Meeting

The moment the girl’s face came into full view, Selina’s steady breathing faltered.

A deep, soul-stirring familiarity washed over her. Even after five years apart, she recognized her instantly—Lydia.

She longed to call out the name, to rush forward and ruffle the girl’s soft hair as she once did.

But reason restrained her. Her body reminded her that she was no longer Kant, and Lydia had grown taller, her features matured.

The little girl Selina had raised no longer needed her to bend down to meet her gaze; now, she’d have to look up.

Five years had changed Lydia—she was healthier, more mature, clearly not starving in Selina’s absence.

Words surged in Selina’s chest, but Lydia’s flowing black hair grounded her in reality. She was Selina Garland now, not Kant.

Approaching Lydia would only cause confusion and trouble.

Not yet, she told herself, lowering her head, her black hair veiling her face, hiding her emotions.

She passed Lydia, the breeze carrying a familiar scent that drew a helpless, bitter smile in the shadows.

Life pushed people forward. This abrupt encounter didn’t unsettle her; seeing Lydia healthy and thriving was enough.

As long as Lydia didn’t dwell on Kant’s death, her talent and beauty promised a bright future.

Goodbye, Lydia. I’m glad to see you, but I can’t meet you as your master. You’re living well, and I, once Kant, must move on.

The past was precious, but the future demanded progress. Selina was now Selina Garland, with Felicia and Karina counting on her. As their figures drifted apart, Lydia suddenly turned at the principal’s office door. “Wait…”

Her voice froze Selina in place.

Composing herself, she lifted her head, brushing back her silver hair to reveal a calm, radiant face, her emerald eyes clear and bright.

“You’re Selina, right?” Lydia asked, studying her as if piecing together a memory.

“Yes, Senior. May I ask why you stopped me?” Selina replied, her smile polite but distant, exuding a refined aloofness that felt natural, not forced.

“Nothing much. You seemed familiar. I saw you in the exam’s magical projection. Your magic use during the crisis impressed me,” Lydia said, her tone warm.

“Is that so? Thank you for your attention,” Selina responded, nodding courteously, maintaining a measured distance.

“No need to thank me. Your performance makes passing the exam a sure thing. We’ll be schoolmates soon, so I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Lydia, a third-year student. Call me Senior Lydia if you’d like,” she said, her friendliness unusual for someone known for being reserved.

“Nice to meet you, Senior,” Selina said, her smile polite yet unapproachable, sensing Lydia’s attempt to bridge the gap. As someone who knew Lydia better than anyone, Selina could tell her warmth was forced. She wasn’t here to play familiar.

Lydia’s smile faltered at the formal address.

Glancing at the principal’s door, she offered an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I have business with the principal, so I can’t chat long. If you run into trouble on campus, come find me.”

“Thank you, Senior,” Selina replied succinctly, her demeanor that of a cool, elegant noble.

As they parted, Lydia entered the office, and Selina lingered, still caught in the emotional undertow.

Inside, Melianne noticed Lydia’s unease, her violet eyes curious. “What’s wrong? You seem off.”

“It’s nothing, Principal. I just met a junior who felt… familiar,” Lydia said, shaking her head, forcing a smile.

She couldn’t explain the strange ache that surfaced upon seeing Selina—a mix of grief and longing, as if someone long gone had reappeared. Yet, Selina’s unfamiliar face made the feeling absurd.

“Selina, you say?” Melianne asked, intrigued. How do these two, worlds apart, feel familiar? And that emotion doesn’t seem fake.

“It’s probably just lack of rest,” Lydia dismissed, shifting topics. “About the campus tournament this semester…”

At the stairwell landing, Selina’s composure crumbled once Lydia’s presence faded.

Her legs gave out, but Ceris, her maid, caught her swiftly. “Your Highness, are you alright?” Ceris asked, alarmed, seeing Selina’s sweat-drenched face.

“I’m fine… just tired from last night,” Selina murmured, struggling to stand. Ceris, refusing to let her strain herself, held her tightly and hurried toward the campus exit.

In Ceris’s arms, Selina gave a wry smile, chiding herself.

Pathetic, Selina. One meeting, and you’re this shaken? You’re as fragile as a delicate princess flower, regressing with every step. But deep down, she whispered, It’s good to see you so healthy and happy, Lydia. Truly good.