Inside the classroom, dozens of tables had been shoved together into something that almost resembled a circle. Students sat behind them.
The strange part was that, instead of a room full of almost–high schoolers being loud and restless, everyone was whispering—stealing odd, hostile, curious, or admiring glances at one particular student sitting near the "circle's" corner.
That student was Leo. He had one elbow on the table, his cheek propped on his fist, eyes fixed on the door like he couldn't wait to bolt.
"Why the heck is he here?"
"I don't know. Probably because, like everyone else, he got invited today by the student council."
"Yeah, but it's not like he's the type to ever listen, right?"
"I don't understand why everyone's making such a fuss about him… It's not like he's really all that—"
"You're a first-year, right?"
"Yeah. He totally is. Didn't you hear the great evil stories about the 'evil prince'?"
