Friends

The sun filtered through the high windows of the Royal Academy, casting a golden glow on its pristine courtyards and lush gardens. Morning classes had come and gone, and as the afternoon rolled around, I found myself nursing a new goal: make friends.

It was simple enough in theory, wasn't it? A noble title, an unmatched talent as a Diamond-grade summoner, and being the daughter of the illustrious Veylin family should make social connections effortless. But reality was far more unforgiving.

"Sorry, I'm busy," the girl I had approached said, her tone polite yet clipped, as she tilted her head and promptly walked away.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the space she left behind, before sighing deeply. Brutal.

If anyone had told me making friends was this hard, I wouldn't have believed them. The books I read as a child promised camaraderie blossoming in the hallowed halls of prestigious academies. My reality, however, was more akin to being the lone rook abandoned on a chessboard, surrounded by queens and knights.

Dragging my feet, I retreated to the familiar solace of the garden, my ever-reliable bench waiting for me like a steadfast old friend. Settling down, I opened my lunch, my hands moving mechanically as my mind mulled over the morning's humiliations.

'So much for being talented,' I thought bitterly, picking at the carefully prepared sandwich. Apparently, no amount of summoning prowess could shield me from the blunt rejections of teenage girls.

The sound of lively laughter floated through the garden, shattering my solitude. Against my better judgment, I glanced toward the source. Gail Kilt.

There he was, the infamous playboy, surrounded by a small entourage of giggling admirers. He leaned casually against a tree, his messy black hair catching the light as he delivered some undoubtedly charming quip that had the entire group in stitches. For a moment, I watched him, envy bubbling up despite my best efforts to squash it.

'He makes it look so easy,' I thought, turning back to my lunch. But the pit in my stomach wasn't just from hunger.

"Hm, there you are," a familiar voice cut through the air.

I looked up in surprise to find none other than Prince Valkas von Thane standing before me, his crimson eyes warm but scrutinizing.

"Your Highness," I said hastily, nearly upsetting my lunchbox as I scrambled to my feet to bow.

"Please, Lady Elara, no need for formality," he said, raising a hand to stop me, his smile disarming.

I hesitated but slowly sank back onto the bench, quickly smoothing my skirt. "Were you… expecting me to be here?" I asked, cautiously curious.

"Somewhat," he admitted, his tone light as he settled beside me. "I've noticed you prefer solitude in the garden during lunch."

His observation made me stiffen slightly. 'He noticed?' I thought, unsure whether to feel flattered or self-conscious.

"I also know," he continued, "that Lady Elara does not have many friends."

That was it. Straight to the heart of the matter, no sugarcoating. My smile faltered as I stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or cry at his bluntness.

"I wasn't mocking you," Valkas added quickly, sensing my discomfort. "It's simply… natural."

"Natural?" I repeated, tilting my head in confusion.

He leaned back slightly, his gaze turning thoughtful. "It's difficult for people like us to make friends, isn't it?"

I understood what he meant. As a prince, Valkas bore the burden of immense status. People gravitated toward him for his power and influence, not necessarily for who he was. As the sole Diamond-grade summoner and the daughter of the Veylins, I wasn't so different. We were more symbols than people to many.

But before I could voice my agreement, he added, "Not just that. There's someone working against you."

I blinked. "Working against me?"

"Do you find it odd," Valkas asked, leaning forward slightly, "that every girl you approached today rejected you outright?"

My brow furrowed. "I… I did think it was strange, but—who would do that?"

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Mary Greenward."

Her name hit like a thunderclap, and suddenly, everything made sense. The rejections, the curt dismissals, the sideways glances.

"Mary Greenward?" I repeated, disbelief lacing my words. "But why?"

Valkas chuckled dryly. "Why? Because she's the future queen of high society. As a summoner, she can't compare to you, Lady Elara, but when it comes to politics and social maneuvering, there's no one better."

I absorbed his words, my mind piecing together the puzzle. The Greenwards were the weaker of the two ducal families when it came to summoning power, but their mastery of politics kept them firmly entrenched among the kingdom's elite. Mary, it seemed, had inherited that talent in spades.

"She's… threatened by me?" I ventured hesitantly.

"Not just threatened," Valkas corrected, his tone turning serious. "You're the sole Diamond-grade summoner in our kingdom's history, the daughter of one of its most powerful families, and now a potential player in high society. Mary isn't just threatened, Lady Elara. She sees you as a rival."

The weight of his words settled over me like a heavy cloak. For all the power I wielded as a summoner, it seemed I was woefully unprepared for the subtler battles of high society.

"Thank you for telling me," I said finally, my voice steady but quiet.

He smiled, his crimson eyes softening in a way that felt oddly disarming. "It's only fair, isn't it? People like us should look out for each other."

For the first time that day, a faint ember of hope flickered in my chest. Perhaps I wasn't as alone as I had thought.

"And," he continued, his voice taking on a lighter, teasing tone, "this is only part of the reciprocity for the gift your summon gave me."

"Reciprocity?" I asked, tilting my head in confusion.

Valkas leaned back slightly, a glint of something unreadable in his gaze. "I showed that manual to Sir Galahad," he said, referring to the Knight Order's commander. "He called it 'peerless.' A gift like that deserves more than a simple thank you and what I sent to the manor. It makes me want to reward you even more, Lady Elara."

"Please, Your Highness," I said, raising my hands quickly in protest, "I'm not worthy of more praise—or rewards, for that matter."

He chuckled softly, the sound warm rather than condescending. "Alright, how about something simpler, then?"

I eyed him warily, uncertain where this was going. "What do you propose?"

His crimson eyes gleamed with quiet confidence as he said, "How about I be your escort to the Founder's Banquet?"