Time slipped by unnoticed. By the time the group left the mansion, the sun was already dipping toward the horizon, bathing the world in a soft, golden light.
The four of them walked slowly along the quiet path back to the dormitory.
Ico, exhausted from her earlier outburst and tears, was now fast asleep on Zack's back, her arms draped loosely around his neck. Her expression was peaceful—serene even—like a sleeping angel untouched by the chaos of the world. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed, and her soft breathing tickled against his ear.
"Good grief… What a ridiculous day this turned out to be," Zack muttered, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. "Sorry you got dragged into all of this, even though it's clearly our mess."
"Don't apologize," Shanon replied softly, walking beside him. She cast him a knowing smile, calm and composed as always. "It was the Princess who made the decision to help Ico. And you… you carried it through."
Despite carrying Silva in her arms—who remained fast asleep from Clarisse's spell—Shanon's pace was graceful, her posture impeccable. There was not a hint of strain in her expression.
Just like Ico, Silva looked almost angelic now that her usually stern expression had melted away in slumber. Her silver-gold hair fluttered gently in the breeze, and her delicate body rose and fell with her quiet breaths. Her soft bosom pressed lightly against Shanon's chest, her thigh slightly exposed through the slit in her dress—barely decent, but oddly serene.
"Shanon, are you sure you're okay?" Zack asked, his voice tinged with concern. "After everything that happened, I thought Clarisse's spell would've affected you, too."
She giggled—a light, musical sound. "Mm. It seems I'm more resistant to that sort of thing than expected."
Truthfully, Shanon had been the one who took charge after Zack freed Ico. She was the one who found the girl's clothes—still scattered and in disarray. She was the one who soothed her, calmed her down, and carefully helped her get dressed. If it had been left to Zack, he might've completely lost his mind in that laboratory.
Especially with how little Ico had been wearing...
"I suppose it's just part of the job," she said with a wink. "After all… I am a maid."
"Is that all it takes?" Zack chuckled, shaking his head. "That's not normal, you know."
"Of course it's not." Her answer came with a mischievous smile, the kind that could charm even the most stoic noble. That smile had even dulled Clarisse's fury earlier—it radiated a strange, disarming warmth.
"Zack, if I may… I have a small favor to ask."
"Sure, what is it?"
"About today's events…" Her voice lowered, becoming more serious. "Could you please keep everything a secret? Especially what happened with Silva."
Zack nodded before she could finish. "Yeah, I get it. It wouldn't look good if word got out that a princess of the royal Steinert family broke into a professor's home and was rendered unconscious by Oracle magic."
A small, appreciative laugh escaped Shanon's lips. "Exactly. Silva's pride is fragile—even if she doesn't admit it."
"It's a shame we can't expose Clarisse for what she did… but at least she got what was coming to her. The look on her face when the Oracle failed? Worth it."
His smile was casual, but his heart skipped when he saw the way Shanon looked at him.
"She was stunned," she said, laughing gently. "When she realized her magic didn't work on you… you looked so strong. So… dependable."
Zack's chest tightened. It was rare for him to receive direct praise from a woman—let alone one as elegant and mysterious as Shanon.
"T-That wasn't anything special. I just couldn't stand by and do nothing while Ico was in danger."
"I know," she replied warmly. "That's what made it impressive."
Zack scratched the back of his head, trying to shake off the flutter in his chest. "Wait… were you watching the entire time?"
Instead of answering, Shanon simply offered another teasing smile. Her lips curved in amusement, and a playful gleam lit up her eyes.
Zack sighed.
Another woman full of secrets…
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.༄
The Second Day.
Zack hadn't expected this.
Even before the first period began, the classroom fell into stunned silence. Every student turned their gaze toward the entrance as the door opened, and a woman dressed entirely in pristine white stepped in with confident, deliberate grace.
Her heels clicked against the floor, each step echoing like a drumbeat in Zack's chest.
"Aaaaa!"
Zack and Silva shouted in unison, their voices filled with disbelief. Every head turned toward them in confusion.
The woman strode to the podium and smiled with an elegance that could freeze a river. Her long, flowing hair shimmered like silver threads beneath the morning light, and her curves—barely restrained by the tight fabric of her elegant white coat—were impossible to ignore.
"I am Clarisse Cornwell," she announced smoothly. "As of today, I will be taking over as your homeroom teacher. Your former teacher, Sebastian-sensei, has chosen to retire."
"What the hell…" Zack muttered under his breath.
That was a lie. Sebastian-sensei was nowhere near retirement age. This had Clarisse's manipulation written all over it.
From the Academy's official stance, it was "an honor" to welcome someone of Clarisse's caliber into the faculty. But Zack knew better. This wasn't an honor—it was a trap wrapped in silk and smugness.
"You may call me Professor Clarisse," she added, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. The motion was delicate, almost flirtatious.
Zack and Silva remained frozen, mouths half-open in disbelief.
"S-She never gives up…" Silva whispered.
With her sudden arrival and sultry presence, Clarisse instantly seized the attention of every boy in the room. Led by the ever-enthusiastic Raymond, the male half of the class erupted in cheers.
"Woooah! She's smokin' hot!"
"I love this school!"
"She can teach me anything!"
Their voices rose in a chorus of adolescent desire—except for Zack, who sat motionless, fists clenched under his desk.
Clarisse's eyes swept across the room like a predator scanning prey. And then they landed on Zack. Her cold smile widened just a fraction.
"Please take care of me," she said in a voice dripping with mock sincerity.