Dylan fidgeted anxiously with her jacket in the area behind the auditorium stage. As the first-year student representative, she was required to give a short speech during the ceremony.

In the novel, the only first-year to originally be granted a Red Coat was His Highness, the Crown Prince. Prince Caspian de Oberon was said to be a skilled swordsman with a sharp intelligence, ranking first out of all first-year students. He was also the male lead, managing to win Grisa's heart and affection over every other man who was interested in her.

Due to his childhood—since Caspian was constantly competing with his siblings for everything—he developed an obsessive personality. He always felt the need to claim what was his and didn't like other people touching his belongings. This included Grisa, as well.

'He might just kill me for taking the top position.'

The headmaster spoke from the podium: "A very warm welcome to each and every one of you. At last, this beautiful day has arrived. I am sure you all have been eagerly waiting for this day."

As Dylan listened to the headmaster's speech, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

The source of the sound had a towering height that made Dylan appear much smaller than she was. The young man stared at her with grey slit eyes of silver-fire, the dark bags beneath them making him look like he hadn't slept in days. His hair was as dark as flowing ink and fell over his forehead elegantly. He was extremely handsome.

'Ha, I know who this insomniac bastard is.'

"I pray for the glory of the empire and the blessing of the gods to the Crown Prince. I am Dylan de Beaumon, the first Lady of the Beaumon household offering you my gre-"

"You can skip the greetings," he said in a cold tone, his silver eyes scrutinizing her appearance. "Are you the first-year representative?"

Dylan nodded, but remained silent.

"I see," he said, his gruff voice deep enough to send shivers down Dylan's spine. "What are your majors?"

Dylan was highly tempted to shout something along the lines of "leave me alone", but she clenched her jaw tightly and bit down on her lips.

"Arithmetics and natural sciences, Your Highness."

"I see." He answered in the same gruff voice without sounding pleased in the least.

"What brings His Highness here?" Dylan asked impatiently.

"I'm here to judge whether or not you are worthy of taking my place."

His straightforwardness took her aback. Caspian was a character who liked when everything was in his reach. It was only natural for him to be curious about who stole his position as student representative.

Before she could reply to his remark, the Prince stepped forward, his long fingers gently touching the fabric of her jacket. He began to fasten the top button, which had been left unintentionally undone. Her body tingled where she felt his breath against the top of her head. He was close enough for her to feel the warmth of his skin.

'He's too close.'

"W, wait," she stuttered, surprised at the sudden contact. "What are you-"

Before she could think, she instinctively pushed him away, aghast. Caspian's eyes snapped wide with shock, as if he only just realized what he had done. In the dim lighting, the Prince's cheeks seemed to be flushed a slight shade of red.

"Ah, my apologies." He sounded a bit shy. "It was undone, so I instinctively reached out to fix it. It is unbefitting for my replacement to not be properly attired."

Dylan's heart was beating loud enough for the entire auditorium to hear.

"Now, please welcome the first-year student representative," The headmaster said from the stage. "Dylan de Beaumon."

"I, I have to..." She turned, unable to meet his gaze. "Excuse me."

'This is bad. I really need to stay away from the main characters.'

***

Dylan threw herself over the green grass with a short groan. At the Duke's mansion, she was forced to act with perfect etiquette. From the way she talked to the way she ate—her actions had to be perfect and polished.

As a light breeze blew pleasantly through the grass, Dylan closed her eyes and gave a genuine smile. The feeling of her curls fluttering in the wind was liberating. Only then did she realize how badly she had been suffocating at the Duke's residence.

Her speech went smoothly, but it was hard to ignore the hostile eyes of the other students. She was a commoner turned noble and was granted a Red Coat. It was only natural for them to look at her like that.

Laying in a patch of grass, hiding away from everyone else, was something she wanted to make a pastime. From the gentle kiss of the sun to the whispering cool breeze, everything was perfect. No. It had been perfect.

