After classes ended, I didn’t go back to my room. Instead of resting, I kept exploring the academy and tried to memorize its layout.
I had the map saved on my phone, but that didn’t help much. I still found the thing harder to navigate than an unfamiliar dungeon, so I decided to rely on my own memory instead. At least buildings didn’t move around or try to kill me.
The corridor ahead stretched across almost the entire floor. Heavy frames lined both walls, holding portraits of men and women dressed in uniforms, robes, or ornate armor. Probably important figures in the academy’s history. I didn’t recognize a single one.
History had never been one of my strengths. In the business, no one cared who founded some famous house two hundred years ago or who won a decisive battle. It was more useful to know which door was trapped and which person couldn’t be trusted.
Even so, I stopped in front of a few of the portraits. Not because I had suddenly developed an interest in family trees. I just didn’t want to remain someone who understood nothing beyond dungeons, weapons, and the cost of treating a deep wound. I wanted to learn from my past. Not repeat it.
So far, everything had gone according to plan, or at least as well as a first day at the academy reasonably could. I still had two places left to visit. The shopping center. And the cafeteria. Especially the cafeteria.
My stomach growled loudly enough that I instinctively glanced around to see if anyone had heard it. The corridor was empty.
It was already getting dark outside. The last of the daylight came through the tall windows and reflected off the polished floor, and when I passed an open passage leading to the courtyard, cool evening air drifted inside.
This time, hunger didn’t hurt. It wasn’t the familiar pressure in my stomach that reminded me my next meal might not come until tomorrow. It was anticipation.
According to Finn, the school cafeteria stayed open into the evening. That made the decision easy. The shopping center could wait. There were places to eat there too, but the academy provided students with basic meals for free. I saw no reason to spend coins on something I could get without them.
We had received a large amount when we enrolled, but money had an unpleasant habit of disappearing exactly when you needed it most. And I still had no idea how much I would be able to earn while studying here. There was no point wasting it.
Besides, my expectations weren’t high. In the business, you ate whatever happened to be available. Cold porridge. Hard bread. Meat whose origin was safer not to ask about. By definition, a school cafeteria couldn’t be much worse.
A wide sign reading CAFETERIA appeared around the next corner, with an open entrance leading into a spacious hall beneath it. There was almost no one inside. Long rows of tables stood empty, and the only sounds were the occasional clink of cutlery against a plate. Most of the serving counters already had their shutters down.
I stopped for a moment. I was too late.
Then I noticed a light at the far end of the hall. The last counter was still open. So Finn had been right.
Apparently, the opening hours could be found directly on the academy phone. After several attempts, I had failed to locate them. I had found my own rank, three different volume settings, and an application asking me to confirm something I didn’t understand. The opening hours, no.
I walked over to the final counter. An older woman in a white apron stood behind it. Despite being close to the end of her shift, she smiled as though I were the first student she had served all day.
“Still need dinner?”
I nodded. “Please.”
She gestured toward the menu board. “We have roast pork, celestial trout, chicken roulade, and vegetable pasta. You can choose your side.”
I stared at her for a moment. I could read the names. That didn’t mean I knew exactly what I would get. Celestial trout sounded either expensive or dangerous. Possibly both.
I didn’t want to hold her up with questions. No one was waiting behind me, but from the way she kept discreetly checking the clock on the wall, it was obvious she was ready to close. I pointed to the safest option.
“The pork. And potatoes.”
“Roasted, boiled, or mashed?”
I hesitated. There were unnecessarily many choices.
“Roasted.”
Her smile widened slightly, and within moments she placed a full plate in front of me. I thanked her and carried my tray into the dining hall.
Another group of students left while I was getting my food, leaving barely ten people in the entire room. I didn’t recognize a single face.
Except one.
Victoria.
She was sitting alone at a table near the tall windows. I slowed for a moment. I hadn’t expected to see her in the cafeteria.
