Chapter 26: Chapter:26 Grandfather.

It had already been two months since Vivian first stepped into Akron Academy.

In that short span of time, he had grown familiar with the academy’s structure and, more importantly, the way its examinations worked.

Each academic year was divided into two major tests, held six months apart. That meant his very first exam was still four months away.

Today, however, was special for an entirely different reason, his grandfather was coming to visit.

The visit had been delayed once before, postponed due to pressing matters that demanded his grandfather’s attention, but at last the day had arrived.

The appointed time was set for 11:30. Since the academy was closed for its monthly holiday, Vivian stood before the mirror, carefully tying his hair into a neat knot.

In just two months, it had grown long enough to brush against his neck, something he hadn’t quite gotten used to.

“Finished with your preparations, honey?” Charlotte’s voice drifted from the bed, where she sat watching him with a playful smile.

She had taken to calling him ’honey’—or sometimes ’Vivi’—whenever they were alone.

Ever since that day, the habit stuck. No matter how often she used those names, Vivian couldn’t bring himself to get used to them.

Worse, if he ever tried to protest, she would narrow her eyes like daggers and tease him about Marinate, leaving him completely defenseless.

Lacking the courage to argue over the nicknames, Vivian simply nodded.

“Yes, I’m ready. Shall we head out?” he asked, straightening the folds of his blue tuxedo.

Charlotte, meanwhile, was dressed in a flowing blue gown that perfectly matched his attire.

Earlier, when Vivian had asked why she chose the same color as him, her reply had struck like a knife.

’Why? Would you have preferred if Marinate matched you instead?’

The words echoed in his chest, leaving him speechless.

Her relentless taunting hadn’t ceased since that day, each jab finding its mark no matter how much he tried to brush it off.

Recalling these words was enough to refrain from such comments in the future.

“Okay, let’s go.” Charlotte nodded with a cheerful smile before stepping through the door ahead of him.

She was brimming with excitement, after all, this wasn’t just a meeting with his grandfather.

To her, it felt like their very first date. That was why she had chosen to wear a dress in the same shade of blue as his tuxedo.

She wanted passersby to turn their heads and whisper, Look at them—’what a beautiful couple.’

More than that, she wanted Vivian’s grandfather to see her and think, ’There couldn’t possibly be anyone more worthy of my grandson than her.’

Following after her, Vivian stepped out, locked the door, and trailed a few paces behind Charlotte.

Without warning, Charlotte slipped her hand into his and rested her shoulder lightly against him.

The sudden gesture sent heat rushing to Vivian’s face; he turned as red as a ripe apple, his steps growing stiff and awkward. Charlotte giggled softly at his reaction, clearly amused.

A few months ago, she might have thought such gestures unnecessary.

But now things are different. She had a rival—an enemy who dared to try and snatch away what was rightfully hers.

And so, she refused to let her guard down, not even for a moment.

After walking side by side for a while, the dorms faded into the distance and they arrived at the main road.

There, a horse-drawn cart awaited, the one they had reserved beforehand.

The two steeds harnessed to it were pure white, a detail Charlotte had insisted upon. To her, it added the perfect touch: a princess in love with her knight.

As they approached, the driver stepped down, kneeling on one knee in greeting.

“I greet the princess and Sir Vivian D. Zenithara. If you would allow—”

He extended a hand, ready to escort Charlotte into the cart. But she raised her chin and declined with a graceful shake of her head, turning instead to Vivian.

“Honey, if you would.” She reached out her hand toward him, eyes gleaming with expectation.

Vivian didn’t dare defy her. With a careful breath, he took her hand, holding it as delicately as if it were glass, and escorted her into the waiting cart.

Once they were both settled inside, the cart set off toward their destination—the Akron Restaurant, where Vivian’s grandfather awaited.

As the wheels clattered along the road, Charlotte leaned closer, slipping her hand into his before resting her head gently on his shoulder.

She didn’t move for the entire ride, perfectly content to stay pressed against him.

Vivian, on the other hand, remained frozen stiff. It wasn’t that he disliked it—far from it—but experience had already taught him one thing: if he so much as opened his mouth to complain, a sharp slap would be flying his way.

So, weighing his options, he wisely chose silence over a slap.

When the cart finally came to a halt, Vivian stepped down first.

Straightening his posture, he extended his hand with the poise of a knight offering devotion to his lady.

Charlotte accepted it without hesitation, descending with graceful steps that drew every eye.

The instant her fingers locked with his, Vivian felt the weight of countless gazes bearing down on them.

Whispers stirred in the crowd, admiration mingling with envy, and the pressure of it all pressed heavily on his shoulders.

With her arm linked firmly through his, Charlotte walked in perfect sync beside Vivian, each step measured as though they had rehearsed it countless times.

The guard stationed at the entrance didn’t even dare ask for identification.

He bowed deeply and opened the door with both hands, allowing them passage.

Inside the grand hallway of the restaurant, Vivian approached the receptionist.

“Excuse me, may I know where Vikel D. Zenithara is waiting?”

The young woman behind the desk froze for a moment, her composure faltering as her eyes fell on them.

Their striking presence, otherworldly in beauty and poise, left her flustered. She stammered, “L-let me check, sir.”

Vivian gave a polite nod and waited patiently, Charlotte still at his side. After a few moments, the receptionist managed to reply, “They are in VIP Room No. 1, on the second floor.”

“Thank you,” Vivian said warmly before leading Charlotte toward the staircase.

After a short walk through the corridors, Vivian and Charlotte finally stood before a door marked VIP Room No. 1.

Vivian took a steadying breath and raised his hand.

Knock, knock.

The sound echoed inside. A deep, familiar voice answered, “Oh, they’re here.” It was likely his grandfather’s voice.

But then, another voice followed—gentle, distinctly female.

“Grandfather, you don’t have to move. Let me open it.”

Both Vivian and Charlotte froze. ’A female voice?’ And she had addressed his grandfather so familiarly…

’Odd. Who could it be?’ Vivian wondered, frowning in confusion.

Charlotte, however, felt an unease coil in her chest. ’Could it be… had Vivian’s grandfather already chosen a potential marriage partner for him? No,’ she shook her head in mind denying the possibility, their family already knew and had given her their permission, so who could it be?

Her fears were found a moment later, when the door opened and a girl stepped out.

“You—?!” Charlotte spat, disbelief and fury flashing in her eyes.

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