Chapter 80: Removing the Blindfold

"I'd like to know something... What do you think of Mister Ardachir?"

"What do you mean?" he replied, glancing toward Eva, who was distracting the rest of their group.

"I mean, what do you think of him? He's nice, right?"

"Nice? That's not really the word that comes to mind when I see him. But well, he's your best friend's father..."

He looked uncomfortable. Blanche insisted, remembering that she had agreed to go on a date with him.

"It's just... I heard rumors. He doesn't exactly have a good reputation, does he?" she asked, knowing perfectly well that the opposite was true.

"Well, no. As a teacher, he's amazing. As a person... he's cold, distant, he never smiles. And he has that look..."

"What look?"

"You won't tell Eva? Promise?"

She nodded.

"When you're not around, he looks like he... shuts down. Like an empty shell."

Roberto approached curiously. Arthur hesitated, then continued, visibly too invested to stop now.

"I know he's a widower, but he feels more like a prison door than a human being."

"He's waiting for time to pass," Roberto added.

The two friends looked at him.

"You are talking about the history teacher, right?" Roberto said. "I've seen that look before in old people. It's like he's waiting for the end."

Blanche was struck by how accurate his analysis was... right until he added:

"But apparently that doesn't stop half the girls in our year from crushing on him. Older rigid men are apparently their thing!"

"What?!" was all she managed to say while Arthur shook his head in dismay.

"Oh yes, the other girls literally drool over him. They say he's the hottest teacher in the school. The classic teacher crush."

Her phone rang, saving her. She stepped slightly aside.

A rare occurrence.

She smiled when she saw the message:

Hey, Mom, it's me. A

Argy, finally. She did not even have his number — she had needed to wait for him to make the first move. Now she had it.

She was called back to class, which she returned to reluctantly, dragging her feet like a condemned prisoner being escorted back toward a reality infinitely less interesting than the one she had just left behind. The Academy's hallways suddenly felt narrow, noisy, almost dull after the intensity of the conversation and the silent revelations the auras now constantly offered her.

She returned to her real place beside her best friend.

And that simple fact alone lightened her mood a little.

Eva was sprawled dramatically across her chair with the exhausted elegance of a student already tired of existence even though the day was far from over. Seeing Blanche return with her phone in hand, she straightened slightly, curiosity immediately flashing across her face.

Class resumed.

Or more precisely, the teacher started speaking again while half the class slowly descended into silent academic agony.

Eva tried to look at her screen.

Blanche noticed immediately.

The subtle tilt of her head.

The eyes discreetly sliding toward her notebook again.

That expression far too innocent to be believable.

But Blanche was faster.

She shook her head slightly, unable to stop that quiet warmth from returning to her chest. Even after everything that had changed recently, some things remained exactly the same.

And honestly, that was probably what still kept her from completely losing her footing.

Hey you. You okay? Haven't seen your father by any chance?

I'm bored. Otherwise great. Yeah, he's here. Why?

I haven't seen him all day. I was starting to worry. What's he doing?

That's cute. I showed him your message, he smiled. It's the monthly kingdoms meeting. So I thought: let's talk to Mom.

I owe you for that, kid.

He says — and I quote — 'Pay attention in class.' I hope you won't.

Eva whispered, intrigued despite still listening to the German teacher:

"Who are you talking to?"

"My new best friend."

Eva dropped her pen.

"What?!"

The teacher turned around; Eva stammered an excuse and picked her pen back up. The moment the explanation resumed, she shot Blanche a murderous glare.

"You have things to tell me."

"Tonight."

"You better," she growled.

Blanche kept reading.

They're discussing balance, humans who know too much, hunters acting like gods, and internal problems.

Still more interesting than German.

No need to learn languages: at the language quest around level fifty, you understand and speak everything.

Always a pleasure talking to you.

Likewise. And now it gets fun: you're being mentioned. Your grandpa is going to introduce you at the gala this weekend.

Great... that's exactly what I was missing.

Oof. It's escalating. He called you crown princess.

Seriously?!

Mixed reactions. They want conditions.

You're not going to like them...

Whatever. If I'm a diamond drakion, that changes nothing.

So you know about your scales now? About time. I'll keep you updated. Kisses.

Yep. Kisses.

Blanche raised her hand.

"May I go to the bathroom?"

The teacher agreed without hesitation. Barely had Blanche asked the question before the woman nodded and resumed teaching as though nothing had happened.

No remark.

No annoyed sigh.

Not even that disapproving look adults loved to give when they wanted to subtly remind students of their authority.

She had even seen Blanche on her phone and found nothing to criticize.

Blanche had noticed it earlier: the screen discreetly lit beneath the desk, the messages quickly checked, the teacher's attention drifting elsewhere for a few seconds now and then. And yet, the woman had not reacted at all.

And honestly... it made sense.

Second day after her accident, top of the class... nothing unusual there.

Blanche had always benefited from that particular kind of privilege reserved for exceptional students: silent indulgence. As long as her grades remained flawless, part of the rulebook suddenly became remarkably flexible around her.

Teachers forgave her absences more easily.

Her silences.

Her apparent lack of involvement in school life.

Even her missteps were often dismissed as fatigue, stress, or simply... the eccentricity of an academic genius.

Because deep down, nobody truly worries about a student who succeeds.

And there was something slightly sad about that thought. But for now, it suited her perfectly.

She needed to go to the bathroom.

Except she did not go there.

Kiyan was stuck in a meeting.

This was the perfect moment to enter his room without him knowing.

She left the school, called a taxi, and climbed into the first one that stopped, heading toward her neighborhood.