As the echoes of Areion's success faded, the instructors moved on to the next name.
The young male instructor glanced at the parchment before reading aloud in a firm voice.
"Romona humer."
A moment of silence followed.
Romona, still seated beside Areion, blinked.
"…Huh?"
The name had been called again, and murmurs began spreading among the examinees.
She turned to Areion, bewildered.
"They must have made a mistake…" she whispered.
One of the instructors cleared his throat, looking directly at her.
"Romona humer, step forward."
She hesitated before quickly standing and giving a polite bow.
"Apologies, but I believe there's been a misunderstanding. I am not a student; I am merely a maid."
Some students chuckled under their breath at her words, but the instructors remained unfazed.
Lady Belladonna, who had been watching Romona closely, rested her chin against her palm. "We are well aware of who you are, Ms. Romona humer."
Romona stiffened at the way her full name was said.
Lady Belladonna's silver-blue eyes narrowed slightly, her voice calm yet authoritative.
"Regardless of your status, all individuals who enter these halls must be evaluated. You are no exception."
Areion sat back in his seat, watching with quiet amusement.
Romona, on the other hand, was less than pleased.
She crossed her arms, her voice carrying a tinge of irritation.
"I am not a student, and I am already nineteen. That's the same age as the final-year students here. Surely, there's no need—"
Before she could finish, the male instructor—seemingly unfazed by her protest—spoke firmly.
"All who pass through these gates are examined. Refusing would mean violating academy protocol."
Romona clenched her jaw.
There was no getting out of this.
With a sharp sigh, she stepped forward, feeling all eyes in the hall fix upon her. She was currently wearing her maid uniform.
She moved to stand before the instructors, straightening her back.
The questions came quickly.
Unlike Areion's rigorous questioning, hers were standard. History, magic theory, applications of Shaktih, the balance of affinities—nothing unusual.
She answered swiftly and efficiently, her tone calm but slightly impatient.
The instructors exchanged brief nods before signaling her to proceed to the crystal.
Romona stepped forward, glancing at the sphere with uncertainty before placing her hands upon it.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then, suddenly—
A soft golden light emerged from the crystal's core, spreading gently across its surface. It was warm, soothing.
But that wasn't all.
Within the golden radiance, streaks of vivid crimson crackled like dancing flames.
The light swirled, forming two distinct yet coexisting energies.
Lady Belladonna's lips parted slightly as glowing arcane runes manifested above Romona's head.
Her voice rang clearly through the hall.
"Primary Affinity: Blessing. Secondary Affinity: Fire."
A hushed murmur swept through the crowd.
Blessing magic was exceedingly rare. A power that was most commonly found in priests and those touched by celestial energy.
Yet, unlike traditional holy magic, Romona's affinity was not solely divine.
The presence of fire as her secondary affinity added an aggressive, untamed nature to her magic—a contrast that should not have been possible.
Some instructors leaned in, intrigued. Others whispered among themselves.
Lady Belladonna, however, simply watched. Waiting.
The Final Test
"Romona humer."
Romona turned her gaze toward Lady Belladonna, who regarded her with measured curiosity.
"Demonstrate your magic."
Romona tensed slightly.
She exhaled slowly before closing her eyes, joining both palms against eachother feeling the shaktih within her veins begin to stir.
Then—it happened.
Her skin began to shift, her complexion lightening to an unnatural porcelain white.
The change was subtle yet undeniable.
Then, just behind her ears becames more like feathers.
Soft, delicate white feathers.
They unfurled slightly, trembling as if caught in an invisible breeze.
As she open her eyes pure white like her skin and tear dropping from it similar to her skin shinning in light.
A few students gasped.
A half-Seraph.
Even among nobles and warriors, individuals with celestial blood were almost unheard of.
Yet, even as her transformation began, it was clear something was wrong.
Her shaktih wavered, and the feathers that had started to form halted mid-way.
She winced, clutching her chest.
