Princess Octavia Sable's morning routine was extensive. A pair of Servants adjusted her uniform jacket, smoothed out creases, and fastened buttons carefully.

  She stood still through it all, chin slightly lifted, posture flawless, her expression calm and distant. A princess did not fidget, no matter how long the process took.

  Once the last adjustment was made and the servants stepped back, a tray was brought into her room next filled with small glass bottles. Octavia took the first set of eye drops without complaint, tilting her head back as instructed. The liquid stung, blurring her vision for a moment, and she blinked a few times until the world sharpened again. She hated the stupid eyedrops, but she knew that she had no other choice but to take them.

  Then came the medicines, all tablets of different sizes and colors. She swallowed them all one by one, and this, too, was as essential as the uniform or the title she carried. No one needed to know how much she resented it, or how bitter the taste lingered no matter how often she endured it.

  Only when everything was complete did Octavia finally allow herself a glance at her reflection in the mirror. The faint glow in her yellow eyes had dimmed to something passably normal, and she blinked twice just to make sure that her eyes weren't too sensitive.

  Ever since she first became aware of herself, Octavia had known her body was not normal. Her eyes, in particular, were unnaturally sensitive to mana. She could see ambient mana drifting through the air as clearly as one might see red colored paint on a wall.

  But what should have been a gift quickly became a burden as well. Her sight was so sharp that simply existing became painful.

  Octavia saw the flow of mana within every person she passed, their mana cores pulsing deep within their souls. She saw it in the environment, in magical objects, even in some animals. The constant flood of information never stopped, and the strain did great damage to her. Without intervention, it hurt to look at anything at all, which was why the eye drops were necessary.

  The drops did not erase her ability, nor did they truly weaken it. Instead, they dulled her vision just enough that she could function. With them, she could choose when to focus into someone’s mana core, instead of being drowned in it every waking moment.

  And her eyes were only the beginning. Octavia's mana core was just as abnormal, growing at a pace her body could not safely match. Left unchecked, the excess mana would accumulate until it tore her apart from the inside. The medicines she swallowed each morning were meant to suppress that growth to an extent, keeping her body from quite literally exploding under its own power.

  Octavia despised the endless precautions she had to take just to stay alive, and she loathed how much effort it required simply to appear normal. Even so, part of her did accept that greatness always came with a cost.

  With that thought firmly in place, Octavia turned away from the mirror. A servant opened the door, and she stepped into an outer sitting room. Meanwhile, the staff were already preparing the next steps of her routine.

  A maid was waiting near the side table, her red hair neatly tied into a tight bun at the back of her head. She was younger than most of the palace servants, with a smile that was seldom seen in royal courts. A covered tray was beside her, carrying the inviting scent of freshly baked pastries.

  “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said, dipping into a careful curtsy.

  “Good morning, Melina. What are those?” Octavia asked, gesturing toward the pastries.

  Melina’s smile brightened, just a little. “Oh! I made lemon tarts this morning. Light ones with slightly less sugar, just as you prefer.”

  “Wonderful, please take them to the breakfast room."

  "At once your highness!"

  Octavia moved toward the breakfast room. Melina followed a step behind, careful not to crowd her.

  A simple meal had already been prepared on the table. There was fresh bread, sliced fruit, tea, and several dishes chosen to suit her condition. Octavia took her seat at the head of the table and adjusted her uniform as she sat.

  Melina placed the tray down and lifted the cover, revealing the tarts beneath. Octavia picked one up and took a small bite. The flavor was well balanced, with a light savory note, a gentle lemony tang, and just enough sweetness.

  “You’ve improved the filling,” Octavia said. “Its texture is much better than last week.”

  “I adjusted the ratio of some of the ingredients, Your Highness. I’m glad you noticed.”

  “I notice when things are done well. So do continue experimenting with these pastries in the future."

  “Yes, Your Highness! Thank you for the kind words."

  Octavia ate in silence for a short while before the breakfast room door opened. A tall butler with neatly combed silver hair entered and bowed. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

  “Morning, Renwick,” Octavia said, lifting her gaze to him. “You’re early.”

  “My apologies, Your Highness,” Renwick said. “There is quite a lot I must brief you on today, so I took the initiative to begin earlier than usual.”

  “Then you may continue. I’ll eat while you speak.”

  Octavia continued eating as Renwick began his report. “You have a morning lecture in the eastern hall with Professor Valemont, and after that, there will be a supervised practical session in a training hall. Your presence has already been noted by the instructors in charge, and appropriate accommodations have been made.”

  “Go on,” Octavia replied.

  “There is also an upcoming meeting with the administrative council, as they wish to discuss your continued access to restricted archives.”

