Chapter 3: A Stabbing Pain
I sighed bitterly, squeezing my fist tightly until it turned as pale as snow. My thoughts swirled as I contemplated whether or not it was a good idea to fire back some snarky response or pretend as though I didn't give a damn. My hand's iron grip gradually loosened, and I threw out an exhausted sigh instead.
No, not now, I can't be bothered to deal with him. I don't need to be late just because one person said something I didn't like. If I did that every single time it happened, I would never accomplish anything in my life.
I rolled my eyes and turned my heel the other way. He squared his shoulders and carefully watched me as I continued on.
"Hey, are you scared? Aren't you going to fight back, little bell?" he challenged me with a lopsided smirk.
Scared? Are you kidding me?
I gritted my teeth, eager to take a swing at him whenever my mindset decided to crumble.
There's no point in trying to defend myself⎯or Elisabeth in the least. I'll just have to prove it in my abilities.
When I reached my destination, I couldn't ignore how ginormous the door to the class was! It was a polished wooden door with shiny golden handles. I placed my hand on the smooth loop of the handle and cracked the door open partly. A breeze of perfume tickled my nose as I discreetly peeked in. I looked up to double-check and confirmed that it was definitely the correct math class. I squeezed the handle.
"Here we go," I mumbled, trying to instill some confidence within myself.
"Can you open the door now?" a low voice abruptly questioned me.
"Oh! Sorry," I apologized hastily on instinct.
I turned back and saw a familiar set of vibrant sapphire eyes peering back at me. He raised his eyebrow at my instinctive motion. Then, he stroked back a tuft of his hazelnut hair. I pushed the door open and proceeded through first. He came in, following me. Some students were already here, and they immediately turned to the spectacle of both of us entering. However, they kept their heads turned away from me and focused on him. I sighed again softly.
Prince Caydel! I didn't think that we'd be in the same class. Isn't that weird? If Elisabeth is as stupid as everyone says, why is she taking the same classes as the heir to Whitensen's throne?
"Ah, your highness," a lovely voice resounded from beside me. "Good morning."
The young lady curtsied towards Caydel. Unlike his unenthusiastic reaction with me, the prince gave her a bright warm smile.
"Good morning, Lady Lancaster," he responded with an amused expression.
Wow, I see how it is. Elisabeth is beautiful too, you know?
Once she arose, her golden locks swiveled to the side and her amethyst eyes fluttered to momentarily acknowledge my presence. The gentleness in her expression quickly hardened into hostility. The color in her pupils darkened so drastically that I could have sworn it changed into another shade.
Why is Viktoria looking at me like that?
All of a sudden, a wave of pain stabbed into my heart, squeezing as if someone had ahold of it. My throat burned as I felt my eyes pool into tears. As if she also felt the same sensation, she swiftly diverted her gaze, and the pain ceased. I watched as she followed the prince up the stairway to a seat, every step echoing in my mind as my surroundings blurred.
What the...what the hell was that?
Unknowingly, I was clutching my chest and shivering. I shook my head gently before turning to find a vacant seat. Although I was still shaken up by the sudden encounter, I made myself comfortable.
This room is considerably spacious, which wasn't a shock, seeing as how glamorous this academy is. A huge blackboard was adorned at the front with a lectern before it. Observing further, the walls are decorated with wine red, and the convex ceiling was polished golden. There are a couple of rows of cushioned seats and many mathematical decors and tools. One of them had five rounded balls strung up from the top of two squared bent strips of metal.
Wow...I didn't expect to see Newton's cradle here. The device was invented in 1967, more than half a century after the Victorian era! Then again, no one I've met had a British accent. Could it be possible that this world is a mix of different historical periods?
With the entrance of my professor, quiet rippled around everyone. At last, the class commenced with the professor's introduction.
"I am Professor Finnigan, your mathematics teacher for the year," a tall man with wavy black hair and lengthy brown attire spoke.
He looks similar to my "mother." The hair and the face really resemble her. Strange. Maybe I'm just thinking silly things…
The professor went down the list of students for attendance without even calling out names. No teacher was yelling for missing students and no students responding to correct mispronunciations.
Does that mean he already recognizes everyone's faces? That's remarkably fast. Perhaps, it's because everyone that attends this academy is already quite well-known outside of these walls. I know Elisabeth has a reputation, but it's not a very good one.
The lesson resumed with multiple sneers aimed at me. They continued to gossip loud enough for me to be able to listen. The majority of their conversation consisted of comparing Viktoria with Elisabeth.
How rude. Focus on learning, not burning holes into people's heads. Ah, well it doesn't really matter much since this lesson is pretty mild. I just need to concentrate and use the best of my capabilities. It's just like how I've always done.
"Miss Carabell, what is the answer to this equation?" Professor Finnigan suddenly asked me.
My fountain pen froze in place, blotting a circle of ink that spread as I rose my head up to meet the professor's chocolate eyes. The students giggled at the directed question. I couldn't understand why he decided to pick me of all people to answer the equation.