'If only he didn't follow me here from the auditorium.'

"Ha, you really are vulgar."

A young man stared at Dylan's appearance with a displeased look. She knew, just from his expression, that he hated her.

The brunette, young-looking man's sharp appearance and handsome features definitely stood out from the other students.

'As expected of a second male lead.'

"Hello, brother."

Axil's shoulders tensed at her calling him brother. Dylan turned her head away from him, biting her lips in an attempt to control a rising fit of laughter. Now was truly not the time to laugh.

"You don't like me, do you?" asked Dylan.

The young man was silent for a while. Dylan waited patiently until he spoke, not asking anymore.

He sighed, finally opening his mouth to speak: "Of course I don't like you. Your blood is dirty."

Dylan's expression ran through a series of emotions: angry, sad, confused and angry again. Noble blood or not, at the end of the day, we all bleed red.

"Blood in the human body is red regardless of where it came from," she said, rising to her feet with an expression of annoyance. "If you don't like me, then leave me alone."

Axil's eyes widened with shock. "Just now, what did you say with that dirty mouth of yours?"

"I said leave me alone," she repeated, louder. "You don't like me and I don't like you. There's no reason for us to cross paths, so stop following me around. It's honestly annoying."

"What?" Axil asked in bewilderment, but then snapped his mouth shut.

'Ha, you didn't think I would just stand here and let you talk down to me, did you?'

Sweeping his brown hair away, he said: "It's your fault for coveting a position that's not yours so openly. You'll never be a Beaumon. You're just a filthy girl playing dress-up with my father's money. I'm the one who was wronged here, so don't act innocent."

"Ha, you were wronged?"

"Yes," he said, "since a filthy nobody came into my house and started leeching off my family's fortune."

Dylan lowered her head, pretending to be affected by his words. Her long golden hair flowed down like a waterfall, covering her cheeks stained with crocodile tears.

"Ha, are you crying?"

"I'm sorry," she replied in barely just a whisper. "Your father, he just... he came when I had nowhere to go but my mother's grave. I didn't know taking his hand would make you so angry. I should've just died with my mother."

Axil's eyes softened with an indescribable series of emotions. Whether he hated her or was obsessed with her, he was blind to the fact that her tears made him both angry and sad.

'If you want to play victim, then I will too. In the novel, you were weak against Grisa's tears. Let's see if you can still say the same things to me now.'

Confused, he tried to gently brush the hair covering her face to the side but quickly withdrew his hand as if his fingers had touched something dirty.

"Stop, someone might see and get the wrong idea. I didn't mean to—"

"How pathetic." Dylan wiped her tears, her pitiful face contorting with a smirk.

'Unfortunately for you, I'm no heroine.'

"Wh-what!? You, just now, were you pretending!?"

Dylan's eyes flashed with hostility. "Tell me, brother. Since I'm so vulgar, it's only right that I act like it, right? If you're so obsessed with me being a bad person, then should I satisfy your obsession?"

Slap! Axil's calloused palm against her cheek stung.

"Watch what you say," he said with clenched teeth. "You're disgusting."

As expected, Dylan's predicaments were right, once again. In the novel, Axil de Beaumon's behaviour was characterized by aggression. He often lashed out and abused the maids, but pointed fingers at Dylan when she did it too. He had some sort of twisted mindset where he believed that he was the only one allowed to hurt his people.

'I only wanted to rile you up to see what I was dealing with. This, however, couldn't have turned out better for me...'

"Just what is happening here?" A soft, but stern voice called out from behind him.

Dylan glanced up, eyes welling over with fake tears. A single one escaped, running down her cheek as she blinked her big brown eyes innocently.

"Just now," the girl said with an irritated expression. "Did you just slap the student representative?"

'Finally... I get to meet the heroine.'



AUTHOR'S NOTE:

What did you guys think about the Crown Prince?

Also, in chapter eleven, you get to see Dylan's personality show for the first time. Isn't our main character badass?