Chapter 26

Adrelo was fuming. No, "fuming" wasn’t strong enough. He was a volcano on the brink of eruption, and Milo was the unfortunate villager in his path. After the incident in the library with the fourth prince—the fourth prince—Adrelo had had enough. The rumors, the whispers, the unwanted attention, and now royalty casually talking to him as if they were lifelong friends?

It was too much.

He stomped through the academy halls like a man on a mission, muttering under his breath.

“Where is he? Where is that pest? That menace? That—”

His eyes landed on Milo, who was standing by the fountain, chatting animatedly with a group of first-years. The sight of Milo laughing, carefree, while Adrelo’s life spiraled into chaos, sent him over the edge.

“MILOOOO!”

Milo turned his head just in time to see Adrelo charging at him like a bull seeing red.

“WHOA—WAIT! Adrelo, buddy, pal—calm down!” Milo yelped, scrambling to put the fountain between them.

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?!” Adrelo shouted, hopping over the fountain with surprising agility.

“You’ve ruined my life, Milo!”

“Ruined? I improved it!” Milo protested, ducking as Adrelo swung a fist in his direction.

“You’ve got the fourth prince himself talking to you! That’s not ruin—that’s status!”

“Status?! I almost died from shock!” Adrelo growled, chasing Milo around the fountain.

“What were you thinking, spreading those rumors about my singing?”

Milo paused, just out of Adrelo’s reach, and put on an innocent face.

“I didn’t spread rumors, Adrelo. I merely shared facts. Glorious, melodious facts.”

“Glorious? Melodious?! I don’t want people talking about me!” Adrelo lunged, but Milo dodged, skidding behind a statue.

“You’re just mad because you got caught being talented!” Milo said, pointing an accusing finger.

“Don’t blame me for exposing your voice of angels. Honestly, you could probably rival that Elias punk.”

Adrelo stopped mid-charge, his eye twitching. “Rival Elias?” he repeated, incredulous.

“Are you insane? Do you know what that comparison does to me? Now I’ve got his brother, his fangirls, and the fourth prince breathing down my neck!”

“Exactly!” Milo grinned.

“Your social stock is skyrocketing! Soon you’ll be a legend!”

“I don’t want to be a legend! I want to be invisible!” Adrelo exploded, finally grabbing Milo by the collar.

“And you—are going to fix this!”

“How?” Milo asked, managing to wriggle free.

“You can’t unsing, Adrelo. The world knows your secret now. Besides, you should embrace it! Imagine it—Adrelo Dierre, the Snowy Songbird! No, wait—Adrelo, the Siren of the Academy!”

Adrelo groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“I hate you. I hate you so much right now.”

“Oh, come on, Adrelo,” Milo said, patting his back.

“You’ve got to admit, it’s kind of funny. All those years of hiding your talent, and now you’re being compared to Elias and catching the attention of princes. It’s poetic!”

Adrelo peeked through his fingers, his glare icy.

“Poetic? Milo, I swear, if I have to endure one more awkward encounter because of this, you’ll be poetic roadkill.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll stand still long enough for that to happen,” Milo quipped, already backing away.

Adrelo sighed, slumping against the fountain.

“Why me? Why do I even associate with you?”

“Because I make your life interesting,” Milo said with a wink. “And admit it—you’re secretly flattered.”

Adrelo grabbed a pebble from the fountain and lobbed it at him.

“Shut up before I actually strangle you.”

Milo ducked, laughing. “You love me! Admit it!”

Adrelo lunged again, his arms outstretched like a villain ready to wring Milo’s neck. Milo, the slippery eel that he was, ducked under a low-hanging branch and vaulted over a bush, narrowly avoiding certain doom.

“You’re going to regret ever opening that loud mouth of yours!” Adrelo barked, stomping after him.

“I regret nothing!” Milo shot back, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Except for not recording your voice that night! You could’ve gone viral in all the empire—no, all the kingdoms combined!”

“Viral?!” Adrelo echoed, momentarily distracted by Milo’s audacity.

“You mean you’d actually have me paraded around as some sort of singing circus act?!”

“Oh, come on,” Milo said, ducking behind a tree.

“Imagine it: ‘Adrelo Dierre, the Silken Voice of the Empire!’ Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll give you a nice ring—around your neck!” Adrelo growled, nearly vaulting over the tree in his pursuit.

“Adrelo, listen to me,” Milo said, dodging yet again.

“Do you realize how much power a voice like yours can give you? You’re sitting on a goldmine, and instead of embracing it, you’re acting like I cursed your family name!”

“I wish you had!” Adrelo snapped.

“Then at least I’d know why half the academy is gawking at me like I’m a mythical beast on display!”

Milo, laughing breathlessly, leaned against a wall to catch his breath.

“You’re overreacting, my friend. Rumors die down. This will blow over in no time.”

Adrelo narrowed his eyes, his voice dangerously calm. “Milo. The fourth prince walked up to me. In the library. And called me his ‘cute snowy bunny.’”

Milo froze, then snorted, doubling over in laughter. “He called you what?”

“You think this is funny?” Adrelo roared, throwing his hands in the air.

