CHAPTER 44: TRUE WORDS BENEATH

When they reached Miyu’s door, she hesitated for a fraction of a second before pushing it open. The chamber was bathed in soft lamplight, warm and faintly perfumed, with every polished surface gleaming just so.

Eran stepped in after her, his gaze sweeping the room, slow, deliberate... before he let a low chuckle escape.

"Well," he said, tone laced with quiet amusement as he leaned slightly against the nearest table, "this chamber really does speak of the noble you are."

Miyu froze, her face going crimson almost instantly. "I... It’s just how we keep our chambers," she said quickly, turning away as if the shelves suddenly demanded her attention.

Eran smirked faintly at her flustered reaction, letting the silence stretch a moment longer before stepping further inside. "You sure?" he teased, his voice calm, and unreadable, the kind that somehow made her blush even hotter.

She dared a glance at him, violet eyes sharp but unsteady, as if she couldn’t decide whether to glare or look away.

Miyu’s fingers lingered on the edge of the table, her back half-turned to him. "You’re mocking me," she said finally, her voice quieter now, carrying the faintest edge.

Eran’s smirk didn’t falter. He stepped closer, slow enough that she heard every step, until he was near enough to see the heat still climbing her neck.

"If I were mocking you," he said, low and smooth, "you’d know. This is me appreciating what I see."

That made her head snap toward him, and the look in her eyes wasn’t quite anger anymore. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

The silence between them thickened, not heavy but warm, until Miyu finally turned fully, facing him. Her voice was softer when she spoke next.

"I asked you here," she said, her gaze darting briefly to the floor before finding his again, "because I... wanted you to hear it from me. About the parchment. About the council’s orders."

Eran didn’t move, just watched her with that unreadable calm that always seemed to unnerve her.

"You could’ve told me back in the hall," he said after a pause.

Miyu’s chin lifted slightly, pride flickering in her expression. "I wanted to tell you here. Alone."

Eran’s faint smile lingered as he leaned lightly against the edge of her desk, pausing for a moment as if weighing his words.

She drew a slow breath, steadying herself, before stepping closer so that only a little space separated them.

"To be sure..." he said finally, his voice quiet but with an edge that made her glance up sharply. "Why do you wish to tell a commoner like me, Miyu?"

Her breath caught. A flush climbed her cheeks before she could stop it. She stood straighter, almost as though her pride might shield her from the question, but her lips parted anyway

And this time the words didn’t stumble, they rushed out.

"E...Eran," she said, her voice came out softer but urgent, "the MIARCH DAY isn’t just a casual training day, or some silly duel to catch on. It involves every school district, every hierarchy... the best of the best, each grade coming together for the fiercest rival, a fight for their pride.

Her breath shivered on the end of the sentence, and then she exhaled slowly, forcing herself calm. Her eyes, now steady, locked with his.

"I already saw it, Eran," she said, her voice quiet but cutting through the still air. "You hide something. But if my instincts are right... you might actually draw eyes. And some of those eyes," she hesitated, "The ones who would never accept a commoner rising above them. You’d stand against their pride, Eran... against the entire order. And that won’t just put you in danger."

Her fingers pressed lightly into his arm, as though to make him feel the weight of her words.

"It will bring you a threat. And once they notice you, they won’t stop until you’re put back where they think you belong... or erased amidst the very ground you stand on."

Her eyes fluttered, glassy under the bright light, but she didn’t look away waiting, almost daring him to laugh it off.

For a long moment, Eran didn’t answer. His smile had faded into something far more unreadable, and the silence stretched between them until it felt like the walls of her chamber were leaning in to listen.

Miyu’s breath hitched, her hand still resting lightly against his arm, her violet eyes glassy, searching his face for something.. a sign, an answer, a promise.

Eran’s gaze softened, warm against hers, but deep inside his thoughts turned cold and calculating.

She might be right.

The memory of earlier clawed its way back, unbidden: the sound of boots on polished stone, the moment the so-called Daiven— Huh —Ragna, had stepped forward, calm and collected, too calm. And then that instant, just a flicker, when their gazes had locked across the hall and the mask had slipped just enough for Eran to see what lurked beneath.

Grade A noble to be precise.

Disguising himself as a Grade C student.

His system had confirmed it earlier, whispering the truth to him alone, but even now there were info missing; gaps, veiled details, and hidden threads he hadn’t yet pulled.

"If a Grade A from the Central House could hide right under the chamber’s nose, wearing a calm façade enough to fool even the Dire of the Grade C chamber, then what else was hidden in this so-called hierarchy?. He thought.

What other secrets lurked behind these walls, waiting for the perfect moment to be turned against him?"

And worse, a Grade A noble... with a dark system.

The thought lingered, sharp and cold.

He knew he needed to be careful. No — careful wouldn’t be enough.

To be precise.

He needed steps, layers, and contingencies. yes, but also control, enough to stand above every noble who would dare to challenge him, and enough to shatter anyone who thought to drag him back down.

Only then did his expression shift, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips... not quite teasing, not quite warm, something in between. A mask of his own.

His gaze didn’t leave hers. If anything, it pinned her in place, holding her there with an intensity that made her breath falter.

Miyu’s lips parted slightly, her face flushing deeper. The tension in the air seemed to thicken, and for a moment it felt as if there was no one else in the world, no chamber, no hierarchy, no looming ’ MIARCH DAY ’ only the two of them standing too close, breathing the same air.