Each grade level was divided into three classes at Grandor Magic Academy.
Although the academy claimed that the class assignments were random in keeping with its motto of equality between noble and commoner, it was an open secret among students that politics always played a part. Children from rival families were often placed in separate classes, while those from allied houses somehow always ended up together. It was hard to believe such patterns were purely coincidental.
And so, after factoring in her family’s factional ties and her father’s influence, Milly was ultimately placed in Class 1-C.
“They put the grand duke’s daughter and the second prince in different classes? What the devil is the academy thinking?” muttered Gilbert, who had apparently been assigned to Class A. The self-proclaimed “villainess” Angelina and the “heroine” Sierra had also been placed in his class. For Milly, who’d hoped to grow closer to Sierra, it was an enviable arrangement.
Still, class assignments were a golden opportunity to make new friends. “Everyone’s nervous at the start of a new term,” Bibi had told Milly.
If she could just be proactive, friends would certainly come flooding in. That, in turn, would help develop her communication skills and bring her one step closer to becoming a manipulative, villainous final boss. Milly excelled at drawing confidence from absolutely nothing.
With this fiery resolve in her heart, she flung open the door to Class C, and the previously cheerful chatter in the room came to an abrupt halt.
That’s odd.
Everyone’s expressions seemed unusually stiff. Did she have something on her face? She was sure she’d washed up thoroughly that morning.
As she tilted her head in confusion, a breezy voice called out to her. “Oh, good morning, milady.”
It was Lucius Henrieck, the son of the Knight Commander who’d spoken with her at yesterday’s party. He, too, had been assigned to Class C. Something about him still gave off an insufferably glib impression.
“Good morning, Lucius. Tell me, do I have shrimp or the like on my face?”
“Shrimp?”
“Yes. I had seafood soup for breakfast.”
“Um, I don’t think shrimp is something that gets stuck to your face, but... Nope, you’re clean.”
“I see.”
But then why was the room so quiet? She hoped it wasn’t for an unpleasant reason.
“Here you are, milady.” Unconcerned with the strained atmosphere in the classroom, Lucius casually pulled out her chair with an easy motion. “I heard you joined the student council? Prince Gilbert was fretting about it.”
“Yes, well, I’m trying to make friends.”
“That again? Don’t tell me you’re actually serious?”
Serious? Of course she was. Otherwise, she’d be dead in three years. Milly had no choice but to spend those years surrounded by comrades.
“Naturally. Did you know there’s an old term for people who live fulfilling lives? They call them ‘normies.’ I’m going to be one.”
“‘Normies’?”
“That’s right. You’re joining the student council too, aren’t you? If you’ve got the time, you should aim to be a normie with me.”
“I’ll...give it some thought,” he said, though his skeptical expression was utterly at odds with his words.
Still, it’s a good sign that Lucius is joining the student council again, just like he did in the previous timeline.
As she pulled her writing instruments from her bag, Milly considered the situation carefully.
In this rewound world, things didn’t necessarily play out the way they had the first time, and that was troublesome. The major events—Kyle’s execution, Milly’s death—were unlikely to change. But all the little details along the way could easily shift depending on her actions.
For example, it wasn’t unthinkable that Milly’s decision to join the student council might have caused Lucius not to, though that particular worry, thankfully, had proven groundless. At this rate, her memories from before the rewind should still be useful.
Milly, lost in thought, didn’t notice a girl passing behind her. She pushed her chair back without looking, and the backrest struck the blue-haired student, sending her stumbling to the floor with a short cry.
Right after the girl’s hair ornament hit the ground with a sharp clatter, Milly jumped up in alarm. “Oh, sorry! Are you all right?”
“N-No, it’s... I-I should’ve...”
Even if she was aiming to become an evil final boss, Milly couldn’t just ignore something like this. She quickly helped the girl back to her feet, brushing off her uniform. Neither had been injured, luckily, but when the student realized Milly was the one who’d collided with her, her face drained of color. Though Milly was clearly at fault, the girl trembled until Lucius spoke up.
“That’s no good. It’s broken.” In his hand were the remains of the ornament that had fallen to the floor. The bergamot-shaped decoration had split cleanly down the middle, ruined beyond repair. “Her family runs a general store and this ornament is one of their products. A tiara-style piece, quite popular right now. Pricey too, I imagine. Poor thing.”
“Ugh.” Milly cringed.
“Having your pride and joy smashed like that, what a shame. Definitely something you’d expect to be compensated for, don’t you think?”
Tossing out the taunt, Lucius glanced sidelong at the girl, as though testing her reaction.
When Milly hesitantly turned her eyes toward her, the student took a few shallow breaths before finally opening her mouth. “S-S-S...”
“Hm?”
“S-Sorry!”
The girl snatched the broken ornament out of Lucius’s hand and bolted from the classroom, so quickly that a rush of wind trailed in her wake. Milly and Lucius stared blankly after the fleeing figure, then turned to each other.
“Lucius.”
“Yes?”
“Do I really look that scary? Enough to make someone run away?”
She’d thought she had at least a passable amount of charm for dealing with people in public.
Lucius answered with surprising seriousness, “Not scary, no.”
“I see.”
“But to be frank, I do think you could be murdered at any time.”
That was far too frank. Milly drove an elbow into Lucius’s ribs.
“Ow!”
As he doubled over in pain, Milly let out a quiet sigh. She had thought the start of term would be the perfect time to gather friends by the handful, but reality was proving far harsher. She would have to reconsider her strategy.