Chapter 104: Three Weeks (2)

Three uneventful weeks passed, much to Michael’s relief. Neither Braydon nor Troy caused trouble during that time. Aside from the occasional nasty glare across the classroom, there were no confrontations—not even verbal ones.

The academy, however, remained under lockdown. Michael and Melody were now making their way up the winding staircase toward the student council room for their next scheduled meeting.

This would be the first official one in weeks. Magnus had postponed the previous sessions while they waited for news of the royal investigation, which, as far as anyone knew, was still ongoing. Considering the gravity of the incident, everything else seemed inconsequential by comparison.

“Do you think they’ve finished the investigation?” Michael asked as they climbed, a faint thread of hope tugging at his chest.

“I’d say so,” Melody replied after a moment, her sapphire eyes glancing at him briefly before shifting away. “But I wouldn’t get your hopes up…” Her tone carried a soft gloom that made Michael temper his own expectations.

He nodded slowly. She was probably right. Being from a branch of the royal family herself, Melody likely knew far more about the inner workings of the court than he ever could.

As they ascended, Michael stole a glance at her, noting the subtle change in her demeanor. Ever since he revealed he was from Velmara, she had been noticeably less… abrasive.

Sensing his gaze, Melody turned her head, one delicate brow raised.

“What?” she asked, her tone casual and unpolished, far from her usual refined speech.

“Nothing,” Michael said, fighting the smirk threatening to form. “I just think it’s good you’re not out of breath yet.”

A sharp jab landed against his arm. He winced, a quick burst of pain flashing through him.

“That’s the Melody I remember,” he said, chuckling despite himself. Sometimes, it was more comfortable when things were like this—simple, familiar.

“Huh? What are you talking about!?” she shot back, cheeks reddening with what could have been anger… or embarrassment.

The tension eased between them as they continued their climb, the earlier gloom lifting slightly.

When they reached the fifth floor, Michael’s steps slowed, his gaze narrowing at the familiar sight ahead: rows of photo frames lining the corridor, each containing the wills and portraits of the academy’s former headmasters.

He lowered his head and quickened his pace, intent on passing by without incident.

“Michael, my boy! Have you finally come to take me as your master?~”

The deep, resonant, yet oddly jovial voice came from nearby, and Michael immediately recognized it. Gerald Arcadius—the fifty-first headmaster of Arcadia Academy. The same persistent portrait who’d tried to recruit him the last time he was here.

Michael didn’t so much as flinch in acknowledgment. He kept walking, his strides brisk and deliberate.

“W-wait! The master-disciple ceremony is quite simple! It’ll only take a few moments!” Gerald called, his voice rising with urgency.

Michael’s composure cracked. Dropping all pretenses, he broke into a jog, practically sprinting down the hallway in his desperation to escape.

Behind him, Melody’s startled footsteps faltered as she struggled to keep up.

“Hahaha! Even that kid’s sick of your nonsense, old man!” A high-pitched voice jeered from the opposite wall.

“Shut up, Severus, you miserable bastard! Go kick some rocks!” Gerald roared back, the two portraits launching into a familiar bickering match.

Their argument escalated quickly, but Michael wasn’t sticking around to listen. He reached the door at the end of the hall, threw it open, and slipped inside before slamming it shut behind him.

The muffled shouting faded into silence, leaving only the steady hum of chatter from within the room.

Michael exhaled a long breath of relief and finally looked up. Almost everyone was already there, seated and waiting.

Almost everyone—except Magnus.

“Good morning, Michael,” Rose greeted warmly, flashing him a pleasant smile. “Did you come here by yourself?”

“Ah…”

Michael froze for half a heartbeat before it hit him—he had completely ditched Melody.

The realization sent a ripple of unease through him. Considering the rumors surrounding their so-called engagement, walking in alone would look… suspicious. And judging by the curious glances from the other student representatives, the thought had already crossed their minds.

Without a word, he cracked the door open and peeked outside—only to find Melody standing there, arms crossed, her expression sharp enough to cut stone.

“T-the coast is clear,” he whispered hastily, gesturing for her to come in. “Quick, get inside.” He tried to sound confident, as if this had been his intention all along.

Judging by the tight set of her jaw, she wasn’t buying it.

“How noble of you…” Melody muttered as she stepped inside, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Michael could practically feel the weight of the silent stares in the room—the other representatives exchanging questioning looks, subtle curiosity dancing in their expressions.

He cleared his throat and diverted the attention immediately.

“Where’s Magnus?” he asked as casually as he could, moving toward one of the open seats.

Without missing a beat, he pulled a chair out and offered it to Melody—a small gesture aimed at mending both her temper and the public perception.

“He should be here shortly,” Michelle replied, her gaze lingering on Michael longer than necessary. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle faintly with interest, though she didn’t voice whatever thought she was holding back.

Once everyone was seated, an uneasy silence settled over the room. The atmosphere carried a quiet tension as they waited for the arrival of the prince—not as a royal, officially, but as the most senior member of the student council.

Ren, unable to handle the silence any longer, leaned back in his chair until it creaked beneath him. His fiery red hair swayed slightly as he rocked.

“Does anyone actually have any hope for this royal investigation?” he asked bluntly.

Rose’s head snapped toward him, her sharp glare practically daring him to continue.

“What?” Ren raised his hands defensively, his tone laced with mock innocence. “I’m just saying—we need to be realistic, right?”

“They’ll definitely find something,” Blake interjected calmly, adjusting his glasses as a sliver of sunlight caught the edge of the lenses. “But how much of it they’ll actually release to the public… is another matter entirely.”

His words skirted dangerously close to what was acceptable under the monarchy, but no one challenged him. Everyone in the room knew he was right.

People in power always controlled the narrative.

And the royal family was no exception.

Silence reclaimed the council chamber after that, heavier than before. The quiet stretched, broken only by the faint shuffling of papers and the ticking of a distant clock.

Five long minutes passed before the door handle finally turned.

The door swung open, and Magnus stepped inside.

His usual composed demeanor was cracked at the edges; dark circles hung under his eyes, and fatigue weighed on his shoulders. He scanned the room briefly before closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“I have the results of the investigation,” he announced, his voice steady despite the exhaustion etched into his features.

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