Chapter 105 CHAPTER 105
Sebastian did not sit down.
For several long seconds after the principal’s words settled into the room, he remained standing where he was, his body rigid, his mind refusing to accept what he had just heard. The classroom felt too quiet, the air thick and unmoving, as though everyone was waiting for him to do something - say something - anything.
Princess Lisa Ashvale.
The name echoed in his head, loud and wrong and impossible.
His eyes moved slowly back to her, really looking this time, not as Cindy the servant, not as the girl he had once dismissed without thought, but as the young woman standing calmly beside Liam Blackthorne. She did not look smug. She did not look triumphant. She simply looked… composed. As though the truth had never needed defending.
Sebastian’s mouth opened, questions rushing forward all at once. How? When? Why? How did a servant disappear and return as royalty? Where had she been? How had he not known?
“Cindy…” he started, his voice cracking slightly before he could stop himself.
The door opened again.
Another teacher stepped into the classroom, her presence immediately commanding attention. She was older than most of the staff, her posture straight, her gaze sharp and observant. Sebastian recognized her instantly.
She was the same teacher who had supervised the assessment Lisa had taken weeks earlier. The one who had watched her carefully as she worked through the test that determined whether she would be placed in this class at all.
The principal turned toward her with a polite nod. “Perfect timing,” he said. “I’ll leave the class in your capable hands.”
He glanced toward Liam. “Commander Blackthorne, if you don’t mind giving us a bit of space. I’m certain Her Highness will be safe here.”
Liam hesitated.
His eyes flicked to Lisa, concern written plainly across his face. He had not moved far from her side since they entered the school, his presence steady and protective. The idea of stepping away, even for a short while, clearly unsettled him.
Lisa met his gaze and gave a small, reassuring nod.
“I’ll be okay,” she said softly. “I’ll join you soon.”
He searched her face for a moment longer before finally nodding. “I’ll be right outside.”
She smiled faintly. “That’s fine.”
With that, Liam stepped back, following the principal out of the classroom. The door closed behind them, leaving Lisa standing alone at the front for the first time.
The teacher turned toward the class.
“Good morning,” she said calmly. “I trust everyone had a restful holiday.”
A few students murmured replies. Others simply nodded.
“It was a long break,” the teacher continued. “Long enough that I hope you all took the time to do the reading assignment I gave you before you left.”
Groans rippled through the room.
She raised a brow. “That reaction tells me quite a lot already.”
Her gaze shifted briefly toward Lisa, softening. “I’m glad to see you again,” she added. “And I’m glad you joined this class.”
Sebastian frowned slightly, disbelief still clinging stubbornly to him.
The teacher turned fully toward the students. “Before we begin the term properly, I need to make something clear. Princess Lisa is not an exceptional student because she is royalty. She is exceptional because she is bright, disciplined, and self-taught.”
The room stilled.
“I personally invigilated the assessment she took before the term began,” the teacher continued evenly. “And I can testify that she understands this material better than most of you sitting here.”
Sebastian scoffed quietly under his breath, disbelief flashing across his face.
The teacher caught it immediately.
“Mr. Moore,” she said calmly, “I suggest you keep an open mind.”
Sebastian stiffened but said nothing.
“This morning,” the teacher went on, “we will not be starting new material. Instead, I’m going to give you a short test.”
The class erupted in protest.
She held up a hand. “It will take no more than twenty minutes. It does not count toward your final grade. It is simply to determine whether you read ahead, as instructed.”
She paused, letting her words settle. “This will help me decide whether we move forward with this semester’s syllabus or revisit last term’s material.”
With that, she began passing out the papers.
Lisa accepted hers quietly, her fingers tightening slightly around the edges. Despite everything she had already proven, nerves still flickered in her chest. Old habits were slow to fade.
Sebastian stared at the paper in front of him as though it were written in another language. His jaw clenched as he scanned the questions, frustration rising with every line. He wrote something down, crossed it out, then left the space blank.
Around him, pencils scratched against paper. Time passed.
When the teacher finally called time, she collected the papers, shuffled them thoroughly, then redistributed them so no one received their own.
“We’ll mark these together,” she said. “Be honest.”
She went through each question carefully, explaining the answers as she went. Lisa followed along, her confidence growing with each correct response. The warmth in her chest returned, quiet and steady.
Sebastian felt himself sinking lower with every explanation.
When the marking ended, the teacher collected the papers again and began returning them.
She called out names and grades calmly.
When she reached Lisa, she paused.
“A+,” she said, handing over the paper.
Lisa stood to receive it.
The teacher leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I told you,” she whispered. “You’re much brighter than everyone else. You shouldn’t have been nervous.”
Lisa felt a swell of emotion rise in her chest. She nodded, swallowing hard as she returned to her seat.
Then came Sebastian.
The teacher did not raise her voice when she spoke his name, but the silence in the room made it unnecessary.
“Sebastian Moore.”
He stood slowly, his movements stiff.
She studied his paper before handing it over. “What happened over the holiday?” she asked plainly. “You were never strong academically, but this is worse.”
He said nothing.
“You didn’t answer a single question correctly,” she continued evenly. “If you want to avoid repeating this grade next year, you will need to work much harder.”
The class erupted in muffled laughter.
The teacher raised a hand, silencing them. “And if I were you,” she added, turning back to Sebastian, “I would find a bright student to help you.”
Her gaze flicked toward Lisa. “Perhaps the princess.”
Sebastian’s face burned.
He took the paper and returned to his seat, unable to look at anyone.
Lisa remained still, her expression unreadable.
The lesson moved on, but something fundamental had shifted.
Sebastian Moore, once untouchable, sat exposed and uncertain.
And Lisa Ashvale sat quietly in her place, no longer invisible, no longer doubted - measured at last for who she truly was.