  “Inform them that I have no interest in further discussions until the western archive wing is properly refurbished, that section reeks of neglect.”

  “Yes, Your Highness, I will inform the council of your demand."

  Octavia finished the tart and reached for her tea to drink. Only when she set the cup down did she look back at him. “Is there anything else for today? You implied there was more.”

  Renwick inclined his head. “There is some interesting news. You may have heard there was an accident at Leon Belkov’s dormitory.”

  “What? Is he alright?”

  “Yes, quite. The academy has already issued a formal apology to the Belkov family, and from what’s been reported, there was some kind of structural failure in his room. The entire floor has since been sealed off temporarily, even to faculty.”

  “Hm, I’m relieved to hear he’s unharmed. But is there any other news you have that concerns me?"

  It wasn’t that Octavia held any personal animosity toward Leon Belkov, or toward anyone else at the academy, for that matter. She just never found it easy to care about people who offered her no clear value in one way or another, though there were, on occasion, exceptions to that rule.

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  “Actually, Your Highness. Several professors have already sent letters this morning, and all of them are requests for you to become their apprentice.” Renwick said.

  Octavia could barely restrain the urge to roll her eyes. Attempts to curry her favor were nothing new, and the academy’s professors were no exception.

  Even if she had been utterly powerless, her status as a princess alone would have been enough to draw them in like scavengers, eager to parade her as proof of their own importance under the pretense of apprenticeship. That she was genuinely gifted in magic only made them bolder. To Octavia, the difference between them and vultures was that one of them had the privilege of sitting in a fancy building most of the time.

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Dispose of all of the letters. I have no interest in binding myself to mediocrity, and I refuse to be paraded as a prize by scholars who have no practical achievements outside of the academy."

  “Very well, Your Highness. Shall I dispose of all the letters then?”

  “All of them,” Octavia said, reaching for another sip of tea. “Unless you believe one of them is worth my time.”

  “Even the letter from Professor Ashford?” Renwick asked.

  Octavia’s hand stilled mid-motion. She lowered the cup slowly and lifted her gaze to him. “He sent a letter?”

  Renwick nodded and took out an envelope from his pocket. “He did. It arrived earlier this morning.”

  The butler stepped forward and placed the envelope gently on the table. Octavia stared at it for a long moment before she reached out, broke the seal, and opened the letter.

  She read the letter, once, then again. For a brief moment, her composure slipped as she accepted that this was real. Professor Ashford was genuinely offering to take her on as his apprentice.

  The realization sent a sharp, exhilarating pulse through her chest, one she had to rein in before it showed. She remembered the first time she had seen him in the lecture hall. Even with her vision dulled by the eye drops, his mana core had been impossible to ignore. The Professors' mana core was like the sun, where most others in the class had mana cores that were closer to candles in comparison.

  Very few people had a mana core stronger than hers, and even fewer could control that kind of power without losing themselves. Professor Ashford was one of them, and that alone placed him far above the academy’s other instructors in her eyes.

  She stood only eighth in line for the throne of Celgrad, with several brothers and sisters placed ahead of her in the line of succession, yet Octavia understood all too well that having more power was a great way to change minds.

  Earning the Professor’s favor was very important to her, as she recognized the rare opportunity before her. If she could distinguish herself as his most capable and reliable pupil, then she would place herself in a position to receive direct guidance from a man whose insight and command of magic stood far beyond that of ordinary instructors, perhaps even beyond what most would dare to imagine.

  Octavia lowered the letter slightly. "Inform Professor Valemont that I'll be skipping his class. I'm going to be paying Professor Ashford a visit."

  ***

  Octavia raised her hand and knocked on the door to Professor Ashford’s office. “Professor, may I come in?”

  “Of course. Please come in.”

  She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. This was her first time entering his office, and it immediately felt… newly used.

  Several stacks of books were arranged in uneven piles across nearby tables, as if someone had only recently begun sorting them. A few shelves were half filled, while others still stood mostly empty.

  The desk looked usable, but not fully set up yet. Papers were stacked neatly, but a few things were clearly out of place, like they had been put down for a moment and forgotten. One chair was slightly out of position, and a small cabinet door was left half open.

  “Ah, Princess Octavia,” Lucian said from behind the desk. “Please watch your step. I’m still rearranging a few things.”

  Octavia paused and glanced down, making sure she didn’t bump into anything. “I don’t mind at all, Professor. Thank you for the warning.”

  She carefully walked further into the room. Professor Ashford sat behind his desk just as she had expected. What she hadn’t expected, however, was that someone else was in the room with him.

