Chapter 25

The morning’s classes passed in a blur for Adrelo, but Milo’s dramatic antics lingered in his mind like a stubborn stain. Milo’s “performance” in retelling last night’s events had spread like wildfire.

Adrelo was just about to grab a seat when Elias appeared beside him, wearing an uncharacteristically determined expression.

“Adrelo,” Elias said, his tone calm but firm.

Adrelo sighed. “Yes?”

“Is it true?” Elias asked, his eyes locking with Adrelo’s.

“Is what true?” Adrelo replied, feigning ignorance.

“That you can sing?” Elias’s words were quiet, but there was a spark of genuine curiosity behind them.

Adrelo groaned internally.

“Don’t listen to Milo. He’s exaggerating, as usual.”

“Exaggerating?” Elias tilted his head, his soft blond hair catching the light.

“Milo said you have a voice that could rival angels.”

“That’s Milo being Milo,” Adrelo said dismissively.

Elias pressed his lips together, clearly unconvinced. Before Adrelo could sidestep him, Milo made a dramatic entrance, practically dragging a group of first-year students toward their table.

“There he is!” Milo announced loudly, pointing at Adrelo like he was unveiling a long-lost artifact.

Adrelo froze. “Milo. What are you doing?”

“I’ve gathered witnesses!” Milo declared triumphantly.

“The Lyceum deserves to know the truth!”

“What truth?” Adrelo hissed, his patience fraying.

“That you’re the most talented vocalist this school has ever seen!” Milo clapped a hand on Adrelo’s shoulder.

Adrelo slapped it away. “Stop being ridiculous!”

Elias chuckled softly, covering his mouth as he watched the chaos unfold. Milo turned toward him with a grin.

“Elias, don’t just stand there! You’re the school’s resident music expert. Surely, you’re dying to hear him sing!”

“I wouldn’t say ‘dying,’” Elias replied, his voice teasing, “but I am curious.”

Adrelo groaned, his face heating up.

“Absolutely not. Can we move on?”

“Oh, but we can’t!” Milo exclaimed, dramatically clutching his chest.

“Adrelo, you have a gift! A once-in-a-lifetime voice! The Lyceum deserves—no, needs—to hear it!”

Adrelo crossed his arms. “And yet, I don’t need to sing.”

Before Milo could continue, the conversation was interrupted by Gareth. He entered the hall like a thunderstorm, his piercing gaze silencing nearby students. He strode directly to their table, his sharp features marred by a scowl.

“What’s going on now?” Gareth asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Oh, nothing much,” Milo said nonchalantly, though his mischievous grin betrayed him. “Just uncovering Adrelo’s hidden talents.”

Gareth raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to Adrelo. “That nonsense again?”

Milo beamed. “Of course not! You must know that your grumpy friend here has the voice of a seraph!”

Gareth snorted. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not!” Milo protested, puffing out his chest.

“I heard it with my own ears! It was glorious! Elias, back me up here.”

Elias, caught off guard, blinked.

“Well, I haven’t heard him myself, but Milo seems very... passionate about it.”

“Passionate? He’s delusional,” Adrelo muttered.

Gareth leaned against the table, crossing his arms.

“That’s a laugh. He barely speaks, let alone sings.”

“Oh, but he does,” Milo said, wagging a finger.

“And it’s magnificent! Better than Elias, even.”

Elias’s eyes widened. “Better than me?”

Milo grinned wickedly.

“I mean, your voice is lovely, Elias, truly. But Adrelo’s voice? It’s like... like honey and starlight mixed together!”

Adrelo groaned again, wishing he could vanish. “Milo, shut up!”

Gareth smirked, clearly enjoying Adrelo’s discomfort. “I’ll believe it when I hear it.”

“Well, you won’t,” Adrelo snapped, his tone sharper than he intended.

Elias leaned closer, his expression thoughtful.

“Adrelo, why are you so against it? If you can sing, why not let people hear it?”

Adrelo hesitated, caught off guard by the genuine curiosity in Elias’s voice.

“Because it’s none of their business,” he said finally.

“But it is their business,” Milo argued, gesturing wildly.

