Chapter 58: a familiar sight I

Chapter 58: Chapter 58: a familiar sight I

Monday mornings at St. Albion University rarely began quietly.

Especially not for Damian Blackwood.

By the time he stepped into Millward Hall, students were already moving between lecture rooms, conversations echoing beneath the high stone arches.

"Good morning, Lord Blackwood."

"Morning."

"Lord Blackwood, are you attending Professor Walter’s seminar this afternoon?"

"I’ll be there."

"Thank you."

He acknowledged every greeting with the same effortless courtesy.

Never distant.

Never overly familiar.

Simply enough to make each student feel seen before continuing on his way.

Popularity had long since become part of his routine.

Not because he sought attention.

If anything...

He barely noticed it anymore.

As the heir to House Blackwood, one of the kingdom’s marquessates, people had known his name long before they had ever known him.

"Good morning, Lord Blackwood!"

A pair of second-year ladies approached from the opposite corridor.

One of them slowed, clearly intending to say something.

"Lord Blackwood, I was wondering if..."

She hesitated.

Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

Before she could continue, her friend hurriedly caught her arm.

"We’re sorry for disturbing you."

The two ladies bowed quickly before disappearing down another hallway.

Damian simply inclined his head politely.

When they were gone...

A familiar laugh sounded beside him.

"That’s the third one this morning."

Damian glanced toward the speaker.

Waiting outside the lecture room were his two closest friends.

Julian Spencer.

Tall and athletic, with chestnut-brown hair that never seemed to stay perfectly in place and warm amber eyes that almost always carried a smile.

The Spencer family had built one of the country’s largest financial empires through banking, shipping, and investment.

Julian, however...

Preferred conversations to boardrooms.

Beside him stood Adrian Carlisle.

His black hair was neatly combed as always.

Behind thin silver-rimmed glasses, calm gray eyes quietly observed everything around him.

Unlike Julian’s family, the Carlisles had built their reputation through public service.

His father served as the nation’s Minister of Justice, while generations before him had devoted themselves to law, governance, and the judiciary.

Adrian himself spoke little.

But when he did...

People listened.

Damian smiled.

"I wasn’t counting."

Julian laughed.

"I was."

"And that’s only before first period."

The three entered the classroom together.

Fourth-year Political Governance bore little resemblance to freshman lectures.

Professor Pembroke rarely stood behind the podium for long.

Instead...

He questioned.

Challenged.

Debated.

By the end of ninety minutes...

Even Julian looked mentally exhausted.

"I swear Professor Pembroke enjoys proving us wrong."

"He enjoys making us defend our arguments," Adrian corrected.

"There’s a difference."

"A painful one."

Damian chuckled.

"I thought today’s discussion was interesting."

Julian stared at him.

"Of course you did."

"You were the one winning."

The three stepped out into the corridor with the rest of the class.

Naturally...

The conversation shifted to the topic that seemed to occupy the entire university.

The Founders’ Ball.

Julian folded his arms.

"So."

Damian already knew what was coming.

"The Ball?"

"The Ball."

Julian nodded.

"The entire university is talking about it."

"Mostly about you."

Damian laughed quietly.

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Do you?"

Julian replied.

"You’ve spent the last three years politely declining invitations."

Damian smiled.

"I have."

Julian continued counting on his fingers.

"Last year was Lady Fairmont."

"The year before that..."

"I believe it was Lady Ravenshire."

"And before that..."

Damian looked at him with amused resignation.

"You really have been keeping track."

"I have excellent memory."

Adrian finally looked up from the notes in his hands.

"If he didn’t..."

"You would remind him."

Julian grinned.

"Exactly."

He looked back toward Damian.

"If you keep refusing everyone..."

"People are going to think you’re waiting for a princess."

Without missing a beat, Adrian replied calmly,

"A princess asked him once."

Julian blinked.

"...Right."

"I forgot about that."

Damian couldn’t help laughing.

"I’m not waiting for anyone."

And he meant it.

At least...

That was what he believed.

The warning bell rang.

Students immediately began making their way toward their next lectures.

As Damian turned the corner...

Something caught his attention.

Across the corridor...

A familiar figure stood outside one of the classrooms.

Vivienne.

She glanced through the narrow window in the door.

Waited for a brief moment.

Then quietly continued toward the next room.

Damian watched her for a moment.

Lady Beaumont?

Freshmen occasionally had lectures inside Millward Hall.

There was nothing particularly strange about that.

Still...

Something about the way she paused outside each classroom caught his attention.

"...Damian?"

Julian’s voice pulled him back.

"Hm?"

"You seem distracted."

Damian looked away from the corridor.

"It’s nothing."

Julian merely shrugged.

"If you say so."

The three continued toward their next lecture.

By lunchtime...

Millward Hall had grown considerably quieter.

"Library?"

Julian suggested.

"I need one journal before Professor Pembroke buries us under another research paper."

"I have reading to finish," Adrian added.

Damian nodded.

"I’ll come with you."

The university library welcomed them with its familiar silence.

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, bathing rows of polished wooden tables in warm afternoon light.

Students occupied nearly every seat.

Some revised notes.

Others quietly read beneath towering shelves.

Julian wandered toward the economics section.

Adrian disappeared into the legal reference collection.

Damian made his way toward the Political Governance journals.

Then...

He stopped.

Vivienne.

Again.

She wasn’t reading.

Nor was she carrying a stack of books.

Instead...

She slowly walked through the reading room.

She paused beside one table.

Looked around.

Then quietly continued toward another section.

There it was again.

That tiny, almost imperceptible pout.

The faint disappointment that crossed her face before she quietly composed herself and kept searching.

Damian found himself watching.

Again?

A memory stirred quietly at the edge of his thoughts.

A much younger Vivienne.

No taller than his shoulder.

Walking through the gardens of the Ashford estate.

Opening one door after another.

Looking behind hedges.

Searching every corner because Anthony had disappeared somewhere.

Whenever she couldn’t find him...

She wore exactly the same expression.

The same tiny pout.

The same determined little march before trying somewhere else.

Damian smiled to himself.

...Some things really never change.

Before the thought could settle any further...

The lunch bell echoed softly through the library.

Students immediately began gathering their books.

Vivienne glanced around one last time.

Then quietly left.

Damian watched her disappear between the shelves.

"...Find what you were looking for?"

Julian asked as he reappeared with a journal tucked beneath his arm.

Damian blinked.

"...Not quite."

Julian followed Damian’s gaze toward the aisle Vivienne had just disappeared through.

Then looked back at him.

He didn’t ask another question.

But for the briefest moment...

A thoughtful look crossed his face.