Chapter 30: Cookies, Regrets, and Other Noble Disasters

The day began with the usual noise of students rushing across the academy courtyard—some late for class, others pretending they weren't. Ansel and Vulcan walked at their own pace, books tucked under their arms and dark circles under their eyes from last night's reading session.

"Do you think reading ancient languages gives you wrinkles?" Ansel asked.

Vulcan glanced at him. "You're manaless, not wrinkleless."

Before Ansel could retaliate, a very determined voice called out behind them.

"Wait!"

The voice belonged to none other than Princess Lily Eldoria, her silver hair shining in the morning sun like a battle-ready tiara. She jogged up, holding a small box in both hands.

Vulcan muttered, "Oh no, she brought ammunition."

Ansel blinked. "I don't think she's here to stab us, Vulcan."

"You don't know how nobles work."

Lily stopped just in front of them, panting lightly, cheeks a bit red—not from the run, but from what was clearly embarrassment.

"I… I wanted to apologize," she said, holding the box out like it might explode. "I was… kind of awful the other day."

"Kind of?" Vulcan asked with a straight face.

Ansel elbowed him. "What he means is, thank you for coming."

Lily exhaled. "I've been thinking about what I said. And the truth is… I let rumors get to me. I've spent my whole life around people who only care about power and appearances. But I saw you, Vulcan… and you, Ansel... and—ugh, this is hard to say—I was jealous."

"Jealous?" Vulcan blinked.

Lily nodded. "You two were just… being yourselves. And you looked happy. I've never had that."

Ansel, blinking in surprise, said gently, "That's… actually kind of sad."

"I know," Lily muttered. "So, I made these." She opened the box. "Cookies."

Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "Are they poisoned?"

Lily glared. "No!"

Ansel picked one up and bit into it cautiously. His eyes widened. "Wait… these are actually good."

"Of course they are," Lily huffed. "I had the palace chef teach me. Took me six tries. I may have exploded the kitchen once."

"You exploded the—okay, respect," Vulcan said, reaching for a cookie.

They sat down on a bench nearby, the awkwardness melting with each bite.

"So…" Lily began slowly, "can we start over? Maybe… be friends?"

Ansel looked at her, his voice soft. "Most people don't even want to be near me, let alone bake me cookies. You really didn't have to do all this."

"I know," Lily said. "But I wanted to."

Vulcan leaned back, munching. "As long as you don't call him a devil again, or spread any more nonsense, I'm fine with it."

"And you'll bring more cookies," Ansel added with a grin.

Lily laughed. "Deal. And maybe next time I'll bring cake."

"Then welcome to the club," Vulcan said dramatically, "the official Misfits of Class F."

"Wait, is that a real club?" Lily asked.

"No," Ansel replied, "but we'll make it one now."

And just like that, something strange happened.

A manaless boy.

A noble outcast.

And a royal girl with a box of cookies.

Three people who didn't quite belong suddenly found a place—together.