“You could be the pride of the Lyceum!”

“Or the laughingstock,” Adrelo muttered.

Elias frowned. “No one would laugh at you, Adrelo. If anything, they’d admire you.”

Adrelo avoided Elias’s gaze, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Gareth, sensing his discomfort, decided to intervene.

“All right, enough,” Gareth said, his tone firm.

“If Adrelo doesn’t want to sing, he doesn’t have to. Let’s move on.”

Milo pouted but relented, though not without one final comment.

“Fine. But mark my words, Adrelo. The truth will come out, and when it does, you’ll thank me.”

Adrelo groaned, slumping in his seat. “Doubt it.”

Elias chuckled softly, his eyes lingering on Adrelo. Despite the chaos, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued. What kind of voice could leave Milo—of all people—so enraptured?

As the group settled into an uneasy truce, Adrelo silently vowed to avoid singing in public at all costs. Unfortunately for him, fate—and Milo—had other plans.

****

Adrelo sighed as he walked to his next class, the echoes of the morning’s chaos still lingering in his mind. If anyone had asked how his day was going, he would’ve gladly described it as a descent into madness, courtesy of one Milo's doings.

"Curse you, Milo," he muttered under his breath for the fiftieth time that day.

"May you trip over your own shoes, spill your lunch, and stub your toe—all at the same time."

As he slid into his seat, trying to look nonchalant, the whispers became louder.

“Is it true?”

“They say his voice is like an angel’s.”

“Better than Elias, apparently.”

“Better than Lucien? That’s impossible!”

Adrelo groaned inwardly, gripping the edges of his desk. He tried to focus on arranging his notes, but the chatter was relentless.

From the row behind him, someone with a brave soul leaned forward and whispered loudly enough for the whole section to hear.

“Umm... hello, young master Adrelo”

Adrelo turned around to face that student, keeping a gentle and calm expression so as to not scare him.

“Yes?” he asked gently as possible.

The student seemingly was taken aback by his gentle demeanor unlike his previous reckless self. The student reluctantly wanted to at least talk to the son of the Dierre family, asked bravely.

“Oh um– may we ask? We’re all dying to know. Is it true? That you sing?”

Adrelo immediately answered that.

“No.”

“But Milo said—”

Adrelo spun around, smiled gently at the student.

“Does Milo look like a reliable source to you?”

The class burst into muffled laughter, but the whispers didn’t stop.

Lucien, who had been silent until now, spoke up.

“Milo’s usually an exaggerator, but if he’s spreading this much, there’s got to be a grain of truth.”

Adrelo froze. Of course, Lucien would weigh in. His voice carried the weight of an expert, someone who had mastered multiple instruments by the time he was ten. The fact that he was intrigued made Adrelo’s situation even worse.

“Oh, Adrelo,” he called out in a sing-song voice as he walked past.

He didn’t even pause. “Nope. Not today.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “What’s the rush? Afraid I’ll ask for an impromptu concert?”

“Perhaps we should hear for ourselves,” Lucien continued, his tone light but firm.

“No,” Adrelo said sharply, shooting him a glare.

Lucien raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his resistance. “You’re very defensive for someone who can’t sing.”

Adrelo stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. “I am not singing. Not for you, not for anyone, especially not for Milo’s overactive imagination.”

Lucien rested his chin in his hand, his expression a mix of curiosity and mischief.

“But the way everyone’s talking, I’d think you were the academy’s hidden songbird.”

“Hidden because I have nothing to hide!” Adrelo snapped, though his reddening ears betrayed his discomfort.

Lucien's smile widened as if he’d won some invisible game. “So defensive. That just makes me more curious.” He leaned forward conspiratorially.

Adrelo groaned internally. Lucien, too? Of course. Why stop at a few students when Milo could ruin my reputation with the entire school?

“Curse you, Milo,” he thought bitterly.

“May your quills break, your ink spill, and your parchment fly away in the wind.”

Lucien wasn’t done. “You know, Adrelo,” he continued, his voice light and airy as if he were weaving some kind of fairy tale,

“I’ve always had an ear for music. Maybe I could judge for myself? Just a little tune? A hum, even?”

