After stopping Cyril's outburst, Monica returned to her room in the dormitory, and by the time she finished writing the report to submit to Louis, dawn had completely fallen.

Back when she was living in a mountain cabin, staying up all night was an everyday occurrence, but since she has been living a regular life for a while now, she was feeling heavy-headed.

After walking dizzily to class, having been given another scolding for a bad haircut by Lana, fighting sleepiness throughout the class, Monica dragged her feet to the student council room.

No one seemed to have arrived at the student council room yet. Apparently, Monica was the first to arrive today.

Monica briefly cleaned the student council room as Cyril had taught her, restocked the supplies, and opened the ledger.

Usually, looking at the numbers would make her become more awake, but right now she couldn't get the numbers into her head at all.

I see. I've been using a lot of magic yesterday… I don't have enough sugar…

Monica, who was not fussy about eating, always consumes only the minimum amount of food.

For breakfast, she had a piece of bread leftover from dinner and coffee. For lunch, she brought some nuts and water. Normally, this would be enough for her, but after the day of using a lot of magic, that's still not enough for her.

Performing magic takes a lot of energy. Therefore, many magicians are said to have sweet tooth.

Monica rummaged in her pockets for something to eat, but there was nothing to eat since she had eaten all the nuts at lunch.

Just a little more patience until the student council work is done… so she told herself, but Monica gave in to sleepiness and plopped down at her desk.

＊ ＊ ＊

While Monica plopped down sleeping on the ledger, someone opened the door to the student council room.

The door was opened by the vice president, Cyril Ashley.

He was the second person to arrive at the student council room, and when he noticed Monica sleeping on her desk, he raised his eyebrows.

He almost opened his mouth to yell at Monica, but… kept his mouth shut.

"………"

He unconsciously silencing his footsteps walked up to the desk, then looked down at Monica's figure.

——She's sure a small girl.

Her scrawny little body didn't look like that of a seventeen-year-old girl.

Her complexion was always pale, and her eyes, which could be brown or green depending on the light, were always downcast in fear.

Without any noble grace or beauty, she was just a dull girl who could be found anywhere.

Cyril stared down at Monica's right hand, which was still holding the quill.

At Serendia Academy, gloves are part of the uniform. Most of the girls wear custom-made gloves, usually with lace or ribbons around the edges, but Monica's gloves were white and unadorned.

The gloves were not the right size, or perhaps there was a little too big. That's how small her hands were. Just like a child's.

"………"

Cyril gently picked the quill out of Monica's hand and put it back in the quill holder.

The moment the quill was taken out of her hand, Monica's right hand lost its strength, allowing her fingertips to glide across the desk.

Cyril covered Monica's right hand with his own as if to ascertain the smallness of her hand…

"Oh, Cyril. You're already here, aren't you?"

The moment he heard Felix's voice from behind, Cyril jumped away from the desk like a grasshopper.

"Your Highness, you're wrong, this little girl is napping in the sacred student council room, so I thought I'd wake her up! Come on, wake up, you little girl!!"

Cyril smacked Monica's head with his right hand, which he lifted unnaturally.

Monica, who had been plopped down on the desk, raised her upper body with a muffled grunt and looked up at Cyril with eyes that were still mildly sleepy.

"…Loord Asshuley?"

"H-Humph, what's with the stupid face? You're in the presence of His Highness! Stand up straight!"

"…9129, 14771, 23900, 38671, 62571, 101242, 163813…"

"Speak in Human language!"

When Cyril clutched Monica's head in a tremble, but Monica only stared up at Cyril's face and…  smiled widely.

"… not cold anymore… that's a relief…"

Cyril's dark blue eyes widened and the hand that was trembling on Monica's head stopped. Unconsciously, his hand had touched the brooch on his lapel.

When Cyril's mouth was opening and closing as he was about to say something, Felix's hand reached out from the side and… shoved one of the cookies into Monica's mouth.

In a drowsy stupor, Monica bit down on a cookie, crispily.

Felix shoved a piece of the cookie, which was gradually getting smaller from the edges, into Monica's mouth, then took out another new cookie and brought it closer to Monica's mouth.

After noticing the cookie pressing against her lips, Monica was still dazedly proceeded to bite into the second cookie.

"Interesting. She's half asleep, but her mouth is moving."

"Um, Y-Your Highness…"

"Do you want to try it too, Cyril?"

His tone of voice sounded as if he was inviting someone to interact with his pet, but Cyril refused it, shaking his head.

Just as Felix about to pick the third cookie on his hand, Monica's head snapped up and her eyes opened slightly.

Monica rubbed her eyes and mumbled something in an indistinct voice as if she had just woken up from sleep.

At this time, Monica was thinking about the report she had stayed up all night writing.

For Monica, writing reports was one of the tasks she was very bad at.

I hope Louis wouldn't get mad at me… was what all Monica could think about, and the young man yelling at her in front of her seemed to overlap with Louis Miller.

So she was saying.

"Congratulations on your wife's pregnancy!"

"Who are you talking about?!"

To the shouting Cyril, Felix softly said.

"Cyril, who is it? You have to take responsibility for your actions, okay?"

"Ah, Your Highness! No, it's a misunderstanding. This little girl is just talking nonsense in her sleep…!"

There was Cyril who's shouting with bloodshot eyes, Felix who's smiling happily, and Monica who's still dozed off.

No one had noticed this, but that scene caused Neil, the fourth boy who arrived at the student council room, to pause at the entrance with a troubled look on his face.