Her aura, which had begun to swell with an overwhelming radiance, remained incomplete.
It was less dense than a full-blooded Seraph's, but—
It was comforting.
The sensation of warmth, reassurance, and unwavering steadiness spread across the hall.
Unlike Areion's presence—hers was different.
It was the kind of presence that soothed, that mended, that steadied faltering hearts.
After a moment, her transformation stopped altogether.
She slowly opened her eyes, frustration flickering beneath their amber depths.
She had failed to complete it.
Silence reigned in the hall before Lady Belladonna finally spoke.
"Not yet fully awakened."
Romona stiffened slightly.
The words were not an insult—they were an observation.
The instructors whispered amongst themselves longer then usual before turning toward the male examiner.
After a long moment, he straightened his parchment, cleared his throat, and spoke.
"Romona humer…"
The hall fell deathly silent.
"…Pass."
A single breath escaped Romona's lips—not of relief, but of silent acceptance.
As she turned away from the instructors, she avoided Areion's gaze.
She didn't know what he was thinking, and for the first time, she wasn't sure she wanted to.
Areion's thoughts churned in his mind like an untamed storm.
[Now I understand why you chose her, Maa.]
He had always known his mother did not make decisions lightly. If she had chosen Romona to serve him, there was always a reason.
But this?
A half-Seraph. A being so rare that most lived their entire lives without meeting one.
As Romona walked back, he noticed the subtle hesitation in her steps. The tension in her shoulders.
She wasn't meeting his gaze.
For someone who always teased and challenged him, it was oddly uncharacteristic.
Realizing she might think he was unsettled by her revelation, he quickly raised a hand and waved at her.
An attempt to act normal.
Romona blinked, hesitated for a moment, then sighed and made her way to the empty seat beside him.
She sat down stiffly, her hands clasped together as if trying to shrink into herself.
Areion turned toward her, his expression unreadable.
A beat of silence passed between them before he finally spoke.
"You're half-Seraph… you didn't tell me."
His voice wasn't accusing. Just curious.
Romona's fingers tightened slightly against her lap.
"…I didn't think it mattered."
Areion raised an eyebrow. "It didn't matter?"
She sighed.
"I was raised as a human. I never saw a need to bring it up. Besides…" she exhaled, "it's not like I can use my Seraph heritage properly."
Areion tilted his head slightly.
"You mean because your transformation was incomplete?"
She nodded. "That was supposed to be my full form. I can't go beyond that."
Her tone was flat, but Areion could see the flicker of frustration in her eyes.
He had seen Romona exhausted before.
Now he understood why.
She wasn't just a skilled maid or a competent fighter—she had been fighting against her own limits her entire life.
At first it's always comes in his mind, romona is not a great of a maid but still Vivienne choosed her.
For a moment, Areion stayed silent, studying her. Then, with an unreadable expression, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
"I see."
Romona turned to him, expecting some kind of teasing remark. Maybe even a dramatic reaction. But Areion's eyes held something else.
Something serious.
Something calculating.
Then, just as quickly, he smirked.
"Well, at least now I understand why you were so annoyingly persistent when dragging me out of bed."
Romona blinked before groaning.
"And there it is. I knew you couldn't stay serious for long."
Areion chuckled. "What, you want me to bow in awe? Should I start calling you Lady Seraph now?"
She rolled her eyes but finally relaxed slightly.
"No, your highness. But maybe some extra respect wouldn't hurt."
Areion gave her a mock bow. "O great half-Seraph Romona, I humbly request your Assistance."
She swatted at him, but a small smile tugged at her lips.
For a moment, the weight of the examination, the revelation of her heritage, and the tension she had been holding onto eased. But Areion's mind never stopped turning.
A half-Seraph. A rare affinity for Blessing magic. And his mother had specifically chosen her to be by his side.
This was not a coincidence.
Before ending her audience, she is called to the front Lady Belladonna waves at a instructor lady with rectangular specs who manifests a uniform for her in white and red according to her affinity.