CHAPTER 49: THE WOMEN’S DORMITORY

It was just accepting a gift, after all. Nothing to make a big deal out of.

That’s what I told myself as I brushed off any lingering awkwardness.

"Whatever," I muttered under my breath, deciding to take it lightly.

Viola’s leg was still injured, so I offered her my arm for support as we made our way into the women’s dormitory. She hesitated at first—maybe embarrassed—but accepted quietly.

I was too busy thinking about how to act natural and not trip over my own feet to notice the curious gazes following us from afar.

---

"...Louis?"

Elena froze in place the moment she spotted him.

From across the courtyard, she could clearly see Louis entering the women’s dormitory with another student—a girl she didn’t recognize.

Before she even realized it, her body reacted on instinct. She ducked behind the corner of a wall, her heart thumping faster than she liked to admit.

’Wait... why am I hiding?’ she thought, baffled at her own reaction.

Cautiously, she peeked her head out again.

But by then, Louis had already disappeared inside.

Elena let out a soft sigh, feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion settle in her chest.

"...Who was that?" she murmured.

The girl with Louis had been walking close beside him—too close.

To anyone watching, they looked like a couple, the way his hand gently steadied her arm and how their steps moved almost in sync.

"Is... is she his girlfriend?" Elena whispered to herself, her brows furrowing slightly.

Of course, the truth was far from that. Louis had only been helping Viola walk because of her injured leg.

But Elena, unaware of the situation, couldn’t help but imagine otherwise.

Just picturing Louis smiling at another girl made her chest tighten in a way she couldn’t explain.

Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly shook her head, trying to suppress the strange flutter in her heart.

"...What am I even thinking?" she muttered, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a sigh.

Still, no matter how hard she tried, that faint, restless feeling refused to fade.

*****

Am I really... allowed to be here?

I had followed Viola without thinking, my feet just moving on their own. But the moment I stepped inside, I felt dozens of sharp, invisible daggers stabbing into my back—no, not daggers. Gazes. Piercing gazes from every direction.

It only took a few seconds for me to realize where I was.

The women’s dormitory.

My body went stiff. Completely stiff. I wasn’t supposed to be here. This place was forbidden territory for male students.

"What’s wrong?"

Viola turned to me, tilting her head slightly. She looked genuinely puzzled, as if she couldn’t understand why I suddenly looked like I’d been caught stealing bread from the cafeteria.

"No, it’s... nothing," I said quickly, trying to act natural. "I was just wondering if it’s really okay for me, a guy, to be here."

"It’s fine," she said calmly, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Other male students come through here sometimes. You’re not the only one, Lord Louis."

Her tone was casual, but I wasn’t convinced. Sure, I did see a few male students wandering around in the distance, but somehow, I doubted any of them were being glared at like this.

Then the whispers started.

"Who’s that guy walking with Lady Viola...?!"

"Stay away from her!"

Oh. That explained it.

They weren’t angry because I was a man in the dormitory. They were angry because I was walking next to her.

I risked a sideways glance at Viola, who was walking beside me—graceful, calm, and completely unaware of the chaos her presence caused. Even with her slight limp, she carried herself like someone born of noble blood.

No wonder people stared.

Objectively speaking, she was beautiful—so beautiful it almost didn’t make sense that she’d ever been engaged to Louis.

Between the Vermoore and Amorin families, there must’ve been some complicated political arrangement behind that engagement. Because no matter how I looked at it, Viola was... out of Louis’s league.

And now here I was, walking beside her, pretending I belonged here—while a crowd of jealous eyes burned holes through me.

’Perfect,’ I thought grimly. ’Just another normal day in my completely ordinary, not-at-all-stressful life.’

"This is my room," Viola said as we stopped in front of an elegant wooden door.

She opened it and gestured for me to come inside.

I stood there for a moment, frozen at the doorway.

...Was it really okay for me to go in?

Technically, Viola and I were engaged. So, in theory, there shouldn’t be any issue with entering my fiancée’s room.

But still—

’I’m planning to run away later.’

That thought lingered in the back of my mind like a guilty whisper. After graduation, I planned to leave everything behind—my family, my title, and, inevitably, Viola.

When that day came, our engagement would naturally be annulled.

Would she be hurt because of that?

’No, that’s unnecessary worrying,’ I told myself firmly.

There were too many problems to deal with now to be thinking about later.

So, I pushed the thought aside and stepped into Viola’s room.

Compared to my own room, which was painfully simple and bare, hers felt... warm. Lived in. Comfortable.

The layout was identical—same walls, same furniture—but the atmosphere couldn’t have been more different.

Books were stacked in neat piles on the desk and floor, their covers worn and corners bent. A faint, pleasant scent of parchment filled the air.

It didn’t look messy to me. If anything, it felt like the kind of space where someone actually lived and thought.

"Would you mind waiting a moment?" she asked.

"Take your time," I said, trying to sound relaxed even though I was still oddly tense.

Viola walked toward her bookshelf, her fingers brushing across the spines of old volumes with surprising gentleness. She really did love books—anyone could tell just by looking at how carefully they were handled.

After a short moment, she turned back to me, holding something with both hands.

"Here it is," she said softly. "I’m not sure if you’ll be satisfied with it, Lord Louis."

I blinked as she extended an old, leather-bound book toward me.

"Thank you," I said, accepting it carefully.

The cover was faded, the title barely legible, but the weight of it... felt significant somehow.