throb with pain, and she instinctively pressed her palm against it, as if that might help.
Damn boys!
On the very first day — and she already gets hit in the head with a ball. What next? A brick falling on her?
As they walked, the previously silent guard suddenly spoke:
"Lord Rosenberg, I'd advise you to stay away from those guys."
"Hmm?" Rose looked up.
"Those students aren't exactly the most exemplary in the academy," the guard lowered his voice, even though no one was around. "Especially that blonde, Zeke Wilford. A real slacker. He already has two disciplinary warnings. One more and he'll be expelled without the right to reinstatement."
Rose frowned.
Two warnings? He seemed friendly enough.
"And the others?" she asked out of pure curiosity.
"Same crowd," the guard shook his head. "Constantly break rules, argue with professors, play small pranks. Stay away from them if you don't want trouble."
"Understood," Rose nodded. "Thanks for the warning."
She wasn't planning on getting involved with them anyway. She had a mission, and that mission was to find her brother, not make friends with the local hooligans.
***
The Arden Academy dormitory was exactly what the dormitory of a prestigious institution should be. A majestic three-story building, with wrought-iron grilles on the windows and a manicured lawn in front of the entrance.
Rose stopped at the gate, examining the structure.
Well. Money ruled the world, that was a fact. Everything here breathed luxury and prosperity. Even the dormitory looked like an expensive hotel.
She wondered how much tuition cost at a place like this? And more importantly — where did Gilbert get the funds?
More and more questions, and no answers yet.
Inside, the dormitory was no less impressive. Marble floors, high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, soft armchairs in the lobby. And a registration desk — exactly like in a hotel.
Rose approached the desk, gesturing for the guard to wait with her things.
"Hello," she addressed the man behind the counter, who was writing something in a journal. "I'm a new student. I need to get my room."
The man looked up and gave her a thorough once-over. Not a trace of emotion showed on his face.
"Your ID and student pass, please."
Rose handed over the documents. The man studied them for a long time, too long it seemed to Rose. She was starting to get nervous when he finally nodded.
"Everything is in order. We were notified of your enrollment. Your room is ready."
He handed her a key with a metal tag.
"Room three hundred and seven. Fourth floor. Also, please familiarize yourself with the dormitory rules — they are posted on the bulletin board in the lobby."
Rose took the key and was about to leave but hesitated.
"Tell me..." she bit her lip. "Will I have a roommate?"
The man looked up at her again. A flicker of slight bewilderment passed through his gaze.
"Of course," he replied. "At Arden Academy, all students live in double rooms. That's the standard rule. Do you have any objections?"
"No, no," Rose said hastily. "It's just... I wondered if it might be possible to get a single room?"
The man raised an eyebrow.
"It is possible. For an additional fee."
Rose sighed inwardly.
Of course. It all came down to money.
And she didn't have any. Well, she did, but just enough to cover the essentials. No funds left for a single room.
"Understood," she said. "Thank you."
She stepped away from the counter, feeling slightly disappointed.
A roommate.
She would have a roommate. Some stranger guy, with whom she'd have to share a room.
This, frankly, complicated matters.
Because she would have to hide her true identity not only during the day but also at night. Changing clothes, sleeping, washing — all of this would have to be done without anyone noticing.
Rose felt the tension squeeze her temples again.
But there was no turning back.
She approached the guard, who was still waiting with her suitcase.
"I'll go up myself," she said, taking her luggage. "Thanks for your help."
The guard nodded.
"Good luck, Lord Rosenberg. And remember my words — stay away from bad company."
"Absolutely," Rose promised, though inwardly she thought she had other concerns now.
Fourth floor.
With a suitcase.
Up the stairs.
Rose, who had used servants her whole life and never carried heavy things, cursed everything under the sun as she climbed. The suitcase felt unbearable, each step sending pain through her strained arms.
At least most students were in class. The corridors were empty, and no one saw the new student panting and sweating, trying to drag his luggage to his room.
Finally, room 307.
Rose inserted the key into the lock, turned it — and the door clicked open.
She stepped inside, set the suitcase by the entrance, and looked around.
The room turned out to be small but cozy. Two beds, two desks, two wardrobes. One half of the room looked lived-in — on the bed lay a neatly made coverlet, on the desk stood books and writing materials, and on the wall hung a map of the Empire.
The second half — her half — was empty.
So, her roommate indeed existed.
Rose walked to the window. The view opened onto the inner courtyard of the academy, where students were still bustling about. Somewhere there, among that crowd, was her brother.
But searching for him right now... she had no strength.
Rose took off her shoes and stretched out luxuriously on her bed. The mattress was surprisingly soft and comfortable.
Her eyes closed by themselves.
"I'll just sleep a little," she thought. "Half an hour. Then I'll go look for Gilbert."
She closed her eyes.
And fell into a deep, heavy, dreamless sleep.