"Teacher Mevis, I... I'd like to invite you to dinner!" a young male teacher stammered, his face flushed as he held out a slightly wilted rose.
"Hmm, alright." Mevis's reply was neutral, giving nothing away.
The man's eyes lit up with stunned hope. "Really?! I heard you never have dinner with any of the male teachers, but you're actually agreeing to go with me?"
"Of course." Mevis's tone was flat. "Bring my student along—we'll have dinner together as three."
The man's face fell instantly. "...N-never mind."
He sighed, and the rose he held seemed to droop along with his spirit as he turned and walked away, utterly dejected.
Noah, who had been standing nearby observing the entire exchange, maintained her expressionless demeanor but couldn't hide the faint irritation in her tone.
"Teacher Mevis, this is the thirteenth time this semester you've used me as a shield."
"Hmm, that sounds about right." Mevis didn't deny it.
"What do you mean 'about right'?" Noah pressed, one silver eyebrow raised.
"There are only about fifteen male teachers in the Youth Dragon Division. You've helped me reject thirteen of them—only two and a half remain. Keep up the good work."
"That's a lot more than just a 'few'!" Noah retorted, though there was no real heat in her words.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on Mevis's lips, her dimples softening her usually sharp, cold features.
It was a rare expression, one she seemed to reserve for moments when she spoke to Noah.
Reaching out, Mevis gently ruffled Noah's silver hair. "Are you spending tonight with your sisters?"
"It's Friday. They've already gone home to the Sanctuary."
"So, you'll stay back and train again?" Mevis asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes."
A light evening breeze swept across the sports field, where a few dedicated students and teachers were still playing soccer as part of the academy's extracurricular activities. Neither Noah nor Mevis had ever shown much interest in such team sports.
After a brief, comfortable silence, Mevis spoke again.
"Before your extra training, have dinner with me."
"Teacher, could you try inviting someone with a little more warmth in your tone?" Noah suggested dryly.
"And you could be a little less cold when offering feedback, Noah," Mevis countered without missing a beat.
The two exchanged a long glance before breaking into a shared, quiet laugh.
Turning toward the main cafeteria, they walked side by side. Noah, usually the picture of composure, couldn't completely hide her flicker of excitement—her silver tail twitched slightly behind her, betraying her mood. A dragon's tail often moved involuntarily when they were happy or anticipating something pleasant.
"Why are you inviting me to dinner tonight, Teacher?" Noah asked, curiosity creeping into her normally level voice.
In her memory, Mevis had never dined alone with anyone. If she wasn't with her colleague Helena, it was during large, impersonal group gatherings.
Tonight, it was just the two of them, and though Noah felt genuinely flattered, she couldn't help but feel a bit nervous, too.
The meal they selected was simple yet carefully balanced—rich in protein, fiber, and essential nutrients designed to support the rigorous physical and magical demands of student and teacher life alike.
Seated across from one another at a small table, Noah asked again, "Was there a specific reason for this, or...?"
"Not really," Mevis replied, cutting a piece of grilled fish with precision. "I just felt like it, so I invited you."
"So, adults can just do whatever they feel like?" Noah mused aloud.
Noah, who had grown significantly more mature compared to her younger years, no longer used "adults" as an excuse for everything. She strove to act responsibly, understanding her limitations and fulfilling her duties with precision and care.
Becoming an adult was no longer something Noah obsessed over; she was focused on becoming stronger.
"It's not that simple, Noah," Mevis said quietly, her gaze dropping to the clear soup in front of her. The faint reflection of her own face rippled on the surface. "It's just... no one tells me what to do anymore."
"What did you say, Teacher?" Noah asked, not quite catching her soft-spoken words.
"Nothing important. Let's eat."
"Alright."
The two ate in comfortable silence. Noah's upbringing as a Silver Dragon Princess ensured her table manners were impeccable—every movement was graceful, quiet, and deliberate. Mevis, too, ate with a natural precision and elegance, her entire demeanor hinting at a strict and disciplined upbringing.
Watching her teacher so closely for the first time in this setting, Noah's gaze fell on a small, familiar detail: the little bear patch sewn onto the sleeve of Mevis's jacket.
After a moment of hesitation, she ventured a question.
"Teacher?"
"Hmm?"
"The bear patch on your jacket—it's cute. Did you sew it yourself?"
Noah had long been curious about why her cold and collected teacher had such a contrastingly adorable patch on her otherwise minimalist clothing. As the "aloof Silver Dragon Princess," she had always refrained from asking, but tonight, the opportunity felt right.
"Oh, this..." Mevis glanced down at the patch, her expression unreadable for a moment. "It was sewn by a family member. I'm not very good at sewing myself."
"A family member..."
Noah blinked her large, bright silver eyes.
"I've never heard you mention your family before."
Pausing briefly, she added carefully, "I don't even know which dragon tribe you're from."
Noah realized that despite spending so much time together in training, she knew remarkably little about Mevis's background. While the academy ensured all teachers were rigorously vetted for security, Noah's natural curiosity about her enigmatic teacher had grown over time.
"My tribe..." Mevis offered a faint, wistful smile before continuing. "It was destroyed a long time ago. As for my family... they're in a far, faraway place now."
"Oh." Noah's face fell slightly. "I'm so sorry, Teacher. I didn't know—"
"It's fine. It all happened long ago." Mevis's rare, warm smile returned, making Noah feel slightly more at ease.
But in Noah's understanding, the phrase "a faraway place" when spoken in that tone often meant...
"Teacher, are they... no longer in this world?"
It made a tragic sort of sense to her now—why someone as stoic and self-reliant as Mevis would carry such a personal, seemingly out-of-place memento. It was a tangible way to keep the memory of her family close to her heart.
After this heavier exchange, the two fell into a more thoughtful silence. Noah occasionally snuck glances at Mevis, her gaze repeatedly drifting back to the small bear patch.
For some reason, it looked oddly familiar.
Noah tilted her head in thought, mentally scanning her memories, but dismissed the feeling after failing to place where she might have seen it before.
As they continued their meal, Noah suddenly felt a sharp twinge in her lower stomach.
"Teacher, my stomach hurts a little. I'm going to the bathroom."
"Go ahead." Mevis's reply was as calm as ever.
Noah hopped off her chair and hurried out of the cafeteria. Only when she was completely out of sight did Mevis allow her focus to shift.
She reached into a small, hidden pocket inside her jacket and retrieved a tiny packet of light blue powder.
"This should be enough," she murmured to herself, her voice barely a whisper as she quickly and deftly sprinkled the entire contents into Noah's half-finished bowl of soup.
The powder dissolved instantly upon contact—completely colorless, odorless, and tasteless.
After ensuring the empty packet was safely disposed of, Mevis sat back in her chair, her posture returning to its usual calm composure.
A few minutes later, Noah returned.
"I'm back, Teacher."
"Feeling better?" Mevis asked, her tone perfectly normal.
"Yes, just a little cramp, nothing serious."
"Good. You should drink the rest of your soup—it's quite nutritious and will help." Mevis gestured lightly toward the bowl.
"Alright."
Trusting her teacher completely, Noah picked up her spoon and finished the soup, unaware of Mevis's intensely watchful gaze. Mevis's dark eyes stayed fixed on Noah's throat, tracking the movement of the swallow, and only relaxed once the last of the liquid was gone.
A faint, enigmatic, and unreadable smile flickered across her face before vanishing as quickly as it appeared.