The news about her roommate's true identity stunned Rose more than the ball hitting her head.
Judging by Zeke's enthusiastic account, the story of Dylan Arkwright had caused the effect of a bombshell exploding in the quiet backwater of Arden Academy this year.
The first commoner in the entire history of the academy.
That in itself was an event worthy of a separate chapter in the institution's chronicles.
But the main thing was — he hadn't been admitted through connections or money, but thanks to his outstanding magical talent.
Dylan had passed the entrance exams with maximum scores, surpassing all the aristocratic offspring who had been preparing for admission with tutors almost from the cradle.
And he was a mage.
A commoner mage.
In the Cordron Empire, magic was considered a gift of the chosen. It was passed down through inheritance in old aristocratic families, carefully cultivated and guarded as the greatest treasure. Commoners born with magical talent were so rare that each such case became a sensation.
And Dylan wasn't just any mage. He was an extra-class mage.
He was enrolled in the magic class — the elite of the elite of Arden Academy.
To understand how prestigious this was, it's enough to know one number: only thirty people studied in the magic class.
Thirty out of seven hundred academy students.
These thirty were considered the future elite of the Empire. Those who would shape destinies, create artifacts, defend borders, manage magical energy.
And among them — a commoner.
Rose listened to this and felt something click in her head.
She studied in an ordinary, "theoretical" class. That was the majority. Here they taught history, etiquette, the basics of magical engineering (purely theory), languages, and other "useful for an aristocrat" subjects.
While the students of the magic class, at that very moment, were perhaps creating real magical artifacts. Summoning the elements. Researching ancient spells.
The difference was colossal.
And her roommate, that silent, cold guy, was one of those thirty chosen ones.
"...So, I've told you what an unusual guy he is," Zeke finished. "A genius born once in a hundred years. But there's something else."
"What?" Rose was surprised. "Isn't that all?"
"Not exactly," Zeke lowered his voice. "You see, this Dylan has kept to himself from the very first day. Doesn't socialize with anyone at all. Many have tried to befriend him, talk to him, invite him somewhere — useless. He just ignores everyone. That's why I was so surprised when he brought you the book."
Rose froze.
"Really? He really doesn't talk to anyone?"
"Absolutely. There are rumors that over the entire year, he hasn't spoken a word to anyone except about studies."
Rose thought about it.
So, he wasn't just ignoring her. He was ignoring everyone.
Why?
What had made this guy build such a high wall between himself and others?
There were no answers.
But Rose felt she needed to find out.
***
After classes, she returned to the dormitory early and sat down to wait.
Dylan came, as usual, a little later. When he opened the door and entered, his grey eyes met Rose's violet ones, which were staring directly at him.
Dylan paused for a moment, then slowly closed the door and walked over to his bed.
"Did something happen?" he asked in his usual indifferent tone.
Rose hesitated, then decided:
"I wanted to ask something."
"Ask."
"Are you..." she stumbled. "Are you really a commoner?"
Dylan stopped and looked at her.
Something flickered in his grey eyes — surprise? Wariness? — but his face remained impassive.
"Yes," he replied briefly. "That's right."
Rose exhaled.
"I see..."
She didn't know how to continue the conversation and simply fell silent.
But unexpectedly, Dylan asked himself:
"Why do you ask?"
"I... just heard rumors about you."
"Rumors?"
"They say you're the academy's genius. The best student."
Dylan was silent for a few seconds.
And then he suddenly smirked. Not in a good way, grimly.
"Genius?" he repeated. "People really call me a genius? How amusing... And yet I'm just trying to survive in this damn academy."
"What?" Rose was confused.
"You know," Dylan continued calmly, "if I don't get maximum scores in all subjects every semester, I'll lose my scholarship. And get kicked out. I simply have no choice but to be the best."
"..."
"I wasn't lucky enough to be born into a rich family," there was no bitterness in his voice, just a statement of fact. "So I have to work twice, three times as hard as everyone else. That's all my 'genius' is."
Rose listened and felt something tighten in her chest.
He spoke so calmly. So matter-of-factly. As if it were normal — at such a young age, to carry such a burden of responsibility on one's shoulders.
"Do you enjoy studying here?" she suddenly asked.
Dylan looked at her in surprise.
"Even despite all the difficulties... do you still enjoy it?"
He thought about it.
And suddenly, for the first time since they'd known each other, Rose saw his impassive face change. An expression appeared on it... of weariness? Sadness?
"It's not that I enjoy it," he said quietly. "I just have no choice."
"What do you mean?"
Dylan was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
"I was born in a small village in the south," he began. "I have six brothers and sisters. Six people who need to be fed. My father died a few years ago — an accident at logging. My mother took to her bed after that. A serious illness, expensive medicine. I was left the only one who could work."
Rose held her breath.
"I didn't want to come to this academy," Dylan continued. "I wanted to stay home, work, help the family. But my mother insisted. She said I had a magical gift and such a chance couldn't be missed. That if I succeeded, I could pull the family out of poverty."
He smiled bitterly.
"So here I am. Every day, every minute, I think about how not to fail the exams, because if I get kicked out — there'll be nothing to go home with. And my mother will die. And my brothers and sisters will starve to death."
Rose listened and felt tears welling up in her eyes.
This story... it was so heavy. So unfair.
This guy, who had seemed cold and arrogant to her, was actually carrying a burden on his shoulders that would break any grown man.
"Why don't you talk to anyone?" she asked quietly. "Wouldn't it be useful for you, as a commoner, to make connections among aristocrats?"
Dylan looked at her with surprise.
"Connections?" he repeated. "Do you seriously think those snobs would associate with me?"
"But..."
"I know what they say about me when I walk by," he interrupted. " 'Upstart,' 'lucky commoner,' 'country bumpkin trying to act equal to the nobles.' They whisper behind my back, laugh, scheme. Some have even tried to set me up during exams."
He clenched his fists.
"I don't want to humiliate myself before them. I don't want to beg for friendship or patronage. If I succeed, it will be on my own. And if not... then that's my fate."
Rose was silent.
She looked at him and saw not the cold, haughty type he had seemed before. She saw a boy desperately fighting for his own life and the lives of his family. Who was surrounded by enemies and forced every day to prove his right to be here.
And suddenly she understood.
They were alike.
He — the only commoner in an academy of aristocrats.
She — the only girl who had infiltrated a men's academy.
Both — strangers among their own.
Both forced to hide, pretend, and fight every day.
And both were also terribly lonely.
Rose took a deep breath.
"I understand you," she said quietly.
Dylan looked up at her, surprised.
"What?"
"I understand what it's like to feel like a stranger," Rose continued.
Dylan looked at her, and for the first time, something resembling interest appeared in his grey eyes.
"How would you know?" he asked. "You're an aristocrat. You have a family, a name, a position."
Rose smiled bitterly.
"If only you knew..." she whispered.
But out loud, she said something else:
"Never mind. It's just... I want to support you. Thank you for opening up to me today."
She smiled. Warmly, sincerely, encouragingly.
Dylan froze.
For a while, the guy didn't take his eyes off her violet eyes, which were now slightly moist and sparkled as beautifully as precious gems.
Silence hung in the room.
And no one could even guess what thoughts were running through his mind at that moment...