“He looked at me like I was some kind of pet! I nearly fainted!”

“Okay, okay,” Milo wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

“But come on, that’s kind of adorable. ‘Snowy bunny!’ I mean, it fits! You do have that helpless vibe going on—”

“Helpless?!” Adrelo lunged again, but Milo, still laughing, nimbly sidestepped.

“Adrelo, my guy, you’re focusing on the wrong thing!” Milo said, wagging a finger at him.

“Do you know how rare it is for the fourth prince to show interest in someone? You should be honored!”

“I don’t want his interest!” Adrelo hissed, dragging a hand down his face.

“I want to go back to being invisible!”

Milo grinned. “Oh, come on. You’re finally stepping into the spotlight. I’m proud of you!”

Adrelo shot him a murderous glare.

“Milo, I swear, if you don’t shut up, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Milo interrupted, smirking.

“Sing me to death with your angelic voice? Serenade me into submission?”

Adrelo groaned, throwing his head back.

“Why did I ever befriend you?”

“Because you needed me,” Milo said smugly, crossing his arms.

“Without me, you’d still be that grumpy nobody hiding in the shadows. Now, you’re the talk of the academy! You should be thanking me!”

Adrelo, glaring daggers, pointed a trembling finger at Milo.

“You’re lucky I don’t have any actual combat skills.”

“Lucky? No, no,” Milo said, stepping closer and patting Adrelo on the shoulder.

“You’re lucky. Because when this voice rumor turns into a full-blown legacy, you’ll remember the genius who started it all.”

Adrelo stared at him, deadpan.

“I’m going to write a legacy alright. Your obituary.”

Milo laughed, backing away with his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright! Let’s call a truce! No need for violence—save it for your adoring fans!”

Adrelo groaned again, turning on his heel.

“I’m done. I’m done with you. Forever.”

“See you tomorrow?” Milo called after him, grinning ear to ear.

Adrelo didn’t respond, but the murderous glint in his eyes said it all.

****

The next morning.

Milo strolled into the room like he owned the place, his sheepish grin in full display.

“Hey, roommate! How’s it going there?”

Adrelo, who was lying face down on his bed, groaned without looking up.

“Get lost.”

Milo ignored the warning, plopping down onto the chair across the room.

“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. You’ve been hiding here all day like a hermit. It’s almost sad.”

Adrelo slowly raised his head, his glare sharp enough to cut steel.

“You are the reason I’m stuck in here. You don’t get to pity me.”

Milo gasped, placing a hand on his chest.

“Me? I only helped you embrace your God-given talent! I mean, how was I supposed to know you’d react like this? You’re practically famous now!”

Adrelo sat up, his fists clenched.

“I didn’t ask to be famous! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have half the academy think I’m competing with Elias Fernhart for the title of ‘Most Angelic Voice’?!”

“Well…” Milo scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“Between you and me, you are winning.”

Adrelo threw a pillow at him, which Milo barely dodged with a yelp.

“Relax, Adrelo!” Milo said, laughing nervously.

“You’re stressing over nothing. Rumors fade, you know. Besides, you could always deny it.”

Adrelo stared at him, deadpan.

“Deny it? How exactly do I deny something when you’ve been screaming my praises from the rooftops?”

“Fine, fine,” Milo said, waving a hand.

“Let’s look at the bright side. You’ve got a talent that could rival the best. Why not own it?”

Adrelo sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Milo, I’m not trying to be known. I just want to get through my classes and avoid unnecessary attention.”

Milo squinted at him.

“Wait… is this about a curse or something? Like, are you forbidden to sing or else you’ll summon a vengeful spirit?”

The word ‘curse’ hit Adrelo like a slap. He flinched so hard he accidentally kicked Milo squarely in the shin.

“OW!” Milo yelped, hopping on one leg and clutching the other dramatically.

“I ask a simple question, and you kick me? What kind of response is that?! I’m wounded, Adrelo—physically and emotionally!”

Adrelo muttered, “Stop being dramatic.”

Milo flopped onto the bed beside him, still clutching his leg.

“You’re so secretive, man. Seriously, why won’t you let the world hear your voice? You could be legendary! What are you hiding? Did you sell your soul for those vocal cords? Are you secretly—”

“Shut up, Milo,” Adrelo grumbled, pushing his face into his hands.

Milo sat up and wagged a finger at him.

“You know, nobles usually flaunt their talents. Don’t tell me your family didn’t train you. I mean, aren’t you all about that ‘refinement’ stuff?”

Adrelo froze, his expression suddenly unreadable.

Milo blinked. “Wait… they didn’t?”

Adrelo’s silence spoke volumes.

Milo’s jaw dropped.

“Hold on. Your family didn’t teach you? What, did they not care you had the voice of an angel? Or are you, like, the secret rebel child or something?”

Adrelo clenched his fists but didn’t respond.

Milo tilted his head, his grin fading slightly.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”

Adrelo sighed, finally looking at Milo.

“It’s not something I want to talk about...”

Milo hesitated before nodding.

