A brown-haired boy stood by the wall not far away, his posture relaxed but his expression anything but friendly.
His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, and one foot was resting against the wall behind him as though he had been waiting there for a while.
The boy's attire immediately stood out: a sharp black-and-gold academy shirt trimmed with fine threadwork, the unmistakable crest of academy embroidered near the chest.
Every detail of his clothing screamed nobility — from the golden cuff designs to the polished silver badge pinned to his collar.
His face was youthful and handsome, his features sharp enough to be considered striking.
Yet despite that, there was a coldness in his eyes, the kind that could freeze a room on its own. And right now, all that chill was directed straight at Damien.
Their gazes met.
The boy clicked his tongue and hissed softly through his teeth, the sound filled with disdain.
