Chapter 2

Sophia's POV

After that final match, I thought George's world would become unreachable again, and I could only continue being the shadow hiding in the darkness.

But things turned out completely different from what I expected.

Since that day, George started coming to the restoration room way too often.

He was the mentor's most prized student, coming almost every day to look up some ancient texts about magical beast core structures.

But I knew those books were right there on the nearby shelf, yet he always liked to walk around to the long table where I was wiping.

"It's a bit dusty here."

His slender fingers tapped lightly on the tabletop, his voice crisp and clear.

I didn't dare look up, afraid I'd reveal those shameful thoughts hidden in my heart.

George's soft laugh came from above: "Am I that scary? Why won't you look at me?"

He was too close, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of fir on him.

My hand gripping the cloth tightened suddenly, and in my panic, my body reacted on instinct.

I used concealment magic to hide myself.

I saw George look surprised for a moment, then shake his head with a smile:

"Running away again?"

I bit my lip and reappeared in the corner, still keeping my head down, fingers twisting the hem of my clothes.

This scene played out several times, and whenever I reappeared, he'd come tease me again.

My emotions were all over the place, because the bullying hadn't stopped despite George's victory.

That day I went to the library to return books. Just as I turned the corner, several familiar figures blocked my way.

It was the girl who led the bullying last time, along with her followers.

"Well, well, if it isn't the little mouse who only knows how to hide?" She laughed mockingly, playing with a wand in her hand. "I heard you've been climbing the social ladder lately? Stop dreaming. Someone like George would never even look at trash like you."

She raised her wand, about to cast a curse at me.

I instinctively tried to cast the Concealment Spell, but found that my magic was chaotic from nervousness.

Just as that red light was about to touch me, a hand with defined knuckles appeared out of nowhere and casually intercepted the curse.

The curse dissolved in his palm.

George stood in front of me, backlit, his expression terrifyingly cold.

He didn't even turn his head, just glanced coldly at the girl: "Get lost."

That look was even more chilling than when he faced the hellhound in the arena.

The girl's face turned pale with fear, and she fled with her group.

"Thank... thank you." I was still shaken, my voice trembling.

George turned around, looked at me, his brows slightly furrowed: "Don't you know how to fight back?"

"I..."

"Come on, I'll walk you back." He interrupted me, naturally walking beside me.

All the way, my mind was full of questions.

Why did he always appear whenever I was in danger?

Was he watching me?

I quickly crushed that thought as soon as it appeared.

How could that be possible?

He was a golden boy, and I was like a little mouse.

He probably just happened to be passing by, or maybe out of a strong person's pity, he helped me.

Days passed like this, between anxiety and secret joy, until the academy ball approached.

The whole academy was buzzing with excitement.

Girls were all discussing dresses, makeup, and how to capture their dream guy's heart that night.

I was preparing too.

In front of the shabby mirror in my dorm, I put on my only colorful dress.

It was bought with money I'd saved for a long time, red velvet, passionate like fire.

I rehearsed my lines over and over in my mind.

"George, the moon is beautiful tonight, would you dance with me?"

No, too cliché.

"George, congratulations on winning the competition. As a reward, can I have the first dance?"

No good either, too presumptuous.

Just as I was struggling in front of the mirror, my face all red, there was a knock at the door.

Thinking it was my roommate, I casually opened the door.

Standing outside wasn't my roommate, but George.

He'd changed out of his battle mage robes and was wearing a well-tailored black tailcoat with a deep red bow tie at the collar. He stood tall and straight, breathtakingly handsome.

My breathing stopped instantly.

His gaze fell on me, and a flash of obvious admiration crossed his usually cool eyes.

"You look good in a dress." He said in a low voice, his eyes lingering on my red dress for a moment.

My face instantly burned up, and I instinctively tried to cover myself: "Thank... thank you, this is my only nice dress."

I regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth—it made me sound so poor.

But George smiled in response: "Mm, it suits you well, like... a flame."

My heart pounded like thunder. I put my hands behind my back, pinching my palms hard, trying to use the pain to stay clear-headed.

"Um... you're getting more and more amazing." After struggling for a while, I could only come up with this useless comment.

George raised an eyebrow, seeming amused by my clumsiness: "Thanks for the compliment. So, is there anything else you want to say to me?"

He took a step forward, closing in on me.

That fir scent instantly surrounded me.

"I..."

I looked into his eyes, those deep pupils reflecting my flustered appearance.

Be brave! Just this once!

I took a deep breath, ready to say the invitation I'd rehearsed countless times.

"Hey, I was wondering why you were taking so long. So you're here."

A cheerful but jarring voice suddenly interrupted.

My whole body stiffened, and the words on my lips were forcefully swallowed back.

At the end of the hallway, a tall guy walked over.

He wore the same style of formal wear as George, with dazzling blonde hair and a brilliant smile.

It was James Bell.

George's best friend, also the academy's genius magician second only to George, and a pure-blood.

James walked up to George and naturally put his arm around his shoulder. When his gaze swept over me, his face showed a surprised expression.

"So this is that little coward?"

I froze: "What coward?"

James looked like he'd heard a joke. He turned to look at George, then back at me, a playful smile on his lips: "George didn't tell you? We've actually met before."

I looked at George in confusion, explaining softly: "I haven't met your friend..."

George hadn't said anything, just quietly watching me, the emotions in his eyes dark and unclear.

James suddenly laughed out loud, his laughter carrying a kind of scrutiny and contempt that made me very uncomfortable.

He leaned on George, pointing at me and saying to George: "You really did keep in touch with this coward? I thought you were just messing with her that day in the arena. I didn't expect you'd actually keep her around."

Hearing "just messing with her," my heart suddenly contracted. I instinctively trembled, my fingers ice cold.

George didn't look at me, but turned his head and said to James calmly: "Yeah, I've been in touch with her. I didn't expect she'd be here waiting for me, like she wants to invite me to dance."

His tone was very calm, so calm it made me panic.

James looked me up and down, his gaze landing on my red dress that I was so proud of. The smile on his lips deepened, but also grew colder.

"Little coward, you want George's first dance?"

James's voice wasn't loud, but it felt like a slap across my face: "You're really bold."

Then he turned to George and teased: "Nice one, you're getting better at messing with people. These dance invitations come with bets, you know. The loser has to embarrass themselves in front of everyone. You're not really planning to take her there to embarrass herself, are you?"

Messing with? Embarrass? Bets?

These words were like knives stabbing into my ears.

I forced a smile and looked at them, asking: "What do you mean?"