The sun warmed the earth like a warm and welcoming blanket, the kind that makes you forget about time. Birdsong echoed lazily through the air, lulling the atmosphere with an almost drowsy serenity. It was the kind of morning that seemed to have come out of a dream - but for me, it was just another day trying to pass unnoticed.
I was in the school garden, an open area where plants grew in organized stone circles. It was my refuge. A month had passed since the start of third year, and although I was only twelve, my body told a different story. I'd heard people say that I looked fourteen, maybe even fifteen. At 1.60m tall and with defined muscles for my age, I drew attention to myself without meaning to. My hair was short, black as wet coal, and fell slightly over my forehead when I bent down to tend the flowers. And there I was, watering the plants in a white apron stained with dirt, as if I had nothing to do with the world outside.
At least, that's what I tried to do.
"Hey... when are you going to give me an answer?"
I sighed. Of course it was her. I couldn't stop the thought that maybe I had been cursed.
Ever since I got here, I hid everything about who I was. I left behind the guards, the titles, the privileges — even the finely woven clothes stayed in locked trunks. I wanted to live like any ordinary boy. No important surname, no one calling me 'sir'. And yet... yet there were girls. There always were.
"I don't think we'd work out." I replied in a low voice, trying to keep my tone neutral as I continued to water the lilies in the field.
"Hmph! You didn't even ask me my name... you didn't even look at me properly. Don't you think I'm pretty?"
There was something annoyingly sweet about that voice. I turned just a little, enough to notice her steady gaze, crossed arms, and frown. She was a redhead, the kind with hair that seems to catch the sunlight. Short, but with a stubborn, almost ferocious presence. Her eyes — big and brown — watched me as if they expected something from me that I wasn't ready to give.
"I guess so. You're pretty." I admitted. "But I've seen many like you."
I didn't mean it. It was just the truth. She had that kind of well-groomed, classic beauty. Cute, but with a hint of arrogance inherited from a noble birthplace. Two years older than me, from a country town. The daughter of a baron, if I'm not mistaken. She was the kind of girl who grew up hearing that she deserved the best - and thought that meant having whatever she wanted.
She took a step forward, and a floral scent spread around me like an invisible trap. My instincts warned me, but I remained still, trying not to frown or show how much the scent affected me.
"Hmph... they're not like me. I bet you've only been involved with ladies without lineage, peasants, merchants' daughters at most. None with dignity, like me."
I arched an eyebrow and, with a slight sneer that I couldn't hide, I said,
"Really?"
On the outside, my tone was calm. Almost bored. But inside... I was beginning to wonder what exactly she wanted from me. Why was she so interested? Had she discovered who I really was? Or was she just after something — a name, a story, a status hidden under apron and clay?
That girl was dangerous.
And I, unfortunately, was beginning to enjoy it.
"Sure, let's go out on a date. Look around." she said, with an almost accusing tone. "Everyone's dating. Don't you feel... lonely?"
I took a deep breath, trying not to laugh. It was funny the way she said it, as if relationships were a social obligation, like wearing a uniform or taking weekly exams.
But her question stuck in my mind. Alone? No... not exactly. Lonely, perhaps. But not for lack of company - but because I couldn't see the point in following in the same footsteps as everyone else.
Over the last month, I realized that I wasn't the only boy who had flaws, who made mistakes, who was rejected or underestimated. There were many like me. Some got over it. Others... well, they made different decisions.
Joana, for example. She was in the same year as me. She was dating an older guy - Theodore's brother. And when I say "dated", I mean she had him in the palm of her hand. He bought her everything: flowers, dresses, even imported sweets. Once, he gave her half his allowance just to please her after a simple smile from her. She ignored him most of the time, as if he were just another servant. And yet there he was, always coming back, always hoping for a crumb of affection.
And Alice? Ah... Alice was a case in point. There were at least five boys orbiting around her now. Five of them. They did everything she told them to. And even when she humiliated them - with harsh words, cold laughter or absurd demands - they came back. One of them even wiped the mud off the sole of her boot with his shirt sleeve. I'd heard those words before, the ones she used. They were recycled. Repeated. The same ones she threw at me one day.
But I... I learned.
I was different now. No longer naïve. And I wouldn't waste my energy on something that would get me nowhere.
"Why do you want to go on a date with me?" I asked, staring at the 14-year-old girl. She was two years older than me, but her reaction seemed... childish.
She hesitated. Her eyes fled from mine. Then she answered, with barely concealed boldness:
"I think you're nice. And I'm not going to let a peasant turn me down. Don't think I'm going to give up."
(Peasant.) Ah... so that's what she thought I was.
I smiled, almost finding the situation funny.
"I refuse."
"Hmph!" she huffed and turned around, her red hair swaying as she walked away with firm steps.
I stared for a moment, then turned and walked over to the botany teacher, who was observing a rare flower in the corner of the garden. I asked a few questions about it, curious about its medicinal properties. My herb book had grown a lot over the last few weeks. It was becoming a veritable diary of discoveries, and - as much as my father thought it was a waste of time - studying botany was more useful than it seemed.
So another month passed.
In between the daily training sessions, which continued to be demanding, I concentrated almost exclusively on my studies. I noticed that, even without forcing myself, my sword technique was becoming more refined. Natural. Stable. It was as if my body was finally understanding the movements that my mind had already memorized.