Vivian's Fear

As the Second-year Representative and the Student Council President known for her rigorous self-discipline, Vivian's attitude toward her studies had always been beyond reproach.

Usually, during every theory class, her leather notebook—its cover embossed with a frost-crystal pattern—would be filled with dense notes on every key point the professor explained, along with her own thoughts and annotations. Filling several pages in a single morning was the norm for her.

But today, the snow-white pages of the notebook spread before her were devoid of a single word, showing nothing but the texture of the paper itself.

Her slender fingers mindlessly toyed with her pen. Her ice-blue eyes had lost the sharp, focused light they usually held during lectures, staring at the blank space with a slight lack of focus.

The professor's booming voice from the lectern, the shifting runic diagrams on the magic screen, the rustling of her classmates' pens across paper...

All of it seemed to reach her ears from behind a thick pane of glass, muffled and distant, failing to leave any clear mark on her consciousness.

Vivian lowered her head slightly, her ice-blue hair sliding forward to brush against her somewhat pale cheeks.

She questioned herself silently, feeling a rare sense of vacancy and confusion.

Ever since she had heard that news yesterday evening, a persistent irritability and restlessness had taken hold of her.

Greg Sass.

That name, along with everything associated with it, was like a tangled mess of thread clogging her chest, making it impossible to breathe smoothly and even harder to focus on anything she was supposed to do.

The coolness and focus she took such pride in seemed to have become incredibly fragile in the face of her questions about that man.

Right now, she simply wanted to see Greg and get an answer from his own mouth, but...

If it were only that simple, she wouldn't be as hesitant as she was now.

With her status and personality, she could easily have gone straight to him and asked clearly and openly.

She had never been an indecisive person.

And yet, beneath the urgency of wanting an answer, there lurked a sliver of fear that even she was unwilling to examine too closely.

Because she was afraid.

She was afraid that the answer she would hear from Greg was this: the reason he had hidden his strength all along, willingly bearing the reputation of a waste, enduring ostracization within his family, and ultimately being stripped of his inheritance and cast out... was all so he could smoothly break off the engagement with her and completely sever any possibility of reconciliation.

Vivian had never once regretted her firm decision to propose the dissolution of the engagement.

To her, it had been a rational choice made out of responsibility to both parties, the optimal solution based on all the information and judgment available at the time.

She firmly believed that.

However, not regretting the decision didn't mean she wasn't afraid of the truth that might be hidden behind it.

She was afraid that the boy for whom she might have felt a faint spark of affection on a distant afternoon had chosen such a resolute, self-exiling path because he detested her and resisted the fate that bound them together.

That he had endured so much humiliation and cold treatment until he was completely abandoned by his family, only revealing his brilliance after the bond between them had been thoroughly severed by reality and law...

The thought was like a cold venomous snake, quietly slithering into her heart and bringing a sharp, lingering sting.

As the First Princess of the kingdom, Vivian's pride was bone-deep.

She feared this answer not because it would cause her to lose face.

What she truly found unacceptable was the possibility that, because of her, a boy who should have shone brilliantly had been forced to remain in the shadows, voluntarily dimming his light and nearly being buried forever.

The proud Vivian Kahn could accept others hating or fearing her because of her personality.

But she could never tolerate her presence being the thing that stifled the brilliance and potential another soul was meant to possess.

Though there was already a brilliant light by her side that often left her feeling breathless with pressure...

It was precisely because of that—because she had been able to observe such brilliance up close—that she knew just how beautiful and rare such a light truly was!

And this complex emotion had given birth to a fear deep within her that she could hardly face.

This fear kept her swinging back and forth between the impulse to 'go and ask' and the retreat of 'fearing the answer,' leaving her unable to sit still.

The entire morning's classes were wasted in this silent internal struggle.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

The heavy dismissal bell rang out like a final judgment.

Vivian was startled out of her chaotic thoughts as if by an electric shock.

Looking up, a flash of struggle crossed her ice-blue eyes, but her body reacted faster than her mind.

She stood up, her movements still carrying her habitual grace, but her slightly quickened heartbeat and the way her fingers instinctively tightened and then relaxed betrayed her lack of inner peace.

She knew Greg's schedule.

No, to be precise, she had accidentally caught a glimpse of his elective course arrangements while flipping through a certain document, and then... she had accidentally memorized them.

Even though they were in the same year and both in Class A, many of their specialized electives and general education classes did not overlap.

Her feet, as if pulled by invisible threads, stepped out of her classroom uncontrollably and walked toward the direction indicated in her mind.

Students passing by in the corridor bowed respectfully to her. She merely nodded mechanically, her frozen expression hiding the turbulence beneath.

Eventually, she stopped before an ordinary classroom door.

From inside came sounds far more boisterous and noisy than when her own class was dismissed.

The crisp laughter of girls, the indignant discussions of boys, and the sounds of chairs moving and paper rustling mixed together, sounding almost chaotic.

Vivian's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

As the Student Council President, maintaining order in the academy was her instinct.

She was on the verge of habitually pushing the door open, but the moment her fingers were about to touch the handle, she paused.

She told herself, closing her eyes tightly and forcing down the impulse born of duty.

Today, she was just Vivian Kahn, an ordinary woman seeking an answer.

Whew...

She took a nearly inaudible breath and slowly let it out.

Then, she gently pushed open the door.

The hinges turned with a faint creak.

The scene inside the classroom, accompanied by a clearer wave of sound, rushed toward her.

And then, she saw it.

She saw the familiar figure—Greg Sass—closely surrounded by a dozen or so radiantly dressed girls like stars surrounding the moon.

She saw the blatant passion and admiration on those girls' faces, and those flirtatious little gestures as they used their brightly polished fingernails to scratch his palm while stuffing invitations into his hands.

She even keenly caught one girl in the crowd, wearing a mischievous, successful smile, lightly slapping Greg on the rear before quickly retracting her hand and vanishing back into the group.