In October, Phitoya Territory was often shrouded in mist at night.
Though Roa was bustling with commercial prosperity, Phitoya's economy was still primarily agricultural. As a result, vast fields and profitable orchards surrounded Roa on all sides.
The mist would roll in from the countryside, scale the high city walls, and settle throughout the city.
Even though Roa was lively early in the morning with people coming and going, the lingering fog refused to disperse easily.
If the ridgeline of the Crimson Dragon Mountains was its proud head, then the forest beneath was its beard.
And beneath that?
Rolling hills, like the dragon's claws, gripped the entire Phitoya Territory.
The lord's mansion was built right upon one such "claw."
That morning, it had rained. The elevation made the mansion noticeably colder than the rest of Roa.
Outside the windows: a misty autumn morning.
"Sylphy! Eris skipped class again!!"
Sylphy stood up. Despite Rudy's panicked shouting, she didn't seem rushed at all. Instead, she calmly pushed her chair back and walked to the door.
Her bare feet sank slightly into the soft carpet, leaving faint imprints that slowly rebounded. The carpet had just been replaced yesterday by the beastkin maids—back to the soft fur-like style of late March and early April, instead of the heat-dispersing mats used during summer.
She had left her shoes by the door last night and walked barefoot. It felt incredibly comfortable.
But halfway to the door, she stopped.
Her lashes fluttered; her reddish-brown eyes dropped downward.
She was still wearing soft, high-quality silk pajamas—Hilda had given them to her just before autumn.
Sylphy turned.
Two steps.
She stood before the wardrobe and opened it.
To the left: all kinds of dresses, mostly white, in various fabrics. Some were hand-sewn by Norah with precise stitching. Some were gifts from Hilda—like a moon-white gown. Some were bought during a shopping trip with the others… Though in the end, Sylphy had restrained Allen's overzealous idea of exchanging all his promises at once for ten dresses.
What she had said then was:
"Allen… maybe space them out over time. After all, there's still a long, long way to go."
Allen had looked at her, slightly stunned, then nodded.
He watched her eyes drift from a blue dress to a nearby white one.
She picked it, bought it, packed it.
Allen paid, carrying all the bags behind the group.
Seeing that, Eris found it amusing and naturally handed her own shopping bags to him too.
Surprisingly… it suited him.
Allen truly was born to be a "clothes rack."
Sylphy blinked. The vivid memory made her lips curve into a small smile… but then she thought about Allen's current state, and that smile vanished.
She placed both hands on the long, cat-eared hoodie-style pajama—characteristic of the Boreas family.
Gripping the hem, she lifted.
In that moment—even though the windows were shut—the rainy autumn mist outside felt as though it had seeped into the room.
The air was humid and stifling.
A thin sheen of sweat beaded on her skin.
As the nightwear peeled from her legs, it pulled momentarily against her thighs before sliding up, taking some of the sweat along with it.
Sylphy pulled the pajama top over her head. Her long ears twitched in the air.
She glanced toward the window, sensing the heat of the morning.
Then she reached for the dress Allen had given her back in Buena Village.
Its fabric was light, stiff, and more breathable.
She slipped it on over her head.
Let go.
The hem dropped around her legs.
It swayed as it fell—what used to reach her knees had now risen ten centimeters, becoming a short skirt.
Without pause, she stepped into a pair of laced leather shoes—the same style as Eris's.
She bent down, buckled the straps.
Straightened up, smoothed her slightly tousled white hair, and walked to the door.
All of this had taken—
Less than ten seconds.
Ten months ago, Sylphy would've hurriedly thrown on whatever she found and rushed out.
But after ten months of etiquette classes and near-weekly "ladies' tea times," her actions had become both swift and subtly graceful.
Click— the door opened.
Across the hallway, in the classroom.
Only one student sat stiffly at a desk—someone who least looked the part.
She was staring at yesterday's reading and writing homework Rudy had left behind.
Frowning.
Her cat ears twitched spiritedly.
It was Ghislaine.
Sylphy glanced her way and sighed, then turned.
She saw Rudy leaning against a wall, arms outstretched, looking helpless. He nodded toward the empty classroom with his chin.
"See? She skipped again. But wind discipline officer, why are you up so late today?"
Sylphy blinked. After ten months of Rudy's influence, she'd gradually come to understand this term Rudy had somehow "invented."
It was a classroom role meant to rein in unruly kids during class.
Sort of like a classroom maid.
Rudy saw her thoughtful expression and immediately cringed.
The first time he'd heard Sylphy's interpretation, he was stunned—he never imagined "wind discipline officer" could be turned into a cute maid role.
When he tried to correct her, Allen had chimed in with exaggerated realization, clapping his hands: "Oh! So that's what it means! I learned something new!"
Fine. A classroom maid, then.
Allen's face had been funny.
Heh. "Foolish" natives of this world of swords and sorcery.
Sylphy's voice pulled him back to the present.
"I didn't oversleep, Rudy. I was reading a letter from Lill this morning—that's what took time."
"But."
"If Eris isn't here, there's no reason for this 'wind discipline officer' to stay in class. After all, I'm a teacher, not a student."
Rudy winced.
"We all agreed to be students and study together! Now you're acting like Allen? At this rate, there won't be anyone left for reading class!"
They locked eyes.
Both sighed.
Eris skipping class? Old news.
So Sylphy wasn't surprised at all.
And Allen?
He was practicing swordsmanship.
"Excused" by request.
Yeah.
Totally playing hooky.
(End of Chapter)
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