People from the upper classes usually preferred the restaurants in the shopping center, and not only because of the better selection. Restaurants were useful places to make connections, arrange future cooperation, and remind everyone that you could afford food they couldn’t even pronounce.
Victoria wasn’t doing any of that. She was sitting alone in an almost empty school cafeteria with a plate of celestial trout and a cup of tea in front of her. Beside them sat another empty plate.
She wasn’t waiting for anyone. She had already finished it.
I looked away before she could notice me staring and chose a table several rows away, not directly across from her but not so far that the choice would look suspicious either. I set down my tray. Only then did I glance back in her direction.
In class, she had been surrounded constantly. Someone watched every look she gave, and every word she spoke was treated as an opportunity. Now no one was bothering her. Judging by her expression, she preferred it that way.
Her shoulders were relaxed, one elbow rested on the table, and she slowly turned her cup between the fingers of her other hand. She didn’t look like the heir to one of the most influential families in the country. She looked like a tired student who had finally found a moment when no one was talking to her.
Then she picked up the last piece of trout from the second plate. So, two portions. A satisfied expression appeared on her face. At that moment, she looked much less like the heir to a famous house. And annoyingly cute.
I had to lower my head to hide a smile. Maybe her Ability really had nothing to do with fighting. Maybe she could simply eat enough food to put an ordinary person in the hospital.
I almost laughed out loud. Rookie mistake.
I quickly turned my attention to my own plate. It was better not to attract attention anyway. That was how things worked in the business. People who spent too much time watching others eventually discovered that someone was watching them.
I speared the first potato. A safe choice. I had eaten enough potatoes in my life to recognize a badly prepared one before taking the first bite. The surface and the resistance against a fork were usually enough.
This one gave slightly beneath the prongs.
Crunch.
Crisp on the outside. Soft inside. Not mushy or dried out.
I stopped chewing for a moment. Whoever had made this definitely cared about what the students were eating. I took another. Then a third. Suddenly, I understood why Victoria had needed two portions.
The meat was even better. When I pressed my fork into it, juices rose to the surface and mixed with the seasoning. The smell was strong enough to make my stomach remind me it was there even though I was already eating.
I cut off the first piece. For a moment, I wondered whether it was even possible for this to come from the same kind of animal as all the pork I had eaten before. Maybe the cooks really did use magic. It would make more sense than some of the things I had seen today.
The meat was tender, and the juices mixed with the last potatoes on the plate. I ate more slowly than usual.
In the business, you finished food as quickly as possible. You never knew when you would have to get up or when someone might decide your portion belonged to them instead. No one was taking anything from me here. No one was shouting. No one was watching the doors. I could simply sit and eat.
That felt stranger than the simulation hall.
Maybe this could become my new standard. Hot meals. A clean room. A place where I didn’t have to sleep with one eye open. All I had to do was graduate from the academy. Simple.
Except that I hadn’t enrolled willingly, I had one of the lowest ranks in the year, and there were still people who would rather lock me in a laboratory. The food seemed to lose some of its flavor.
I set down my fork. No. Not today.
The meal was in front of me. The doors were still open. And right now, no one was doing anything to me. That was enough.
I finished the last bite and carried my tray to the return window. The older cook was already closing the serving counter.
“Was it good?”
“Yes.” I hesitated. “Very.”
Her smile looked almost as satisfied as my stomach felt.
“Then come earlier tomorrow. We’ll have desserts too.”
Desserts. Another reason to survive the second day of school.
“I will.”
On my way to the door, I glanced once more toward the windows. Victoria was still sitting in the same place, slowly drinking her tea.
This time, she was looking directly at me.
Our eyes met for a moment. She didn’t smile. She didn’t frown either. She simply raised her cup slightly, as though offering a quiet greeting.
I had no idea how long she had known I was sitting there. I gave her a small nod. Then I turned and left.
Today had gone better than I expected.
And tomorrow there would be desserts.