What is purpose?

Alexander and the team marched out to their buses with lazy chatter and bags slung over their shoulders.

Alexander was at the back of the line, dragging his spear—his lips pressed thinly. 

"Oh Sir Alexander, you played a large role in our victory today." Jules nudged his shoulder with a grin. "Not many can guard the rear so furiously."

Alexander raised a middle finger. 

Jules gasped, raising a hand to his chest. 

"My-my Sir Alexander, is that how you truly feel?" 

He barely held back a snicker.

"Yeah, this is how I feel about your sarcasm." 

Alexander raised a second one.

Karl covered his face, his shoulders trembling. 

Just then, rushed footsteps could be heard.

Alexander looked over his shoulder to see Elizabeth jogging towards him.

Hinata trailed close behind.

"Alex!" Elizabeth called—her arms spread wide. 

"You were amazing!" 

She pressed her chest to his damp back, her arms wrapped around his chest tightly.

Alexander jerked forward—his cheeks red. 

Did we watch the same match?

"What are you talking about?" Alexander replied, dropping his spear to pry off Elizabeth. 

"I didn't do anything—and you shouldn't hold me, I stink."

Elizabeth nuzzled against him. "I don't care, you know that." She giggled.

"Elizabeth…"

Alexander sighed with a blush. 

"I'll be taking that." 

Jules reached for Alexander's bag and spear. 

"I doubt you'll ride back with us, Sir Alexander." 

He winked, before turning to leave.

Karl followed close behind. "Have fun, your highness." 

He teased with a wave.

Alexander frowned as he watched the load on the bus. 

How can they be so supportive—yet so ruthless?

Before the group left, Alexander caught Raphael's eye. 

"Better enjoy it, little brother."

He winked, before stepping on the bus. 

The doors hissed behind him, the engine roared to life—carrying the team away in a cloud of exhaust.

As Alexander stood there, frozen in Elizabeth's embrace. 

He didn't notice Louise and her family exit the arena. 

André led the way, waving his banner with a giddy grin.

"Oh man, it's been ages since I've enjoyed a Pathfinder match." He mused.

Béatrice sauntered beside him, her hand in his.

Her yellow eyes scanned the immediate area, before landing squarely on Alexander.

She tugged her lips into a frown.

"Ugh." She grumbled. 

"That girl is a nuisance."

André blinked. "Hm?"

He looked around, spotting Alexander as he tried to pry Elizabeth away. 

"Elizabeth!" He squealed.

André chuckled. "We should speak, I've missed that little rascal." 

He pulled Béatrice and Louise along, weaving through the thinning crowd. 

The excitement of the match had faded into quiet hums of postgame conversations.

"You're wasting your time, uncle." Louise chimed bitterly, "Alexander is a fool when he's wrapped in the clutches of that witch."

André chuckled. "Lou, let's not call our friends that, okay?" He handed her his small red flag. 

She took it with a blush. 

"Worthless." 

She grumbled.

Alexander finally managed to break free from Elizabeth's grip—now holding her back with one hand as he rested the other on his hip. 

"Oh Alex, you're such a stiff sometimes."

Elizabeth pouted as she hugged his arm tightly.

Before Alexander could retort, andré chimed in. 

"Well if it isn't our champion and his cheerleader." 

He teased, reaching out his free hand. 

"How ya been, buddy?"

Alexander smiled instinctively, reaching to shake his hand. "Hey André, I missed you."

André pulled Alexander into a side hug. 

"Missed ya too, Alex."

André glanced up at Elizabeth—she stood with her hands on her hips.

She smiled softly, her pink eyes sparkling with amusement. "Lord André, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

André chuckled warmly, keeping a hand on Alexander's shoulder. 

"Your highness, always the diplomatic type. We're just here to celebrate the win with Alex."

He continued. "And look at you, cheering on our boy like a true fan." 

Elizabeth smirked—there was a subtle edge in her gaze.

