Cyril blankly stared into Rhamn's eyes, as she acted as the barrier guarding against all the evils of the world.
"You didn't react as strongly as I thought you would." Margaret mumbled on the other side, her voice filled with disappointment at a mischief failed.
"Are you perhaps ill? Tell me, in today's age we can easily cure something as simple as im-"
"Principal Margaret, you wanted to see me. It must be in regard to Atheris sneaking into the castle," he interrupted with a frown.
"My opinion of her is taking a nosedive."
Yeah.
Margaret's witch hat wobbled to the sides as a bored sigh escaped her thin lips.
"I suppose so."
"The issue is you not having a permit from what I've seen."
The sound of a drawer being opened rang in his ears. Soon through Rhamn flew a small medal, landing on the desk in front of Cyril.
It was a gold medal with a whole menagerie of animals depicted on it, exquisite in its design. It was clearly magical in some way, though its effects he couldn't discern.
"There, problem solved. As for animals running wild... It happens occasionally. No one will ever be harmed in here. It's fine."
Cyril picked up the medal, observing it with some befuddlement. Margaret's words were filled with dismissal, clearly not caring about the incident at all.
"Very good, though she is still a pervert." Rhamn nodded, the medal reflected in her red eyes.
Tigris in his lap also peered into it, staring with excitement. Atheris flicked her tongue with curiosity too, then a certain feeling of satisfaction radiated from her.
"...!"
Cyril put the medal back on the desk and flung it across. It passed through Rhamn, disappearing to the other side.
"I will get it through proper channels. As for Atheris, I do think a punishment of some kind is in order. At least to placate the people affected."
If I accept it, it will only encourage Atheris's actions. She will begin believing that by raising a ruckus she can achieve anything she wants.
"Is it bad? We can just give her anything she wants."
...Yes. It's bad.
Cyril glanced coldly at the snake, making her retreat back into his jacket.
"As you wish," Margaret replied with some awkwardness.
"Then... Hmm." She tilted her head in thought, her witch head tilting with it.
"Then, you'll visit the Room of Reflection and stay there for half a day. That should be good enough."
"Room of Reflection?""Sounds interesting."
"It's a room filled with mirrors. I enchanted it out of boredom, but people seem to think it's fearsome. If you go there, they'll calm down."
"Shall I go now?"
"Do that tomorrow, there's no rush." Margaret tapped on the wooden desk, talking as if about a house chore one often postpones because of laziness.
"Now, let's return to the topic of illusion magic. Since you are here, let's do a study session."
I suppose I have time. We don't have anything else planned, right?
"...Nothing important anyway."
"If you are not busy, but..." Cyril hesitated, glancing at where he assumed Margaret was. He couldn't exactly tell because of Rhamn.
"Since it might take some time, do you wish to wear something?"
Margaret went silent. Instead of replying, she suddenly stood up from her chair and walked all the way up to Cyril.
Before Rhamn could move between them in a panic, she stood right in front of Cyril and snapped her fingers.
Cyril could distinctly feel the presence of magic on her body disappearing, the spells acting on her being removed.
"...!"
Her clothes flashed in a purplish light. In a mere moment they turned into... another dark robe.
As her thin lips widened into a mischievous smile, Margaret was still dressed from head to toe in the exact same robe. Only, it somehow looked more ordinary now.
"Did you really think I would be only wrapped in a bath towel in front of a student? Tsk, tsk, Cyril, I am hurt you think of me this way." Margaret held her shoulders, twisting her body in a most dramatical display of hurt feelings.
"Or perhaps you'd hoped I would be? Maybe you are a healthy young man after all." Her voice barely held back its laughter.
Cyril could only stare blankly in response, feeling speechless.
So the bath towel from the beginning was an illusion that she then covered with another illusion, while all along she was just wearing a robe?
"She did all of that just for a small laugh?" Rhamn widened her mouth, then something close to admiration mixed with disgust showed through in her red eyes.
"Is there anywhere we can report her for inappropriate behavior after all?"
I'm afraid not.