Adrelo crossed his arms and gave him a flat look. “I’d rather duel a wyvern.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teased.

“Besides, if you keep denying it, people will only talk more.”

“They’re already talking too much,” he muttered, slumping into his chair. “Thanks to Milo.”

“Speaking of Milo,” Lucien said with a sly smile,

“he’s quite the storyteller. Did you know he compared your voice to the ‘ethereal whispers of an ancient phoenix’?”

Adrelo’s jaw tightened.

“Curse you, Milo. May you trip on a stray pebble and fall face-first into mud.”

Lucien laughed, a soft, bell-like sound that only made Adrelo feel more exasperated. He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a mockingly serious tone.

“You know, Adrelo, if the rumors are true, you’d be wasting a divine gift by staying silent.”

He glared at him. “And if the rumors are false, you’re all wasting my time.”

Before Lucien could respond, Celine entered the room. Her presence alone commanded attention, and all eyes turned to her as she strolled over to his usual seat. But instead of ignoring the room as she usually did, Celine stopped near Adrelo’s desk and looked directly at him.

“So,” Celine began, her voice calm but laced with curiosity, “is it true?”

Adrelo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not you too.”

Celine shrugged, unfazed. “When someone like Milo can’t stop talking, it’s hard not to listen. And if Lucien's this invested…”

“See?” Lucien interjected, gesturing at Celine.

“Even she thinks it’s worth investigating!”

Adrelo threw his hands in the air.

“I’m surrounded by lunatics.”

Lucien tilted his head, his expression thoughtful.

“If it’s false, just say so. But if it’s true… I wouldn’t mind hearing it for myself”

Celine smirked.

“Hmm... suit yourself, but if Milo’s right, you’re sitting on a talent that could rival even Fernhart's.”

Lucien gave her an amused look. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Celine. No one rivals our family.”

The two exchanged knowing smiles while Adrelo buried his face in his hands. He could practically hear Milo’s dramatic voice echoing in his head, fanning the flames of this chaos.

“Curse you, Milo,” Adrelo thought furiously.

“May your pillow go flat, your tea turn cold, and your cookies crumble before you can eat them.”

Lucien smirked, as if sensing Adrelo’s internal struggle. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”

“No!” Adrelo exclaimed, his voice louder than he intended. The room fell silent, and every pair of eyes turned to him once again.

Lucien chuckled softly, and Celine gave him a knowing look.

Adrelo slumped back in his chair, glaring at the ceiling. “I hate this school.”

Lucien leaned closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh, Adrelo, don’t be so grumpy. Who knows? Maybe you’ll thank Milo one day.”

‘This guy's acting as if we're close!’

“Doubt it,” Adrelo muttered.

“But when I finally lose my mind, I’ll make sure Milo’s the first to know.”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the lesson, and Adrelo couldn’t be more relieved. But as the professor began to speak, he noticed Celine still sneaking amused glances at him, and Lucien occasionally glanced his way with a faint smile.

“Curse you, Milo,” Adrelo thought once more, resigning himself to his fate.

“May you wake up with a ridiculous haircut and no one tell you until it’s too late.”

*****

The library was quiet—too quiet. Adrelo usually liked it that way, but after days of dodging rumors about his so-called “angelic voice,” he was starting to think peace was a thing of the past. He hunched over his desk, burying his face in his notes, praying no one would recognize him here.

The calm didn’t last long.

Soft murmurs grew louder around him, like ripples in a pond, and Adrelo peeked out from behind his book. His blood ran cold as he spotted the reason for the disturbance: Dennielle Azekian Luxein Geovri Breneille. The Fourth Prince.

A collective gasp spread across the library, whispers erupting like wildfire.

“It’s him!”

“What’s the Fourth Prince doing here?”

“Look at him—he’s so beautiful it hurts to breathe!”

The prince strolled through the library with the elegance of a swan, golden eyes scanning the room like he owned the place—which, to be fair, he probably did. Students parted like the Red Sea to let him through, bowing their heads and whispering in awe.

Adrelo felt a sinking pit in his stomach when those piercing golden eyes locked onto him.

