That night, the grand hall of the Royal Magic Academy was bathed in crystal light and the laughter of young nobles. A graduation ceremony, a sweet ending for those about to step into a glorious future. Lavish gowns shimmered under the chandeliers, music drifted through the air, and wine flowed without end.
At the top of the great marble staircase, the one that split into two wings leading up to the balcony above, a prince stood tall in his academy uniform emblazoned with the royal crest. His face was handsome, yet cold. Beside him, slightly behind, a brown-haired girl in a plain dress stood with her head gently lowered.
The crystal lamps on the ceiling cast their light toward the pair, turning them into the center of every gaze in the hall.
And from that very spot, the prince's voice rang out.
"I, Prince Leonhart von Asteria, hereby annul my engagement."
The entire hall froze.
At the foot of the staircase, a noblewoman with silver hair stood motionless. Her face had gone pale.
Veralyn Silvercrown.
Her long silver hair gleamed under the crystal light, while a pale blue noble gown framed her figure with quiet elegance. She was known as one of the strongest and most brilliant students at the academy, a master of advanced magical theory, possessing talent that even the professors acknowledged.
Yet because she had always been so consumed by study and training, she rarely laughed or chatted with the other noblewomen. Her serious and reserved nature earned her a reputation as a cold woman, difficult to approach.
Normally, she was surrounded by respectful gazes and careful distance.
But tonight, all of that crumbled.
Veralyn simply stood there, her fingers slowly curling into fists, as though trying to hold back something that was roaring inside her chest.
"From this moment forward," the prince continued, his voice clear and unwavering, "I no longer have any relationship with Veralyn Silvercrown. I will be engaged to Alicia."
The girl behind the prince, Alicia, lowered her head slightly. Her brown hair fell loosely around her shoulders, and her face appeared fragile in the eyes of the onlookers. Some nobles began to whisper. A few showed expressions of disgust, while others looked confused, wondering since when she had become so close to the prince.
Veralyn opened her mouth. Her voice came out with an unusual tremor.
"What... do you mean, Your Highness?"
The prince's gaze turned cold.
"You have been bullying Alicia. Insulting her, pressuring her, even hurting her mentally. I never thought a woman like you would do such things."
Veralyn froze.
Bullying?
She looked at Alicia, then back at the prince. "I never..." her breath caught, "I only told her to keep her distance. Because you were my fiance."
"Excuses," the prince cut in without hesitation. "Alicia has suffered long enough because of you."
Those words made no sense.
Veralyn's mind went blank. Her memories spun. She had warned Alicia, yes. She had told her to know her place. But bully her? Hurt her? Veralyn had never done any of that.
Confusion turned into a tightness in her chest.
And then, Veralyn saw something.
Behind the prince's shoulder, Alicia lifted her face slightly. Their eyes met for just a moment, and on the girl's lips was a faint smile. Not the kind of smile she usually wore. Not the fragile, gentle expression she had shown to everyone around her.
A smile of victory.
Veralyn's chest shook violently.
Without realizing it, the mana around her began to surge.
"I... never... did..." her voice broke.
A small flame ignited in her palm. Reflexive. Anger, confusion, and betrayal merged into a single burst of emotion, and the fire shot forward.
Yet behind that brief flash of red, Veralyn's thoughts turned slow.
Since childhood, she had never lived in true luxury. Despite bearing a noble family name, the blood of a maid still ran through her veins, enough to keep her constantly aware of her place. That was why Veralyn studied. She never stopped studying.
She memorized magical theory until late at night, pushed her body through training until her mana was completely drained. She studied the kingdom's history, noble law, and territorial governance. All for one simple purpose.
To become a strong woman. To become a worthy queen.
Prince Leonhart had been her reason to endure. When she was first chosen and asked to be his fiancee, Veralyn could barely comprehend what was happening. A prince who knew her origins had taken her hand. She thought it was acceptance. She thought she had finally met someone who would see her for who she truly was.
She admired him. Then, without realizing it, she fell in love.
But now, that prince stood at the top of the staircase with another girl, and Veralyn stood below, alone.
Why that girl? A commoner who had only recently appeared at the academy. Someone who stood behind the prince, receiving everything without ever having to fight the way she had.
The fire in the air felt hot, but the pain in Veralyn's chest burned far deeper.
"If that is the case..." she thought, "then everything I have done all this time... what was it for?"
The spark of flame died as quickly as it had appeared. The prince's barrier swallowed it without a trace.
But the damage was already done. Not to anyone in that hall, but to Veralyn's own fate.
"A deliberate attack," the prince said softly, yet his words carried clearly across the room. "Against my fiancee and the future princess of this kingdom."
Veralyn opened her mouth.
But no words came out.
"Veralyn Silvercrown," he continued, devoid of emotion, "for your crimes, I sentence you to death."
His voice echoed like the fall of a judge's hammer.
The crystal lamps continued to shine. The music remained silent. And in the center of that grand hall, Veralyn finally understood one thing.
Everything was over.