Celine and Lucian had to split, despite having the same destination. She arrived before him, while he had to make a few stops on the way.
Lucian had to pull some strings to get a new position in the academy, a teacher for the elite in particular.
A guest lecturer for freshmen as an occasional attraction was fine, but not enough to remain long within the academy's walls.
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The classroom doors were already closed when Lucian arrived, and he pushed them open with a loud bang.
Lucian avoided the falling chalk dust, "..." and made his way to the teacher's desk, placing the papers he had prepared for his first class.
"No education background, no teaching license..." Celine listed on her fingers, slowly approaching the teacher's desk, "On what criteria did you become a teacher?"
"Your Ladyship..." Lucian's eye twitched when she began to question his classification as a teacher in front of the whole class. "Please take your seat and refrain from causing further trouble."
Using Ladyship honorific was meant to show that he was aware of her position, and didn't want to cross any boundaries.
She slammed her hands on the table, doing the opposite of his request, her beautiful face twisted in a mocking smile.
"This is the royal academy, where the best of the best gather to learn from the best. So, how did a lowly merchant with no qualifications end up here?"
"Your Ladyship, if you have concerns about my teaching, you are free to lodge a formal complaint with the Headmaster," Lucian replied respectfully, preparing his papers for the lesson, the blackboard behind him.
The room went silent when she grabbed his papers, crumpled them up, and threw them down on the floor.
"Here is my complaint. I don't want you here," she said, her tone full of entitlement, as if she was the one in charge of the Academy. "Get lost."
It was scary how many joined her side in a blink of an eye, all looking at Lucian with disdain.
The Crown Prince wasn't present to witness Celine's tyranny, and that allowed her and the rest to be more brazen, and openly hostile.
"I second Lady Celine's request."
"Me too. He's not qualified."
"A fraud shouldn't be teaching us."
Many voices rose in agreement, making it clear that he didn't belong, that he was an intruder in their world.
Celine returned to her seat, waiting for the outcome. She just chose him as her new target to pick on. It would be strange if she didn't. She was well known for her spiteful behavior toward those society considered inferior.
Lucian picked up the papers from the floor, straightening them out as much as he could, "Let's get to the lesson, shall we?"
He didn't leave, nor did he back down. He turned to the blackboard and started writing the topic for the day, "The Art of Negotiation."
The sound of chalk on the board filled the room. The students were too curious about the topic to protest, except for the young lady who didn't need his lessons, and didn't want him to share his knowledge with others.
Thud. A crumbled paper flew and hit the board, followed by the Lady's laughter, who thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Quite annoying, must have she looked to anyone witnessing it.
Her position, her bloodline, and her power, all of it made her untouchable. That's what she "believed", and that's what she wanted everyone to believe.
Lucian was supposed to beg for forgiveness, and run with his tail between his legs, filling her with the sense of victory and superiority she "craved".
But he didn't, and that "angered" her.
Lucian turned around, another paper falling to the ground, rolling to his feet. He picked it up, uncrumpled it, and read the word written on it.
Love you, xoxo.
Another piece of paper flew. He caught it mid-air and read it.
Die.
Another one.
Die.
And another.
If you love me, make me sit close to you.
"Your Ladyship," Lucian faced the board, his right eye twitched again, "Your attempts to get my attention are becoming childish. You can take a seat close to me, if you want to learn more. The chair is waiting for you."
A few students sucked in a breath, as if Lucian had committed a grave sin, daring to assume Celine wanted his attention.
It was hard to bully a man who refused to play your game, as they were finding out.
Lucian's public persona remained unshakable, a friendly gentleman, who wasn't afraid to tease death in the face.
Celine's chair moved, creating a loud scraping sound that made everyone wince.
She walked toward the front of the class and took a seat behind the teacher's desk, her legs crossed.
The view of the dreamy expressions on a few female students' faces turned to awkward eye avoidances.
"How low standards have fallen, to fawn over a commoner," Celine mocked the air.
A couple of ladies blushed, looking down at their desks, embarrassed, as if they had been caught committing a crime.
Lucian began his lecture, ignoring the presence of Celine behind him, "Negotiation is an art of reaching an agreement that benefits both parties involved. Let's start with an example..."
He turned his head slightly, "Lady Rochefort, could you tell me what you want to achieve by kicking me out of this class?"
Celine was caught off guard by the sudden question, but she quickly recovered. "I want you gone."
"And what do you think I want? In exchange for leaving?" Lucian asked, his voice smooth.
"I don't care."
"This, right here, is a failed negotiation," he held back a laugh, turning back to the class. "And failed negotiations lead to...?"
"War!" a student shouted, eager to answer.
Lucian went to Celine's side as if ready to start a war with her, leaning on the teacher desk with his hands. "Is that what you want, Your Ladyship? To go to war with me?"
"The Rocheforts don't go to war with street rats," she grabbed a pencil and pierced his hand with it, poking in the middle of his palm, "We exterminate them."
"Ugh!" Lucian retracted his hand and stepped away from her.
The students' eyes widened in shock.
Celine wasn't done yet, she rose from her seat, "Who will join me to put an end to this farce? Let's teach this lowly commoner his place."
A few nobles rose to their feet like sheep following their shepherd, ready to follow her lead and beat the commoner, who refused to know his place, into a pulp.