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“I’M telling you, it was definitely underwear!”
The boys’ dormitory received quite a shock one early summer morning. After going out running that morning, one boy raced back, mopping up the sweat on his own face with his t-shirt and blushing like crazy as he reported the news.
“It was hanging from one of the trees further back. Since it was close to the girls’ dorm, I’ll bet it was one of theirs. Probably fell after they hung it out to dry.”
“What color was it?”
“Red!”
People were already gathered in the lounge right outside of Vincent’s bedroom door. It was morning routine for him to finish getting ready and climb down the stairs so he could stop by the study hall before classes. Since it was still too early for most of the other inhabitants to be in uniform, they were still clad in pajamas as they clamored together.
Miguel faithfully accompanied Vincent every morning to the study hall. He groggily tottered along beside Vincent, yawning like a sleepy cat.
“Oh, yeah. Dance lessons were running you ragged, so you started running every morning, right?”
“Yep, and thanks to today, I’ve never been more glad I decided to do that.”
“What kind of fabric was it made out of?”
“You seriously think I could see it that well? It was on top of a tree!”
“Then climb it, dummy!”
“Which is why I came back here to search for a ladder, duh!”
Vincent furrowed his brows as he listened in on the conversation. He passed right beside the boys who were deeply invested in the topic, their faces lit up.
“I’m pretty sure the dorm should have a ladder, so I came to grab one.”
“What about asking a janitor?”
“I tried to stop by their office, but no one was there.”
The janitor is missing? And they’re looking for a ladder? Vincent faintly recalled overhearing this same conversation before.
Bang, bang, bang.
Someone was rapping on the door. A sudden silence fell over the boys who’d been gushing about girls’ underwear. Since Vincent was closest to the door, he cracked it open. Much to his surprise, standing on the other side was a completely makeup-less Oriana, her robe barely hiding the casual loungewear she wore beneath.
“Oh, um…Vincent. Is…is Azraq here?” Oriana asked, flattening her hands over unkempt hair, which probably hadn’t seen a brush yet since she must’ve just woken up and rushed here.
“Huh?”
“Why’s a girl here?”
“Wait, don’t tell me those underwear belong to—”
Ba-thunk!
Vincent slammed the door shut after stepping outside. His actions must have stunned the other boys, since the other side went completely silent. Oriana’s eyes went round with surprise, but he ignored her expression, instead slipping off his own robe to drape over her head.
“What were you thinking, coming all the way here when your hair is still a mess?”
“Can we save the lecture on proper manners for later? Please, I mean it. I need help.”
It was never an issue of manners to begin with. True, there were some hardheaded aristocrats that believed it shameful to allow anyone to see their hair before they had brushed it that morning, but that wasn’t Vincent’s motive; Oriana was always perfectly groomed from her hair to her makeup. Without it, she looked innocent yet provocative enough that he didn’t want anyone else to glimpse her.
“Please,” Oriana said again. “Azraq is the only person I can rely on—”
“You have me right here,” Vincent insisted.
“No, impossible. I can’t ask you.”
What do you mean “impossible”? Vincent wondered bitterly. Judging by how panic-stricken she was, the boys’ guess was probably right on the money about the underwear belonging to her.
It was plenty irritating that they had realized who the true owner of the underwear was, but it only peeved him more that they had also gotten a glimpse of Oriana looking like this. On top of that, she insisted on relying upon Azraq, despite him not even being here. All of it got under his skin.
The more impossible thing is letting any other man see you like this or your underwear.
“I’m your friend, aren’t I?” said Vincent.
“Yes, well, there are some things that are impossible even if you’re friends!”
“Oh? Well then, why are you okay with Zalena?”
“Well, Azraq is…”
“Yeah?”
“Harmless…is really all I can…”
Ridiculous. She can’t honestly expect me to accept such a lame excuse.
Vincent grabbed Oriana by the shoulders and spun her around so her back was facing the dormitory door. He then peeked back inside the building. None of the boys had moved an inch. Despite how enthusiastic they’d been about the underwear topic moments ago, all of their faces had now gone pale, and they were staring straight at him.
Vincent squared his shoulders, voice booming through the halls as he asserted, “You men, like me, are students of the highly reputable Lagen Magic Academy. As such, I expect you to maintain a proud, gentlemanly demeanor.”
“Yes, sir.”
Everyone present stood up straight and voiced their agreement.
Vincent nudged the door shut and turned back toward Oriana. “Let’s go.”
“Huh?! But aren’t you going to call Azraq for me?!”
As if I would ever do that. He continued walking, ignoring her demands.
“Now,” Vincent said, “where did they fly off to?”
“Huh? How do you know…” The color drained from Oriana’s face. Finally, she seemed to realize the reason for his recent words and actions. Her cheeks gradually lit up. “This can’t be happening. I can’t do this.”
“It is happening, and you can do this. You said yourself before that I have no interest in girls’ underwear.” He said that partly as a jab at her, since when the topic arose before, she made it plain that she didn’t see him as a man at all on top of treating him like some kind of saint.
“Th-That was so long ago! B-Besides, I mean…”
“Enough. No excuses,” Vincent insisted.
“But this is seriously embarrassing!”
“I understand that, which is why I will be the one to carry and hold the ladder while you climb up to retrieve your clothing. Now, where exactly did it fly off to?”
Fighting down her embarrassment, Oriana managed to mumble out the location.
“In that case, it would be faster to stop by the conservatory’s storehouse rather than search for a janitor,” said Vincent.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot you have a key.”
“I do. Now, let’s go.” Vincent quickened his pace.
Reluctantly, Oriana trailed after him, Vincent’s robe still draped over her head.