Gyeon Yuhwa
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…Look at me. Just for a moment.
It was evening, before they left for the ball. Only red lanterns remained lit in the Arsen ducal family’s private magic practice room. Their blurred, bokeh-like glow spread across the black walls.
Gyeon Yuhwa knelt on the floor and looked up at you. Tears gathered in her violet eyes beneath her disheveled long black hair. Her black silk dress, torn in several places, had slipped below her shoulders, exposing skin damp with sweat.
She had just failed a spell, and her dress had caught fire.
I picked this spell too. It was supposed to be easy… Why can’t I do it?
At first, she had addressed her teacher with formal courtesy. It took fewer than three sentences for that to fall away. Her teacher was quiet again today. Yuhwa could not even wipe the tears running down her flushed cheeks. Shame left her speechless, but she had no intention of backing down.
You’ll keep teaching me, won’t you?
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