  Leon was there as well, standing a short distance away. Octavia paused for only a fraction of a second. On reflection, she should have expected it. Professor Ashford had been the one to heal the boy, and Leon Belkov was not quite the same as the rest of the academy’s chaff.

  “Good afternoon, Your Highness,” Leon said, bowing respectfully.

  Octavia’s gaze shifted to him, her dulled vision focusing by instinct rather than intent. She assessed his mana core without letting anything show. It was brighter than that of most students, hovering around what she judged to be tier four, which was impressive, especially given his age.

  The damage, however, was impossible to ignore. Many cracks still ran through the mana core, likely remnants of his illness.

  She looked away before Leon noticed she was looking, and Professor Ashford asked, “Are you all right, Princess?”

  “Yes, Professor, thank you for your concern.”

  She moved forward and took the offered seat. Only after she had settled did Leon Belkov take his seat as well.

  “Thank you both for coming on such short notice,” Professor Ashford said, looking at the two of them. “I know this wasn’t exactly planned.”

  Leon straightened immediately. “Of course. I’m grateful you called for us.”

  Octavia inclined her head slightly. “It’s no inconvenience at all, Professor.”

  “Good. I asked the two of you to come here because I intend to offer each of you an apprenticeship under me. Of course, you’re under no obligation to accept. It will—”

  “I understand, Professor,” Leon said, cutting in politely. “And I’d be more than happy to accept.”

  Professor Ashford glanced at him briefly, then turned to Octavia. “And you, Princess?”

  “I accept,” Octavia replied without hesitation.

  “Excellent,” Lucian said with a satisfied nod. “Then let’s go over how this apprenticeship will work.”

  Octavia listened closely as Lucian explained how the apprenticeship would work, though most of it wasn’t new to her. She’d grown up with royal tutors who followed similar systems. Regular progress checks, performance standards, written reports, practical assessments, so this was all very familiar. Still, she listened without interrupting.

  Most of the administrative details followed standard academy procedure, but eventually, Professor Ashford arrived at what was clearly the true point of the meeting. “Now then, I believe what I’m about to tell you will be far more interesting.”

  Leon leaned forward. “What do you have in mind, Professor?”

  “As part of next month’s apprentice evaluation, I intend to take both of you into a dungeon.”

  Octavia’s composure slipped, if only slightly. “A dungeon? Aren’t they dangerous even for seasoned adventurers?”

  “Yes, I’m fully aware of the risks, but I'll be accompanying you both. Besides, genuine experience inside a dungeon will offer far more value than any controlled exercise ever could. It’s an excellent way to test your limits, especially considering that both of you are rather exceptional among the first years at this academy.”

  In practical terms, a dungeon was considered a naturally occurring magical anomaly, though calling it natural felt somewhat misleading. These zones formed when ambient mana condensed into unstable concentrations, reshaping entire environments into structures known as floors. Within them, monsters formed spontaneously, drawn into existence by the dungeon’s own self-sustaining magical ecosystem.

  Dungeons were unpredictable, volatile, and undeniably dangerous. And yet… after some thought, Octavia found herself wondering if maybe she truly was ready. She and Leon were already comparable to many trained adult mages in terms of raw power thanks to their magical talents after all. And in a worst case scenario, Professor Ashford could always step in.

  Leon, meanwhile, looked excited. “What kind of dungeon will we be going to? I've never actually seen one myself, so I’m quite excited.”

  “Ah, that will remain a secret. Can’t ruin the surprise now, can I?”

  Then, Professor Ashford reached into a neatly stacked pile of documents and withdrew several papers, placing them carefully on the desk between them. “However, before anything else, I do require both of you to sign these waivers.”

  Octavia leaned forward and started reading the document. She understood that the academy would want to be careful, but some of the clauses were so oddly specific that she couldn’t help raising an eyebrow.

  Clause twelve was one of the more amusing entries. It stated that the academy would not be held liable for any injuries resulting from a student’s attempt to befriend wild monsters. Something like “don’t try petting wild monsters” really should have been obvious, Octavia thought. But she supposed some idiot must have gotten hurt badly enough before for the academy to feel the need to put this particular warning in writing.

  The more she read, the more specific the rules became, covering so many unlikely situations that she had to stop herself from laughing. And by the time she finished, she was almost impressed. “Professor, I do intend to sign this. But are all of these clauses really necessary?”

  “The academy prefers not to take risks. So, yes, they are quite important.”

  Octavia let out a quiet snort as she signed her name, then looked up at him. “Even with this waiver, if anything happens to me, Professor… you will have quite a lot to deal with.”

  Professor Ashford chuckled. “Yes, I am aware."