No. No, no, no. He can’t possibly be coming here. Why would he even—

The prince was now only a few steps away.

Oh gods, he’s definitely coming here.

Adrelo shot up from his chair so fast he nearly flipped the desk over. He immediately bowed so low his spine cracked. “Y-Your Highness!” he squeaked. “W-what brings you here?”

Dennielle tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You, of course.”

Adrelo’s brain short-circuited. Me? ME?! Why in the world is the prince talking to me? We’re not even close! We’ve barely exchanged five words before!

“Pardon?” Adrelo croaked, straightening up but keeping his head down. “I—I think there must be some kind of mistake.”

Adrelo nodded stiffly, still trying to figure out how he’d fallen into this royal nightmare. Why is he acting so familiar? Is this a prank? Are there hidden cameras somewhere?

“I heard some rather fascinating rumors about you,” Dennielle said, taking a seat across from Adrelo as if they were lifelong friends.

Adrelo’s knees buckled, and he dropped into his chair before he collapsed entirely. “R-rumors?” he stammered, already knowing exactly what the prince was referring to.

“Yes.” Dennielle propped his chin on his hand, golden eyes gleaming with interest. “Apparently, you have a voice that rivals the Fernhart hummingbird.”

Adrelo groaned internally. Milo, I’m going to kill you.

“That’s—that’s an exaggeration, Your Highness,” he said quickly. “I really don’t sing. It’s all just a silly misunderstanding.”

Dennielle leaned back, regarding him with a curious smile. “Is that so? Then why is everyone so convinced?”

Adrelo blinked, completely thrown. “I… I don’t know? Maybe because people are bored? Or because Milo has a very loud mouth?”

The prince laughed—a soft, melodic sound that made Adrelo’s brain go fuzzy for a moment. How is he this perfect? This isn’t fair.

“You’re quite funny,” Dennielle said, his smile widening. “I didn’t expect that.”

Adrelo stared at him, baffled. Why is he even talking to me? Shouldn’t he be busy with princely things?

“Um, Your Highness,” Adrelo ventured cautiously, “not to be rude, but… why are you here? Talking to me?”

Dennielle’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Why not? You're the son of the house of Dierre, should it be a bother somehow?”

Adrelo gaped at him. “N-no! That's not what I meant Your Highness, it's just that...we’re not exactly…” He waved his hand vaguely. “Close.”

The prince leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“That can change, can’t it? I prefer to be of acquaintance with the House of Dierre.”

Adrelo nearly swallowed his tongue.

“Your Highness, pardon my informality but what I meant is that it doesn’t need to and I am nothing of your graceful pesence and um... Not to intrude but you are that of a royal prince so we don’t have to—”

Dennielle raised a hand, cutting him off with a faintly amused expression.

“Relax, Adrelo. You’re acting as if I’m here to arrest you.”

“I might prefer that,” Adrelo muttered under his breath, earning another laugh from the prince.

“Well, now that I’m here,” Dennielle continued, “I’d like to confirm the rumors for myself.”

Adrelo froze. “C-confirm?”

“Yes. I want to hear you sing.”

Adrelo’s soul left his body. This is it. This is how I die.

“I—I can’t!” he blurted. “I mean, I really don’t sing. It’s all been blown out of proportion—completely overhyped. There’s really nothing to hear!”

Dennielle tapped his chin thoughtfully, as if deciding whether or not to believe him.

“Hmm. If that’s true, then it’s a shame. But somehow, I don’t think you’re being entirely honest with me.”

Adrelo gawked at him. Why is he so perceptive? This isn’t fair! I’m just trying to survive here!

The prince rose gracefully from his seat, his golden eyes still fixed on Adrelo.

“Very well. I won’t force you—this time. But you can’t run from me forever, Snowy Bunny.”

Adrelo nearly fell out of his chair. “S-Snowy Bunny?!”

Dennielle smirked. “Oh, didn’t you know? That’s what people are calling you now.”

Adrelo buried his face in his hands as the prince turned and walked away, leaving a trail of awestruck whispers in his wake.

I’m going to kill Milo, Adrelo thought miserably. Slowly. Painfully.