...
As Margaret had her fill, they've finally begun their learning. Atheris and Tigris calmly stayed in their rightful places, listening in on Cyril's lesson. They've understood nothing, of course, but they stayed quiet and pretended they did.
After some time of preparation, Cyril finally felt ready to cast a simple illusion for the first time.
Under Margaret's watchful eyes, hidden by the brim of her witch hat, Cyril stood in the middle of the room and raised his hand. Slowly a magic circle formed in front of him, its pattern the most complicated he ever made.
After it was done and activated, on the marble floor in front of Cyril a peculiar change happened.
From solid stone grew a beautiful red flower.
However, it appeared unnatural, flowing as if it were a reflection on the water. Perhaps even a toddler would doubt its authenticity.
Cyril frowned, finding the results perplexing. He didn't feel like he did anything wrong. Nevertheless, his cheering squad hissed, meowed, and yelled in excitement, happy for the results in his place.
"It's just the first step! Practice makes perfect!"
Ignoring them, he turned towards Margaret, seeking some kind of answer from her.
"Strange. Your casting seemed good. The results should be better than this..." she said, thoughtfully staring at the obvious illusion.
Cyril stopped supporting the spell, letting the flower disappear into thin air.
"...Perhaps I have no talent in illusion magic after all," he said, in a manner that almost seemed challenging.
Margaret scoffed, shaking her head. "That simply cannot be. There must be another reason..."
Her thoughtful stare landed on him, staying for several minutes. Cyril crossed his arms, calmly waiting for the verdict.
"I feel there's a change in you since I last saw you. Did something happen?"
"People change all the time, there is no need for something specific for it to happen," he replied, his voice almost defensive.
Margaret shook her head, her voice certain. "No, this is not it. It's only been a few days..."
Her stance suddenly shifted as she looked at him with eyes that actually reminded him of a responsible professor.
"You do remember how illusion magic must thrive on a specific emotion, like how I use jealousy to fuel it?"
Cyril slowly nodded, getting a somewhat uncomfortable premonition.
"But you actively prevented yourself from feeling anything as you cast the spell. Why did you do that?" Margaret's voice seemed more and more certain the more she spoke.
"I, personally, think something like pride would do well with you... Unless lust would do better?"
Cyril went silent, even ignoring her mischievous remark. Slowly a feeling of complaint began gnawing at him, so he looked at Margaret with something close to reproach.
"Are negative emotions truly what's needed? Maybe something like courage could be used instead. I believe surrendering yourself to pride would only lead to something bad in the long run."
Margaret's mischievous smile slowly settled into her normal thin smile. She seemed at a loss for words.
"Courage?" Her smile began shaking as she spoke with dramatic seriousness. "Right, we can also use pure love, humility, and a sense of joyous whimsy."
"..."
"Hahaha!"
She laughed at his silence, wiping with her hand into her witch hat, as if to get rid of any tears.
"Please! Who are you? Some naive kid still believing the world is a fair and just place? I never expected this from you! haha!"
His face remained as calm as ever, his eyes gazing at her without any amusement.
She slowly calmed down, adjusting the hem of her witch hat that slightly slid down.
"Look, I am considered by many to be the second most powerful mage in the Empire, and I am saying jealousy, pride, and such are good for us! That's what makes the world work, you know? The moving force for humanity's progress."
"And do you think the Emperor, who sits at the very top of the Tower, is a humble and virtuous man? I'll tell you, none of the people at the top got where they are through honest work."
"Just don't think too hard about things. Enjoy yourself in life. That's all that matters."
Cyril stared into her face, as if attempting to see through her witch hat. He didn't know what to say in response, but he still didn't like her words.
"See? I told you that's what life is all about!" Rhamn suddenly exclaimed by his side, finally finding someone who agreed with her.
"Margaret is a really good person!" She nodded up and down. Her red eyes gazed at the principal of Ailanthus with growing appreciation.
...Didn't you say she is a pervert?
"That's irrelevant, and I really meant 'free-spirited.'"
I see...