Ch. 1 - Crown Princess of Azalea

The Spring Country, Azalea had rapidly grown to become the most literate country in the recent years. Since the late queen's, Queen Celine's, decision to develop an academy open to all classes, genders, and races, the kingdom of Azalea had experienced never-ending blessings. The Queen had great empathy for people and on top of that she had a greater love for learning.

From nobility to commoners, everyone got their chance to climb the ladders, and equally, nobles grew more competitive to set the standards higher so that they wouldn't be overcome. It was a natural procession the Queen foresaw.

There were a select few nobles however, those, despite the amount of work they put in, whose efforts proved futile. No matter how hard they tried, they didn't excel in any area of academia, but their parents had enough money to keep them in school. Otherwise, their sons and daughters would be regarded lower than a commoner, ridiculed into social exile.

This group was known as the Jesters. They were grouped together in a single remedial class, known to the rest of the school as the lowest ranked students.

Within the Jesters, unknowingly, was a girl scribbling at the corners of her notebook, Queen Celine's granddaughter herself, Crown Princess of Azalea, Princess Naomi.

"Naomi."

Naomi erased the face doodle she had severely disfigured from the corner of her notebook. It was to resemble the sour face of her teacher, but with Naomi's limited drawing skills she looked more constipated.

"Naomi!"

Naomi swiped at her paper to clear the dust from her desk and resumed sketching.

"NAOMI!" A loud slam interrupted Naomi's concentration. She flinched and closed her eyes.

"Naomi, would you be able to tell us what neighboring countries are allied with Azalea?"

Naomi thought for a second, even prayed for the answer to come to her, perhaps, for the small voice of her private tutor to come through at the time, but nothing. Naomi slowly opened her eyes to meet with the fury of her teacher's gaze, sour expression erased like her doodle.

"The three neighboring countries of Azalea are the Kingdoms of Forsythia, Quince, and Camellia. They're named after the three goddesses of the Forgotten Tribes."

"Correct."

Naomi was impressed by the answer, but the answer wasn't hers. The voice came from behind her. She turned around and a boy wearing a smug gaze nodded in her direction. He had a blank expression, but his eyes stayed pointed. Naomi could practically see the arrogance oozing out of them.

From his dark, sleek hair and pale, dull complexion he looked like he was from the Winter Country, Forsythia. It was rare for students to come from Forsythia, so he immediately stuck out.

"Actually, they weren't the goddesses of the tribes, just the three mothers that began the lineage of..." Naomi began to correct the student's answer, but she remembered that any information about the Forgotten Tribes was inaccessible to everyone but royalty.

She drawled her last word before laughing it off, "I mean they were named after the type of women you can meet in each country. Each season, different women. Am I right?"

The class laughed at Naomi's answer. Her teacher glared at her and clicked her tongue.

"How distasteful." The class fell silent at the remark, but there wasn't much time for the tension to grow, when the bell rang indicating the end of the lecture.

Naomi hurried to pack her things, but before she could escape, her teacher called her up.

"Naomi. Damien. Stay behind. We have to talk."

Naomi lowered her head and pretended to rummage through her bag. Perhaps delaying the scolding would make it less harsh, but when she turned around, she was only met with the impatient stare of both her teacher and the other student that was called with her, the Forsythian student who had answered for her.

His name was Damien.

"Miss Labelle, I can explain. You see the joke—" Naomi approached them slowly, but Miss Labelle wasn't having it. She clicked her tongue and slammed on her desk.

"I fear you're going to need much more than a flighty explanation if you want to graduate this spring, Naomi." Miss Labelle held a glare as she crossed her arms.

Naomi recoiled at her words. It took a moment to sink in, but as soon as it did the looming sense of doom hit her.

"Graduation? I am set to graduate this year, right?" Naomi laughed nervously, hoping what her teacher had just brought up was some petty impractical joke. At least she hoped it was.

"You were set to graduate, but after what happened last week and today, the question gets blurry real quickly."

She felt a punch to her gut.

"Miss Labelle, we talked about this already!"

The topic of graduation was always a sensitive topic for Naomi, especially after everything that has happened to her. To say the least Naomi was one of the worst students of the academy, but she also made sure that she was going to reach that finish line everyone called graduation.

"Uh!Uh! I want you to listen! You're barely passing your classes, and your behavioral and etiquette points are well under graduation requirements. I might as well have marked you down today, but your track records are already unforgiving. Naomi! It's time you stop depending on your wealth and position!"

