Lorin hurried into the classroom just as the bell rang. The tiered lecture hall was far from full, so he naturally slipped into a seat near the back.

The moment he sat down, he felt a sharp gaze boring into him. He followed the stare—and met Xueyi’s glare from across the room. That same venomous look.

*Damn. We share classes?*

The Bookkeeper’s records only covered the unaltered timeline. Xueyi had barely been mentioned—and there was no "second prince" like him in that story.

Lorin lifted a hand to shield his cheek from her stare. *Is she going to kill me?*

All through the lecture, he felt Xueyi’s eyes locked on him. He even tried waving once. Her glare only intensified, as if she’d leap across the desks to strangle him if she could. He gave up.

The professor droned on about theory—material Lorin already knew from the Bookkeeper’s files. Boredom set in.

As class ended, the instructor called out, “Xueyi Glaive. For using magic outside the training grounds this morning, you’ll clean this classroom as punishment.”

“What?!” Xueyi shot to her feet.

“Refuse, and your year-tier rank drops,” the instructor said flatly before striding out.

The other students smirked at Xueyi’s flushed face.

“What are you staring at? Get out!” she snapped.

They merely shrugged and filed out.

Year-tier rank determined standing. Top graduates earned priority placements in the Knighthood—and exceptional ones might even be granted lands.

Lorin had planned to return to his manor. But since all his tasks involved Xueyi, he doubled back.

The empty classroom held only Xueyi, stiffly sweeping the floor. Lorin sighed. No noble ever did chores like this. Though seemingly mild, this punishment would invite ridicule for weeks.

“Hey,” he called.

Xueyi glanced over. Her expression darkened the moment she saw him. “Come to mock me too?”

“Others already did?” Lorin strolled over and grabbed a dustpan.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Me? Weren’t you punished for using magic? I used it this morning too.”

“Tch. Don’t think this makes me like you.”

Lorin was puzzled. The Bookkeeper insisted Xueyi was a minor character who vanished from the main plot. Yet her temperament screamed future villain.

Near the end of cleaning, Lorin asked, “You really hate Lilith, don’t you?”

Xueyi shot him a withering look. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing much. Just curious. She’s well-liked here.”

Lilith was a top student who often helped others—a perfect protagonist.

Xueyi fell silent for a long moment. “Yes. I hate her. Before she showed up, *I* should’ve been first in our year-tier.”

Lorin set down his broom casually. “Maybe she’s just more talented.”

The words left his mouth—and a dustpan flew at his head. He didn’t dodge in time.

Before he could react, Xueyi yelled, “You’re full of shit!”

Lorin blinked. Aristocratic ladies weren’t taught such vulgarities. But Xueyi clearly didn’t care.

She gripped the broom handle, knuckles white. “Why is she ‘more talented’? I’ve trained since childhood—endured brutal drills—while she’s some nobody who’s never suffered! Why does *she* steal everything?!” Her voice cracked. “Everything. My rank? My father only scolds me now, ignoring every effort I’ve made. My brother? Ha. Even the Duke’s heir—the Knighthood’s next captain—is bewitched by her. Why does every blessing circle around her? What’s she but a witch in disguise?”

Lorin stayed quiet. *Here it is. The classic protagonist glow-up crushing side characters. Like stars vanishing under the sun.*

Seeing his silence, Xueyi sneered. “Right. You’re just the second prince. No claim to the throne. How could you understand?”

“Yeah. How could I?” Lorin dusted off his hands, utterly unmoved. Others would’ve flared at that jab. But he was an outsider to this story.

“Since you ‘understand’ so much,” he said, “one question: I heard you and Lilith both fancy my brother. True?”

Xueyi had meant to provoke him. His indifference startled her. “No.”

“Then?” Lilith’s words seemed true.

“But if I marry the crown prince—future emperor—I’ll be empress. Then no one will ever look down on me again.”

If overheard, those words would ruin her family. Yet in this story’s logic, it made sense.

“Fair enough.” Lorin stepped toward the door. “Cleaning’s done. I’ll leave you to it. Sweet dreams.”

Watching him leave, Xueyi frowned. Others—Lilith included—would’ve raged at her earlier words. But this second prince? It was as if the insults hadn’t touched him at all.

*In the original story, the queen’s identity was never specified—not Lilith, not me.* But after this talk, Lorin suspected the throne’s consort might be Xueyi’s turning point toward villainy. *This angle should work.*