Saint Stephen Academy offered generous accommodations: every pair of students received a room in a standalone two-story cottage.

This arrangement catered to noble students from distant regions, matching their accustomed lifestyles—and by extension, benefiting those from more modest backgrounds.

Loko returned to the dorm first. The academy-assigned housekeeper had already cleaned it thoroughly the day before, making it move-in ready.

The ground floor held a spacious living room and kitchen; the second floor, their two bedrooms.

Loko chose the north-facing room, leaving the sunnier south-facing one for Shilufei.

After tidying her space, Loko flopped onto the bed spread-eagled—completely shedding the ladylike decorum she maintained in public.

"Ah… No turning back now," she murmured.

"Shilufei probably hasn’t grown suspicious yet… Wait. Given her reaction earlier—maybe because I helped her out, she might even feel a little grateful toward me."

She let out a wry chuckle.

"But what does that goodwill matter? If I betray her in the end, all that warmth will only twist into deeper, sharper hatred."

In her dreams, she’d already died countless ways. Loko knew her strategy was a double-edged sword.

Handle it well, and she might escape unscathed.

Handle it poorly… well, that’d be straight out of an "R18G" scenario.

Loko shrank back, refusing to dwell further.

Anyway, the young mistress hadn’t demanded results yet. For now, building rapport with Shilufei was the priority.

Just then, her ears twitched.

Hearing the front door open downstairs, she sprang up, smoothed her clothes, checked her reflection, and stepped out.

"Shilufei? You got your things already?"

"Mm." Shilufei nodded with a smile.

"The innkeeper was kind—he delivered them to the academy gate. I met him right there, so I didn’t have to walk far."

Loko didn’t doubt her.

At this stage of the original plot, Shilufei was still just a harmless little fawn. Her true transformation wouldn’t begin until after the betrayal. Before that? Zero guile.

"Go ahead to your room. I took the north-facing one and saved the sunny south room for you."

Shilufei’s face lit up, her aquamarine eyes sparkling—then dimmed with flustered concern.

"Thank you so much… but… are you sure? Won’t you be uncomfortable…?"

She lowered her head, almost guilt-stricken—as if wishing she’d arrived first to take the worse room herself.

Loko simply smiled. "Not at all. Back home, I never liked sun-facing rooms either."

*Yeah. Compared to early-stage Shilufei, I’m definitely the darker one.*

"Then… thank you, Loko." Shilufei paused, as if remembering something. "Oh—and just call me Shilufei from now on. We’re roommates… no need to be so formal."

"Sure~" Loko agreed readily.

...

Meanwhile, Teresa settled into a private dorm arranged by her servants.

Saint Stephen Academy had ample housing; a minor connection secured her an entire cottage.

Truth was, no first-year dared room with her.

As the York Family’s young mistress and the academy’s most anticipated freshman, living with her meant constant comparison.

Plus, her notoriously unpredictable temper? Offend her once, and you might wake up tied to a stone at the bottom of the lake.

Teresa sat on the sofa. Across from her sat a girl of refined grace: chestnut hair flowing over her shoulders, a classic teardrop mole at her eye’s corner, fourth-year uniform crisp, a medal pinned proudly to her chest.

Haya—daughter of Adams, elder brother of Drake (current York Family head). After Adams’ untimely passing, Haya ranked second only to Teresa among the younger generation.

"Teresa… I never imagined you’d grow up so much," Haya said, though they met yearly—a clear attempt to assert seniority.

"And you too, sister," Teresa replied smoothly. "Already in fourth year… graduating next. Time really does fly, doesn’t it?"

*Translation: Graduate next year. Stop trying to tower over me here.*

Their exchange ended in stalemate, intentions perfectly clear.

Haya chuckled. "I rarely follow family matters, but… wasn’t your assignment rather trivial?"

Teresa’s fists tightened subtly beneath the table.

"‘Trivial’? Any task benefiting the family holds value."

"Quite right." Haya’s smile widened. *If only Father hadn’t died young… he’d be head now. Our positions would be reversed.* She believed Uncle Drake was merely padding Teresa’s resume. Monitoring some nobody? If *that* warranted family council discussion, how embarrassing.

"Pity. My wise uncle tarnishing his legacy… all to pave the way for his ‘useless’ little sister."

"Any contribution matters," Haya added sweetly, "whether washing dishes or mopping floors."

The sarcasm was razor-sharp.

"Sister Haya," Teresa said coolly, "if nothing else, please take your leave. I’m weary from travel."

"Of course. See you at tomorrow’s opening ceremony. I do hope my *dear* little sister prepared a speech moving enough to stir the whole school."

Haya set down her teacup, rose gracefully, and strolled toward the door.

"Oh, Teresa." Pausing at the threshold. "I’m running for student council president this year. If you plan to run too… wait until next year."

Without waiting for a reply, she slipped out, closing the door softly behind her.

Silence.

Teresa lifted the opposite teacup—arm tensed to hurl it—then set it down gently.

"Haya… Trying to provoke me into spreading myself too thin? Clever."

Suddenly, Loko’s face flashed in her mind.

*That girl… probably in the dorm by now. Has she met Shilufei yet?*

*So timid—panics at the slightest scare, hides nothing from me. Can she really handle being a spy?*

For the first time, Teresa felt a flicker of worry for her little lackey.