Naomi gasped, "I have never depended on such petty things!"

It was true to a certain extent. Naomi never depended on her wealth to excel in anything. She wouldn't be in the situation she was in if she did.

"Naomi! You caused an explosion in the science lab just last week! If what you say is true, you'd actually feel the weight of your actions. Has your guilt ever kept you up at night? Have you even thought back to that incident at least once and felt sorry?"

Naomi was taken aback. She'd never thought of it that way.

"Miss Labelle, you know I'd never do that on purpose—"

"On purpose or not, you've messed up and it's time you take responsibility." Miss Labelle leaned closer to Naomi and lowered her voice, "Your debut reputation is on the line, Naomi. I've always admired your character as a person, but you won't go far in life without discipline."

Naomi sulked, sinking lower. How was she supposed to improve her academics? Her low ranking was largely due to her low attendance, which was completely out of her control.

Just last week, she hadn't been able to attend the lab safety lecture which led to the disaster in the science lab.

Besides, she had more important duties to attend to, duties of the Crown Princess and such.

Aside from her family, most people didn't know that Naomi was the Crown Princess of Azalea, granddaughter of Queen Celine, at least until she is to make her debut when she turns eighteen years old. That means she only had until her debut to get her reputation proper and respectable.

Or else she'd be remembered as the dunce queen-to-be.

Regarding the time she had left, she had a little over a year. She'd be debuting a little soon after graduation. From then on she'd be fast-forwarding her way to becoming the best Queen she could be.

However, the challenge the Queen assigned her was proving more difficult than she had expected. She'd always thought she could live the double life as a student and Crown Princess. She'd even begged for it—for the sake of her youth, but day by day she'd regretted her will to go her own path.

Not only was her reputation unsuitable for an heiress, but she was also well-known in the academy. Naomi was outspoken, and people naturally learned of her eccentricities.

It had been difficult to live a quiet life.

"What am I supposed to do, Miss Labelle?" Naomi whispered back, desperate.

Miss Labelle sighed, pulling away, "There is always a way when there's a will. If there's one thing you have, Naomi, you have the will. Whatever it takes, polish your reputation. It's time you grow up."

"Grow up... I thought I had been." A heaviness weighed on Naomi's chest. It's the type that made her want to melt into a puddle and simply cease existing.

Miss Labelle stared at Naomi with pity in her eyes. It was due time for Naomi to face reality. At the very least she knew that. She gave in, "I understand."

Satisfied at Naomi's response, Miss Labelle refocused her attention away from the sullen Naomi and turned to the Forsythian student next to them.

He had been side-eyeing them with a blatant sneer.

"I am also talking to you, Damien. Both of your situations are not that different. So please, take my word seriously. The noble society will not be kind to you once you are out of academia."

Damien looked ashy gray, like a ghost almost, until Miss Labelle took his hands in hers.

He tried to hide the look of disgust, but clearly it showed. Naomi couldn't help but notice it, but she held in a remark.

"If you're finished, could I head out now?" Damien asked as he shook his teacher's hands off and turned his head away. The second he turned back he had recovered his deadpan.

"You may if you fully grasp the gravity of your situation." Miss Labelle crossed her arms sternly, "There are strange rumors that'd been going around you, Damien. I believe you are aware of what they are already."

Damien stayed blank, "I'm also aware all of them are baseless."

"Baseless or not, if you debut in high society with that mindset you'd find yourself with a lot of enemies. Damien, is that what you want?"

"I'm not a fool who'd want anything as such."

"I know you're not. Even so, you must try. Spare just a little bit of effort."

Damien turned away again, and though he looked indifferent a tinge of resolve flashed through the hazel in his eyes. "I don't have time for this. Please do make haste."

"Very well," Miss Labelle sighed, "At nine in the morning tomorrow both of you should head to the Grand Library. Enter together, and you will meet someone who will help you out."

Naomi turned to Damien. Her body deflated into a curtsey as she tried to put on a simple polite smile, "I guess, I'll see you tomorrow."

Damien only cleared his throat, as he looked down towards Naomi. He didn't return Naomi's gaze though, not even for a single second. Naomi could feel the disgust oozing out of him. She didn't even need him to return her gaze to know so.

Then he walked off, his steps steady.