Certainly, he knew as well as anyone else that Elisabeth was a delinquent, a lady who couldn't care less about education. Everyone else seemed to think that, so why is he asking me this question?
I tried analyzing his expression, but he kept such a good poker face that I simply gave up. I glanced down at my paper for a quick reference, and then back up to the professor.
"26,795.854," I answered slowly, making sure to articulate the numbers so that it seemed I was nervous.
If I speak slowly, he won't destroy me when he explains why it's wrong.
Then again, I was pretty confident I had the right answer. I only wanted to be humble.
"Correct," Professor Finnigan declared.
Critical hit!
The class was shaken by my answer. Everyone glanced at each other to unearth some valid explanation as to how I accomplished such a feat. Then, a crude suggestion caught my attention.
"Maybe it's because they're related."
My lips parted mostly in shock and partly in finding something to retort against such a false accusation. Then, realization slapped me across the face, just like how Elisabeth's father did.
Wait a moment, we're related? Is that why he looked so much like Elisabeth's mother? Then, could it be possible that the students aren't wrong?
I slowly clenched my teeth. My heart dropped a little. My mind churned in frustration.
I don't think I'll ever become accustomed to being criticized for my hard work. These students would say anything to hurt Elisabeth, wouldn't they? It would be different on Earth. No one would say a word.
"Silence! If you question my teachings, you may leave the class and receive an F for the semester," the professor scolded us.
Interestingly, the academy also uses an A to F grading system.
When I glanced to my side, I noticed how Prince Caydel shot me a perplexed look. Our eyes met sharply, and I couldn't help but feel highly unpleasantly bothered by his presence.
What the…? I didn't even notice he was sitting a few seats to my right. Why is he looking at me? Well, besides him, everyone else has finally stopped side-eyeing me. Now I can actually focus.
Unexpectedly, the silence struck harshly, and no one uttered a word, not until she spoke.
"Since everyone seems to doubt your credibility, Lady Carabell, why don't you come and explain the problem to the rest of the students?" Viktoria asked me with one of her lovely smiles.
The more I look at her, the more it seems like she's sneering at me.
The professor paused to think, and then said, "Yes, why don't you come and explain this problem for the rest of the students, Miss Carabell?"
A ripple of murmurs shook through each section of the classroom. "Viktoria has never challenged Elisabeth like this..." Their gazes laid expectantly on me.
Sadly, the only terrible grades I ever earned in school were all participation assessments. If I don't want to repeat history, I better pull myself together. Why, oh why, do teachers want us to participate so much?
As you can see, there was only one option I could choose.
"Sure," I agreed⎯to everyone's great surprise.
I slithered out my seat and stepped down the low oak stairs with a clack of my evergreen heel. The bold sound resonated throughout the large dome-like room. I approached the professor with a blank expression, and I gently took a piece of broken chalk from the dusty ledge. I began to write with ease as my audience held their breath. Only my loud and clear voice could be heard, paired with the light tapping of the chalk. As soon as I placed the chalk down, Professor Finnigan clapped his hands together and nodded. My classmates were stuck in shock, turning their heads to one another in astonishment.
"Impossible…"
"My answer is wrong, and yet she gets it right?"
"This is absurd!"
The nobles murmured in little groups, trying to solve this new problem that has suddenly been brought to their attention⎯me.
"Well done. You may return to your seat, Miss," he told me.
"Thank you," I responded with a little smile, brushing the remnants of the chalk off my hands.
Even though my performance was without a single fault, it was these two words that spooked both my professor and my fellow students. A chilly gust of wind must have wandered in the room because everyone had shivers running down their spines. No one could challenge my eyes with a single glance, in fear of inciting another dreadful "thank you" from the lips of the most hated noble lady in the entire academy. By the time I reached my seat, I could feel the drastic change in attitude. Viktoria turned her head away and Caydel seemed disturbed by something.
At my end of the row, I twiddled with my fancy fountain pen and scribbled multiple notes onto my paper as Professor Finnigan resumed his lecture.
I know it's weird, but I really like looking at my own handwriting. It's therapeutic somehow. Especially since the flow of letters from the tip of the pen is actually entertaining to watch.
The loops curled around as I wrote my name at the top of the parchment in cursive, trying to match the writing of those calligraphy artists I used to like back on Earth.
I miss my ballpoint gel pens though...
Little doodles traveled around my notes without any actual purpose but to soothe my mind. The bell rang with a ding, dong, and a⎯
"Damn! Do I have to deal with this every single class?" I mumbled to myself in a low whisper.
Ladies and gentlemen of the upper class scuffled about to scoop their belongings and prepared to rush away to another lesson⎯where they would continue their newfound juicy gossip.
"That's it for today. Everyone is dismissed," Professor Finnigan announced with a flourish of his hand.
There was a brief shuffling of feet. Students gradually left their seats and approached the door in little groups. I stood up and hurriedly gathered all my stuff in one swipe.
Pen, notes, more work…
Slowly and stealthily, another surprise snuck up behind me. His figure was tall, and his shadow loomed over me. Without waiting for me to turn around, he blurted out something I never thought I would hear from another person's mouth.
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