Early in the morning, William could be seen walking toward the academy—without a bag.
He wore the academy's official training gear: a crisp white shirt with loose sleeves and small buttons, paired with brown pants that allowed for easy movement. Simple, practical, and unrestrictive.
He rarely carried weapons, but for safety's sake, a short dagger rested on his waist.
As he passed through the academy gates, his attention was immediately drawn to the left—where students had gathered for the morning drills.
And when he looked at them, his gaze was unintentionally drawn towards a particular girl.
A silver-haired girl standing amidst the crowd, her presence effortlessly drawing every eye.
Emma wore the same uniform, though it looked almost tailored to her—her white shirt neatly tucked, her brown pants fitting just right, accentuating her elegant figure. Her hair, tied in a ponytail, shimmered faintly in the morning sun, and the soft light made her pale skin seem almost translucent.
