Not him.

Rumors spread faster than wildfire within the academy walls—especially when they concerned the second prince.

"Did you hear? Prince Venzel actually won against Professor Ivy!"

"Ha! You actually believe that? What's his first name again?"

"Prince."

Laughter echoed through the halls, sharp and merciless. Titles meant little within these walls, but beyond them?

A single whisper from the right noble could shatter a barony, erase a viscount's lineage overnight.

And Venzel? He was a prince in name only.

Among those who knew the truth, who understood the ugly situation of the royal family, there was no hesitation in sneering at him openly.

But the whispers died down when a new form of entertainment arrived.

"Hector, look—it's the prince's little toy."

A slow, wicked grin stretched across Hector's face. Karina.

"Haha! Right! Let's teach this bitch a lesson too."

The three of them—Hector, James, and Kane—stepped forward, their shadows stretching long over the stone path, blocking her way.

"Hey there, Four-Eyes, where do you think you're going?" Hector's voice was dripping with amusement, his gaze predatory.

Karina flinched. "I-I'm s-sorry... c-can I... p-please pass through?"

Her voice barely escaped her lips, thin as a thread. Weak. Timid. The exact way they liked it.

James let out a snort, nudging Kane. "You seeing this? She's about to cry!"

Their laughter was loud, unrestrained..

Hector stepped closer, his shadow swallowing hers whole. "You think stuttering is gonna help you?" His hand shot out.

Karina barely had time to react before her book was ripped from her arms and tossed behind him.

Thud.

The notebook landed on the ground, pages crumpling under the weight of impact.

Karina froze.

"Not again."

"Why always me?"

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. But she didn't lift her head. She knew better.

James reached out and yanked her glasses off her face. The world blurred instantly. Shadows. Shapes. Nothing she could make sense of.

"Tch. What kind of noble needs glasses anyway?" His voice was amused, disgusted. "You're a disgrace, Karina."

Kane clicked his tongue. "And this is the girl the second prince was engaged to? Damn, no wonder he's been chasing Lady Angie instead."

Laughter followed.

Each word felt like a slap against Karina's already fragile heart.

She couldn't fight back.

She never could.

And what made it even worse was the fact that no one around them had tried to stop it. No one seemed to care.

Karina couldn't hold it in any longer.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

She ran.

Her books, her glasses—everything she had—lay scattered on the cold stone path, forgotten.

She just needed to escape.

But without her glasses, the world was nothing more than shifting shadows and indistinct shapes. She didn't see the person in front of her until it was too late.

Thud.

She crashed into them, nearly toppling over from the impact.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

The sharp voice cut through her daze, snapping her back to reality.

"I-I'm sorry!" She bowed her head repeatedly, voice breaking, the sting of embarrassment and fear tightening her chest.

Silence.

The man's expression shifted, the irritation fading as he took in her shaking form—her red-rimmed eyes, the way she held herself so small, as if trying to disappear.

And then, he pulled her into an embrace.

The voice that answered wasn't sharp. Wasn't mocking.

It was warm. Steady.

"It's okay… It's okay."

Her breath hitched.

Warm arms wrapped around her, firm yet careful, like she might break apart if held too tightly. The scent of fresh linen and something faintly familiar—like the earth after rain—filled her senses.

Her body tensed. She should pull away. Should run. But for once, she didn't.

Because, even if it was just for a second, she felt safe.

The man gently guided her down, his touch careful, as if she were something fragile—something that needed to be handled with care.

"Wait here, alright?" His voice was warm, reassuring, like a gentle breeze on a suffocating day. "I'll go get your things back. I promise."

A promise.

It shouldn't have meant anything.

People made empty promises all the time. Yet, something about the way he said it—steady, unwavering—made her believe him.

Karina hesitated, her fingers clutching at the hem of her sleeve. The fear of refusal, of things turning worse, gnawed at her.

"O-okay…" she whispered, barely audible.

The man offered her a small, comforting smile before stepping away. For the first time in a long time, someone was standing up for her.

And as she sat there, waiting, her heart fluttered with an unfamiliar feeling.

Hope.

As she sat alone, waiting, Karina hummed softly to herself—a quiet, soothing tune that had lingered in the corners of her memory for as long as she could remember.

And in her mind, the words followed.

"If you could turn back the hands of fate, would you?"

"Would you risk everything to correct a single mistake?"

A wistful song. A question with no easy answer.

But before she could dwell on it, the air around her shifted.

Crackle—

A sharp burst of magic clashed against something unseen, splitting the silence apart. Abrupt. Jarring.

And then, just as suddenly as it had come—it ended.

The stillness that followed felt deafening.

Karina's breath hitched.

She didn't know what to do. Her mind—so used to fear, so used to hiding—simply stopped.

Frozen.

Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew she should move, should call out, should run—but she couldn't.

She had spent a lifetime running.

From whispers. From laughter. From a world that had never seen her as anything more than fragile.

She was born with poor eyesight—an affliction that had marked her as weak before she even had a chance to prove herself.

She still remembered the stares. The hushed voices behind elegant fans.

"Useless."

"Defective."

"What kind of noble can't even see properly?"

She closed her eyes. As if that would make the voices stop. As if that would make the world kinder.

It was only when her parents sought out a famous magic doctor that things changed.

A pair of enchanted glasses.

A gift. A lifeline.

With them, she could finally see.

Yet, even with clear vision, the world remained unforgiving.

Because no matter how well she saw now, people still chose not to see her.

And here she was again. Blind without her glasses. Blind, afraid, and waiting—waiting for a man whose name she didn't even know to come back.

But would he?

Or was she simply hoping for too much?