Chapter 24

The following morning, Adrelo woke up to a stream of golden sunlight pouring through the curtains. For a brief moment, he enjoyed the quiet, peaceful stillness of his room before Milo’s antics from the previous night resurfaced in his mind. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Why me?” he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed.

As he made his way down to breakfast, the halls buzzed with chatter. Apparently, word of the previous night’s “performance” had spread thanks to Milo’s overactive imagination. Several students glanced his way, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“I heard he sang something that made Milo cry.”

“Really? Milo? That guy who never shuts up?”

“Do you think he’ll sing at the next gathering?”

Adrelo quickened his pace, eager to escape the rumors before they gained more traction. He slid into the dining hall, where Elias was already seated, gracefully picking at a plate of fruit. Next to him, Gareth nursed a cup of coffee, looking as though he’d barely slept.

“Morning,” Adrelo muttered, taking a seat.

Elias looked up and smiled warmly. “Good morning, Adrelo. You look… refreshed.”

“Do I?” Adrelo asked, his tone flat.

The dining hall was abuzz with morning chatter as Adrelo slid into his seat across from Elias. He kept his head low, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention. Unfortunately, that hope evaporated the moment Milo barged in, his energy overwhelming the tranquil atmosphere.

“There he is!” Milo’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of several nearby students.

“Our Lyceum’s hidden bard, Adrelo Dierre!”

Adrelo groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Milo, for the love of the gods…”

Elias looked up from his plate, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Adrelo? What’s this about?”

Milo practically skipped over to the table, dramatically flopping into the seat next to Elias.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it, Elias!” Milo leaned in conspiratorially, though his voice was loud enough for half the dining hall to hear.

“Last night, your dear friend Adrelo serenaded the stars with a voice so ethereal, it brought me to tears!”

Elias blinked, clearly startled.

“Adrelo? Singing?”

Adrelo glared at Milo.

“Stop exaggerating.”

“Exaggerating? Me?” Milo placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

“Elias, you should have been there. His voice was like a gentle stream flowing under the moonlight, like the lull of a thousand harps…”

Adrelo rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

Elias tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I didn’t know you could sing, Adrelo.”

“That’s because I don’t,” Adrelo replied quickly.

“Oh, but he does!” Milo interrupted, leaning closer to Elias.

“And it’s not just singing. His tone, his control, his raw emotion—it was like watching a phoenix rise from the ashes! Honestly, Elias, I’m surprised you didn’t sense it. Aren’t you supposed to have the best ears in the Lyceum?”

Elias looked slightly taken aback, his cheeks faintly coloring.

“I… I suppose I’ve never heard him sing before.”

“And that,” Milo said smugly, “is a tragedy. A true tragedy!”

Adrelo shot Milo a withering look.

“Will you stop? It was one song. One.”

“Ah, but what a song it was,” Milo countered, sighing dramatically.

“I almost feel bad for you, Elias. You might finally have competition for the title of the Lyceum’s most angelic voice.”

Elias blinked, looking genuinely confused. “Competition?”

Milo nodded fervently.

“Oh, absolutely. Don’t get me wrong, your voice is divine—truly—but Adrelo’s? It’s got this raw, untamed beauty. It’s like comparing a perfectly polished gemstone to a rare, uncut diamond.”

Adrelo groaned. “Milo, stop talking.”

“But what a song!” Milo exclaimed, throwing his arms up dramatically.

“The raw emotion, the passion—”

Gareth slammed his cup onto the table.

“Milo, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to throw you out the window.”

Milo pouted but quieted down, though he continued to glance at Adrelo with sparkling eyes full of admiration.

Elias chuckled softly, clearly amused by Milo’s theatrics.

“I’d like to hear it for myself someday.”

“Absolutely not,” Adrelo said, crossing his arms.

“But why not?” Milo asked, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous grin.

“You’re already a legend in my eyes. Why not share your gift with the rest of the Lyceum?”

“Because I don’t want to,” Adrelo snapped, his tone sharper than he intended.

Elias raised a calming hand.

“It’s okay, Milo. If Adrelo doesn’t want to sing, we should respect that.”

Milo pouted but nodded reluctantly. Still, he couldn’t resist throwing one last barb.

“Fine, but don’t come crying to me when Adrelo’s voice outshines yours one day, Elias.”

Elias smiled, unfazed. “I’m sure if that happens, I’ll be happy for him.”

Milo frowned, clearly dissatisfied with Elias’s lack of jealousy. Adrelo, however, seized the opportunity to change the subject.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

Elias nodded, his expression kind.

