Chapter 26
"I saw this bag in a magazine last time—it's limited edition! I heard there are only two hundred in the world! Ondi, you're amazing."
"Ondi, your skin is so flawless. What skincare do you use? Teach me, please."
Ondine responded with a gentle, warm laugh.
Finally, her gaze landed on Seraphine.
For a fraction of a second, her smile froze.
The shift was so brief it was almost imperceptible—but Seraphine caught it.
The next moment, Ondine's face broke into an even brighter smile.
"Seraphine!" She hurried over, her voice sweet and carrying just the right amount of surprise and affection. "You're here so early! Mom and Dad told me to take good care of you as your sister. I was planning to meet you at the gate. It's your first time here—I was worried you wouldn't know your way around."
The classroom, which had been buzzing with whispers, suddenly fell silent.
Every eye turned toward Seraphine.
This stunning new girl was Ondine's sister?
Who was Ondine? The daughter of the Windsor family.
The Windsor family was one of the nation's most elite dynasties. Ondine had always been a person of considerable attention.
Sloane looked back and forth between Ondine and Seraphine, her mouth slightly open in surprise.
Seraphine glanced at Ondine and said flatly, "No need to pick me up. I can find my way."
"You're too much," Ondine said, sitting down beside her.
Her tone carried a hint of playful complaint, her posture tilting slightly—the kind of relaxed body language one only showed around close people. "We're sisters. No need to be so formal with me."
Sisters.
The word dropped like a stone into still water, sending ripples outward.
One of Ondine's followers, Rachel Valois, leaned over curiously. "Ondi, this is your sister? How come you never mentioned her before?"
"She just came back from the countryside," Ondine's tone was light and casual, as if discussing something ordinary. "She grew up with her foster family and only recently came home to us. Mom and Dad felt bad that she'd been through so much, so they brought her back."
The classroom fell silent again.
There was too much information packed into those few sentences.
Came back from the countryside. Grew up with a foster family. Only recently came home.
Rachel's eyes shifted, sweeping over Seraphine from head to toe.
Like appraising an item of uncertain value.
White blouse. Dark trousers. Canvas bag. No brands. No embellishments.
Compared to Ondine's pale yellow dress and limited-edition handbag, Seraphine looked anything but the heiress of a wealthy family.
Sloane, sitting beside Seraphine, sensed the shift in atmosphere keenly.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something to ease the tension, but didn't know what would help.
Ondine seemed to sense something as well. She turned toward Seraphine, her tone concerned, her voice as soft as water. "Seraphine, don't overthink it. They're just curious. No ill intent."
Her eyes looked sincere and warm—like a sister who genuinely cared.
But Seraphine caught the glint of triumph buried deep in her gaze.
Ridiculous.
Not bothering to engage, Seraphine turned her attention back to her notebook and lowered her head to read.
The bell rang.
A middle-aged woman wearing black-framed glasses entered the classroom—Kaida Evans, their major course instructor.
"We have a new student today," Kaida said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Seraphine Wipere. Starting today, she'll be attending classes with everyone. Let's welcome her."
Sparse applause scattered through the room.
Lukewarm. Perfunctory.
Seraphine stood, gave a slight nod as a greeting, then sat back down.
"Today, we'll critique last class's assignment: the retro-style women's fashion series design."
"When I assigned this, I emphasized that it required both creativity and execution."
"Retro doesn't mean copying. It means finding the intersection between traditional elements and modern aesthetics. Ondine, why don't you present your work first?"
Ondine stood, a confident smile on her face.
She walked to the front of the classroom, plugged a USB drive into the computer, and projected her design sketches onto the large screen.
It was a retro-style dress series.
Inspired by student uniforms from an earlier era, but modernized.
The waistline had been raised by an inch, the hem shortened a few centimeters, the neckline made more minimalist.
The overall color palette was a soft, elegant blue and white. Details included traditional knot buttons and embroidery in matching tones.
It had the charm of the past but retained a fashionable edge.
The moment the screen lit up, the classroom erupted with admiration.
"So beautiful!"
"Ondi, you're incredible!"
"That blue-and-white color scheme is perfect—so soft and sophisticated."
"If this were made into ready-to-wear, I'd buy it! No—I'd buy ten!"
Rachel's voice was the loudest. She turned from the front row, her eyes sparkling. "Ondi, you're definitely getting top marks again. Your designs have so much soul. None of us can keep up."
Another girl, Gaia Fisher, chimed in with exaggerated enthusiasm. "As expected from a daughter of the Windsor family. Growing up surrounded by the best, your taste is naturally different. Those of us from ordinary families can't even compare."
Ondine lowered her head slightly, displaying perfectly measured shyness.
Her cheeks flushed faintly, as though embarrassed by the praise.
She said softly, "Don't say that. I just got lucky and put in a bit more time. Everyone's work is great."
The words were modest—but her posture on the platform clearly showed she was basking in it.
Kaida nodded as well, her tone appreciative. "Not bad. The proportions are well-executed, and the details are handled beautifully. Especially the knot button design—it preserves traditional elements without looking dated. Ondine, you've made significant progress. I can tell you put in the effort."
Ondine returned to her seat. Rachel immediately leaned over.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for several nearby rows to hear. "Ondi, how did you come up with that blue-and-white palette? Teach me. I want to create something like yours, but I just don't have the inspiration."
Gaia added from the side, "Ondi's a natural talent. We can't learn that. She grew up in a wealthy family, surrounded by the best of everything. Her aesthetic is naturally different. That's the starting line gap—can't be helped."
The words seemed like compliments on the surface, but the underlying message was clear.
People born into wealth have inherently better taste.
And by extension, people from ordinary backgrounds naturally have worse taste.
Seraphine leaned back in her chair, twirling her pen lightly between her fingers as she listened. The corner of her mouth curved slightly.
The arc was faint—not mocking, not angry, but more of an "as expected" kind of understanding.
She knew these words were directed at her.
Every time Rachel or Gaia spoke, they glanced her way, intentionally or not.