Chapter 84

Chapter 84

Sara walked over and sat down opposite the headmaster, his movements graceful and composed. He reached out to pour himself a cup of black tea. The crimson tea swirled in the pristine white bone china cup, resembling a beautiful painting. The color of the tea grew even more vivid, shimmering with an enchanting luster under the refracted light. Sara inhaled the rich aroma, which instantly filled his senses. He took a sip, savoring the warm, mellow flavor spreading across his tongue, and then spoke slowly, "Thank you for your concern, Headmaster."

Headmaster Constantine's gaze was gentle, like that of a benevolent elder. He leaned forward slightly, speaking earnestly, "I'm truly glad you've found someone so considerate. Young people should live like young people—go out more, get some sun. Don't be like an old man like me, who's too old to get around and just stays holed up in the academy." His voice was low and warm, carrying the weight of years and wisdom.

Sara sipped his tea in silence, not speaking, merely listening quietly to the headmaster's words. A flicker of contemplation passed through his eyes, as if he was pondering the headmaster's advice or perhaps considering his own future with Evan.

Headmaster Constantine let out a soft sigh, the sound as light as a feather settling in the air. He pulled an invitation from his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate, and placed it on the table. "This is an invitation from that prince. He is celebrating the birth of a son—the royal family's first prince of the third generation. A celebratory ball will be held in three days. He personally wrote this invitation for you."

Sara's eyes instantly turned icy, like frost in the depths of winter, capable of freezing everything. He stared at the invitation, his gaze filled with disgust and disdain, as if it were some repulsive filth. The invitation, as if of its own volition, trembled slightly on the table. Seeing the name on it, Sara's disgust intensified, and an uncontrollable rage surged within him. In an instant, a fireball materialized out of thin air. The flames roared fiercely, carrying intense heat and palpable anger. In mere moments, the invitation was burned to nothing—not even ashes remained—as if it had never existed.

Headmaster Constantine had anticipated such a reaction from Sara. He simply watched with a smile, his eyes holding a trace of helplessness and understanding. In his view, this prince who didn't know his place was rather laughable. If someone so lacking in judgment were to ascend the throne, it would be no good thing. Fortunately, His Majesty the Emperor had two princes and one princess. As long as the Emperor remained clear-headed, such a situation would not be allowed to arise.

The summer days flew by. In the blink of an eye, it was August 30th. At the Imperial Knight Academy, this day was both tense and fulfilling for Evan. The high-intensity training courses came at him like relentless waves, one after another, nearly draining all his energy. As the last rays of the setting sun faded and night slowly descended, Evan finally finished his classes for the day. Dragging his exhausted body, reeking of unpleasant sweat, he hastily ate dinner before plunging into the bathroom for a quick, efficient shower, washing away the grime and fatigue. By the time he emerged, the world outside his window was pitch black, the night enveloping everything like a vast swathe of black silk.

Evan instinctively ran a hand through his damp hair, his gaze inadvertently falling on his desk. There, lying quietly, was an invitation. Its intricate patterns and gilded lettering exuded a mysterious aura under the lamplight, as if summoning him.

Perhaps because the day's classes had been so demanding, leaving his body and mind wound up, Evan found himself lost in thought. Within the Imperial Knight Academy, various club activities were like stars twinkling in the night sky, adding color to the otherwise monotonous academic life. These events were often scheduled for evenings or weekends, providing students with opportunities to relax and socialize.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he saw there was only an hour left until the club welcome ball at 8 PM. Normally, for such a formal dance, he should have worn a crisp, formal suit to showcase his elegance and poise. But after a moment's consideration, Evan decided to put on his familiar school uniform instead, meticulously fastening the school badge. Though plain, the uniform carried a distinct youthful charm. He walked to the mirror, carefully examining his reflection, then took out some pomade and meticulously slicked all his hair back. With the pomade's effect, his full forehead and bright brown eyes were fully revealed. His usually delicate features now held an added touch of maturity and confidence.

Ordinarily, Evan gave the impression of a pleasant, delicate-looking youth, like a gentle spring breeze that put people at ease. But now, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing his two playful little canine teeth. Yet, his eyes gleamed with a different light—no longer merely cute, but sharp and decisive, like a carnivorous predator sizing up its prey before the hunt. He resembled a lion about to pounce, exuding a masculine charisma that was hard to ignore.

Evan looked at his reflection in the mirror once more, nodded in satisfaction, then placed a finger-sized wooden case containing a concealed item into his pocket and prepared to leave.

Stepping out of the dormitory, the cool night breeze gently brushed his cheeks, and Evan's mood relaxed a little. He headed towards the Angel Building, a landmark structure of the Imperial Knight Academy and a source of inspiration for countless artists. Under the moonlight, the Angel Building resembled a mysterious castle, emanating an aura of solemnity, dignity, and allure. Every carving, every brick, seemed to narrate the academy's long history and glorious achievements. Evan unconsciously slowed his pace, admiring the lifelike angel statues. They varied in form—some with wings spread as if about to take flight, others holding scepters, as if guarding this sacred institution.

Ascending the steps slowly, Evan reached the main entrance. He gently pushed open the heavy door and entered the mysterious building. Room No. 1 wasn't far from the entrance. Walking along the corridor, he soon saw a wooden plaque marked "No. 1." The black wooden door was closed, from behind which soft, pure music faintly emanated, like a summons from a mysterious world.

Evan gently pushed the door open. A flood of soft light instantly poured out, enveloping him like a warm waterfall. The scene before him gave him a slight pause. It was a very spacious, aristocratic-style drawing room, exquisitely furnished. Music flowed from a gramophone like a babbling brook, filling the entire room. Gas lamps emitted a gentle glow, casting the space in a warm, romantic light. Luxurious sofas and plush carpets covered the floor, surrounded by various elegant decorations, each exuding an artistic flair. Small groups of men and women gathered here and there, holding delicate wine glasses, conversing in low tones, their laughter and chatter occasionally reaching Evan's ears. On the coffee tables were intricate patterns formed from dainty pastries, which looked utterly delicious, as if tempting people to indulge.