“Of course. How about the upcoming alchemy test? Have you studied for it?”

Adrelo exhaled in relief, grateful for the distraction. Milo, on the other hand, crossed his arms and sulked, clearly determined to revisit the topic of Adrelo’s singing at the first opportunity.

Despite the shift in conversation, Elias occasionally glanced at Adrelo, curiosity flickering in his gaze. Though he didn’t say it aloud, the idea of Adrelo possessing such a hidden talent intrigued him.

Meanwhile, Milo sat quietly, plotting how to get Adrelo to perform again—this time with Elias in the audience.

****

Later That Day

Adrelo found himself in the Lyceum’s grand library, a place he often escaped to when he needed a break from the chaos of dorm life. The towering shelves, filled with ancient tomes and magical texts, provided a comforting sense of order.

He was deep into a book on elemental magic when he heard footsteps approaching. Glancing up, he saw Gareth standing there, his usual scowl firmly in place.

“What now?” Adrelo asked, closing his book.

Gareth crossed his arms, leaning against the nearest shelf.

“I just wanted to see if the rumors were true.”

“What rumors?”

“That you’re some kind of secret singing prodigy,” Gareth said, raising an eyebrow.

“Milo won’t shut up about it.”

Adrelo groaned, leaning back in his chair.

“I swear, if one more person brings that up…”

“So it’s true, then?” Gareth smirked.

“No! It was one song, and Milo’s overreacting, as usual.”

Gareth shrugged.

“If you say so. But if I ever catch you singing, I’m recording it and selling it to the highest bidder.”

Adrelo glared at him.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Before Adrelo could retort, the librarian appeared, shushing them both. Gareth held up his hands in mock surrender and walked away, leaving Adrelo to brood in peace.

As he returned to his book, Adrelo couldn’t help but wonder if his voice really was as special as Milo claimed. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. He had enough to worry about without adding music competitions to the list.

****

The council room was unusually quiet, save for the soft rustling of papers as the fourth prince, Dennielle Azekian Luxein Geovri Breneille, scanned through a report. His golden eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked from line to line, dissecting the information with ease.

For a moment, all seemed serene—until the faint hum of voices outside the chamber broke the stillness.

“…I’m telling you, it’s true! They say his voice could rival Elias Fernhart’s.”

“Adrelo Dierre? The infamous trashy son of the Dierre family?”

“Yes! Can you believe it? Who would’ve thought?”

Dennielle’s quill paused mid-stroke. His gaze shifted toward the door, his ears now keenly attuned to the whispers seeping through the cracks.

“…They’re calling him the lyceum's hummingbird too with the voice of an angel.”

“A voice like that, and he’s been hiding it? Suspicious, don’t you think?”

“Maybe he’s trying to avoid attention. Or maybe he’s plotting something…”

The voices faded as the gossipers moved farther down the corridor, but their words lingered in the prince’s mind.

Snowy Bunny? Ethereal voice?

Setting his quill down, Dennielle leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“So, my little bunny has been hiding talents, has he?”

He tapped his finger on the desk thoughtfully. Adrelo was known to him—of course, he was. Dennielle made it a point to keep tabs on everyone in the academy, particularly those who piqued his interest. The shy, silver-haired boy from the esteemed Dierre family had always been intriguing in his quiet resilience, but this… this was new.

The thought of Adrelo possessing a voice that could rival the Fernhart brothers was almost amusing. Almost.

Dennielle rose from his chair, his robes flowing elegantly as he moved toward the window. From here, he could see the sprawling academy grounds, students milling about in clusters, no doubt sharing more gossip. His gaze instinctively sought out the familiar snowy hair among the crowd, but Adrelo was nowhere to be seen.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Enter,” Dennielle commanded, his voice cool and composed.

A young aide stepped in, bowing respectfully.

“Your Highness, the council awaits your decision on—”

“Later,” Dennielle said dismissively.

“I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

The aide blinked, surprised but too well-trained to question the prince’s priorities. With a quick bow, they exited, leaving Dennielle alone once more.

Ethereal voice, hm? he thought, his smirk returning.

He had no interest in petty gossip, but when it involved someone as enigmatic as Adrelo, it was worth investigating.

“Perhaps it’s time I paid a visit to this little bunny of mine,” Dennielle mused to himself, already plotting his next move.

The thought was both entertaining and… oddly satisfying. After all, uncovering secrets was one of his favorite pastimes.