“Alright, fine. I’ll drop it. For now. But seriously, Adrelo, you’ve got something special. Don’t let whatever baggage you’ve got stop you from owning it.”

Adrelo lay back down, groaning.

“Milo, I need peace not fame.”

Milo grinned again, leaning over to pat Adrelo’s head.

“Peace? You’re stuck with me, buddy. There’s no peace in this dorm.”

Adrelo swatted his hand away, muttering,

“I’m cursed. Not by magic. By you.”

Milo just laughed, ignoring the glare Adrelo shot him.

****

After Milo finally left, leaving behind a trail of chaos and a still-throbbing shin from where Adrelo had kicked him, Adrelo sat on the edge of his bed, letting the silence settle around him.

He rubbed his temples, trying to forget Milo’s antics, but his roommate's words lingered.

‘Your family didn’t teach you?’

The question echoed in his mind. A pang of discomfort settled in his chest as he thought about it. It wasn’t just that they hadn’t trained him in music—no one in the Dierre family even seemed to know what Adrelo’s talents or unique magic were supposed to be.

That, in itself, was strange. The Dierre family was renowned for their strictness in honing their children's abilities, pushing them to their limits to live up to the family’s lofty reputation. Adrelo’s siblings were no exception—they had all been meticulously trained in their respective fields, whether it was combat, diplomacy, or magical prowess. But the original Adrelo?

He was the anomaly.

Adrelo leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. The memories he’d inherited from the original Adrelo were hazy at best, but one thing was clear: the family had treated him as though he were invisible. A disappointment not even worth acknowledging. They hadn’t bothered to find out what he was good at, or if he was good at anything at all.

And now, he—the new Adrelo—had discovered this voice, this talent that didn’t seem to align with anything the Dierre family valued or practiced. There was no history of music in their bloodline, no tutors or experts brought in to teach him. So how?

He frowned, resting his chin in his hand.

“Did the original Adrelo even know he could sing?” he muttered to himself.

The thought was unsettling. What if this voice was something entirely new—something that only came to light because he had taken over this body? It felt wrong, as though he was holding onto something that wasn’t truly his.

But then again, the Dierre family had never cared enough to look deeper. They hadn’t known, and they wouldn’t have cared even if they did.

Adrelo closed his eyes, the faint memory of his family’s cold gazes flashing in his mind. Their dismissal, their indifference—it all added up to the same conclusion.

“No wonder they didn’t know,” he whispered bitterly. “They never looked.”

A hollow laugh escaped him as he shook his head. The idea of the Dierre family—so proud, so obsessed with perfection—having overlooked something as rare and unexpected as his voice was almost laughable.

And yet, there was something else that unsettled him. The rumors now circulating around the academy had drawn attention from people he never would have expected—Lucien Fernhart, Celine Velarien, the fourth prince. People who wouldn’t have given him a second glance before.

Adrelo clenched his fists.

“This talent… it’s not a curse,” he muttered, as if trying to convince himself. “It’s just… something they missed. Something they didn’t deserve to know about.”

Adrelo leaned his head back against the wall, his thoughts spiraling further into the depths of confusion and self-reflection. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

"Pretty."

That was the first word that had come to his mind when he first heard the original Adrelo’s voice. It wasn’t his own discovery, really—it had been one of those idle moments, humming a random tune, when he realized just how unique and captivating the original Adrelo’s voice was.

The realization had hit him like a lightning bolt. He wasn’t an expert musician. But he was interested in singing. But there was no denying it—the sound that escaped his lips back then was ethereal, haunting, almost too good to be true.

At first, he’d dismissed it. It wasn’t like he planned on singing in front of anyone, anyway.

But boredom was a dangerous companion, and it wasn’t long before he’d started experimenting, just to see how far he could push it.

It became a strange little habit—singing quietly when no one was around, training himself to control the voice, to understand it.

At night, when the world was silent and the shadows crept in, he’d hum under his breath, letting the notes weave through the darkness.

He didn’t even know why he did it. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something deeper—a small rebellion against the family that never cared enough to notice.

“It’s not like I planned for anyone to hear me,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It was just… something to do. Something to get used to.”

And now, thanks to Milo and his uncontrollable mouth, that private little habit had turned into an academy-wide spectacle.

Adrelo buried his face in his hands, groaning. The irony wasn’t lost on him. The very thing he had worked so hard to keep hidden was now the reason people were suddenly interested in him.

He glanced at the corner of the room where his reflection faintly glimmered in the window glass.

“Why did I even bother?” he muttered bitterly.

But deep down, he knew the answer. The original Adrelo’s voice had been too beautiful to ignore. And now, it was his. He had made it his own, quietly, piece by piece, in the dead of night when no one was watching.

Maybe it wasn’t the kind of talent that could rival the magical prowess of his siblings, or the kind of ability that would make his family proud.

But it was something.

And, for now, it was his secret. Or at least, it had been.

“Curse you, Milo,” Adrelo grumbled, pulling a pillow over his face as if it could block out the world.

No matter how much he tried to deny it, the thought of people hearing that voice, his voice, left a strange knot in his chest. Not quite fear. Not quite pride.

Just… something he didn’t know how to name.