The two boys stepped out of the room some time later, clad in their new Arcadia uniforms. Crisp white shirts and dark plaid trousers lent them a refined air, while long black mage robes, lined with flashes of red, draped elegantly over their shoulders.
From what Michael knew of Arcadia's ranking conventions, that splash of red marked them as first-years.
That's when he noticed her.
Melody sat poised on one of the armchairs, one leg casually crossed over the other. The plaid skirt of her uniform revealed a stretch of pale, flawless skin, and her arms were folded beneath her chest in a stance that radiated impatience.
"Holy crap… she's beautiful," Rudy muttered under his breath.
Michael was equally caught off guard.
He had seen Melody in every kind of noble attire over the past three years—ornate ball gowns, airy summer dresses—but something about the Arcadia uniform made his chest tighten. She no longer looked like a porcelain doll; she looked like a young woman.