"How can I not? He's truly magnificent." 

She crossed her arms. 

"But I guess I can't have him all to myself, can I?"

She narrowed her eyes on Louise. 

Louise frowned. 

"Despite what your crown suggests, the world doesn't revolve around you." 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow—smirking. 

"I suppose it revolves around you then?" 

She laughed, "I only tease, I know Alex has…other obligations."

Louise twitched an eyebrow.

André cleared his throat, "I didn't mean to take Alexander from you—you're more than welcome to join us."

Elizabeth flashed a warm smile. 

"Oh, I have a train to catch." 

She sighed, stepping back. 

"I wish I could delay it, truly—but the world doesn't revolve around me…"

She turned her gaze towards Alexander, and he expressed softening as she squeezed his hand a final time. 

"…Does it?" 

She winked, before stepping away with a graceful swirl of her dress. 

Hinata fell into step behind her—trailing like a silent shadow.

Alexander gripped André's coat as he watched her leave. 

His eyes were wide as he swallowed hard. 

"See you…"

His voice was barely audible, too late for her to hear.

André ruffled his hair, pulling him close. 

"Don't look so down, buddy. You'll see her again tomorrow." 

He gestured to Louise, who gripped the small flag in her hand so tightly that it snapped in half.

"Unbelievable, utterly unbelievable." 

She tossed the broken pieces aside, before glaring at Alexander. "She plays you like a fiddle, a fool. A damn fool is what you are."

Alexander blinked, stepping back. 

"Louise, I–"

Louise turned purple with frustration, her red eyes blazing like embers of a fire. 

"Silence—Your excuses are useless to me." 

She turned away, storming off towards the courtyard edge. 

Her boots clicked against the cobblestone—skirt blowing in the breeze.

André sighed, massaging the back of his neck. 

"Don't worry, Alex." 

He tapped his shoulder, "Louise will come around, she just… needs a minute."

Alexander watched after her, his chest tight with guilt and confusion. 

"I don't even know what I did." He muttered.

"That's the point, boy." Béatrice finally spoke, her cold tone sending a shiver down his spine. 

"You walk without purpose—easy prey for a sculpture."

Her eyes glinted with a sharpness Alexander had grown to despise.

Alexander frowned. 

His chest rose with heat as his heart thumped in his ears. 

"What does that even mean?!" 

He asked angrily, his body trembling as his hair stood on end.

Both she and Louise, always with the cryptic fucking messages!

"I'm sick of you and Louise! I've done nothing wrong! Nothing! And you sit here judging me like I'm a criminal!"

Alexander's voice cracked, echoing across the courtyard. 

His fists were clenched at his sides—his knuckles white. His frustration had been building for weeks if not months. 

The match's adrenaline still rushed through him, and he couldn't hold it back anymore.

Béatrice's expression didn't change much—but there was a disappointed glare in her yellow eyes.

As if Alexander's outburst was nothing but a tantrum.

"Judging you? No, I'm simply pointing out the obvious, boy."

André shifted uncomfortably, his hand still gripping Alexander's shoulder. "Hey emotions are high, let's just take a—"

Alexander cut him off with an outburst. 

"Fuck you!" 

"Fuck the academy!"

"Fuck the du Novas!"

"And fuck high society as a whole! You people are nothing but stuck-up hypocrites! Especially you!" Alexander jabbed a finger at Béatrice.

"I'll find my way home, and I never want to see any of you again! Especially Louise!"

Alexander stomped off, marching into the distance. 

His head throbbed with heat as he massaged his temples. "They think I'm a pawn? I'll show them, I'll show them all."

He grumbled, gritting his teeth.

André frowned—glaring at Béatrice.

But when she met his gaze with that cold, unexpressive look. 

He knew getting angry wouldn't have made a difference.

"Béa…" 

His voice was soft as he took her hand. 

"…not everyone can handle the truth, especially Alex."