“An unauthorised duel, utterly unrestrained, surrounded by unsuspecting students, completely against the rules and in the middle of a practice hall. What were you thinking?”

Mireille was stunned. She never expected to be called to the principal's office on the first day. She even less expected to be called twice on the first day.

“Yuela, I expected better of you,” said Principal Priscelia, her eyes dimmed with disapproval. “Under no circumstances should you have allowed your classmate to engage in such reckless behaviour.”

Yuela's head dropped.

“It was my mistake. I apologise.”

“Eeh?” Tabitha took a step forwards. “H-Hang on, why are you apologising? You're not the one who blew up the roof. it was totally my fault, right?”

“Nobody said it wasn't,” said Principal Priscelia. “You will be expected to bear the brunt of the punishment. Every window shattered. A hole in the ceiling the size of a bull. You are fortunate nobody was gravely injured from the falling debris, to speak nothing of the magic you chose to weave within close proximity of so many people. Your classmates are not guiltless in this debacle, however. They should have stopped you. Each one of them was present to witness the destruction.”

Unlike the first meeting early in the day, they were not gathered in a huddle around the centre of the room. Principal Priscelia was seated behind her desk while Mirielle, Yuela, Tabitha and Coco faced her in a more or less straight line. The final accomplice to the chaos was not present.

“This . . . Katrina Mainz.” Principal Priscelia rifled through the booklet on her desk. “There is no such student by that name attending St. Florin's Academy.”

“W-Wait, we're telling the truth!” said Tabitha. “She really was there!”

“I'm not doubting she was,” replied Principal Priscelia, her eyebrows locked in a permanent crease. “I have more witness testimonies than I know what to do with, and none of them helpful in identifying who this supposed Katrina Mainz is. A girl with roses in her hair? An umbrella? A red handbag? I am sadly unable to recall the fashion accessories of my students on demand . . . and yet I have a disquieting notion that no student by that description may be found within these walls. Not now, at any rate.”

Principal Priscelia placed her elbows on her desk, then leaned her chin on her hands.

“. . . Good grief. Now I must contend with the prospect of outsiders in academy uniform wandering the corridors, for whatever reason that may be occurring. If I'm lucky, this Katrina Mainz is nothing more than a student whose name was lost somewhere in the mire of enrolment bureaucracy.”

“She called herself The Princess of Poverty,” said Mirielle, unsure if that constituted helpful information. “She didn't look out of place here. I think she was the same age as us.”

It was the faintest of movements, but Principal Priscelia's shoulders stiffened.

If Mirielle noticed, she was sure that everyone else had, too.

Was The Princess of Poverty a well-known title in circles of nobility? But if it was, why hadn't Yuela reacted to it? She couldn't even remember having ever met Katrina, despite the girl's assertion they'd once previously been introduced.

Who was Katrina Mainz?

If she wasn't a student, why was she here? Where was she now?

“The matter of this missing student is not your concern,” said Principal Priscelia, who as if reading Mireille's mind put a halt to any musings not to do with the impending punishment. “The fact that one of the collaborators in this wanton destruction of academy property is absent does not lessen the individual reprimands you will receive. I am extremely disappointed that I must be having this conversation, particularly as I was hoping to have an altogether different one with you at this very time.”

The grim silence which greeted her was punctuated by a hint of puzzlement.

“I understand from your instructor that you combated a phantasm,” she continued, her tone losing some of its edge, even if her eyes remained as keen as daggers. “I was speaking with Olivia no less than a few minutes ago. Be thankful she's not present to add to this meeting. Although I expect she will have her own words to say to you all concerning this practice hall incident before long.”

A cold sweat ran down Mirielle's back. In her mind, all she saw were shrubberies filled with thorns, and a very toilsome gardening session in the future.

“However . . . putting your punishments aside for the moment, it would be remiss of me not to offer my thoughts on Olivia's report. Firstly, I will thank you for safely retrieving her. She had no business being in Garnet District, and had I known why she was playing tourist in the mountains, I would never have requested you go. I would, in fact, have secured her myself.”

Principal Priscelia eyed each of the classmates in turn, then rested her sights on Yuela.

“Olivia claims you informed her that a hunting phantasm was vanquished by your hands. Is this true?”

“It's true,” said Yuela without preamble. “It was considerable in size and displayed intelligence. I believe it may have personally bore the tunnel which it was destroyed in.”

Principal Priscelia sat back in her chair. She rolled her fingertips on her desk before speaking.

“. . . Four students on the morning of enrolment, with limited combat experience, eliminating a phantasm which had eluded the Garnet Knights for untold weeks . . . perhaps months. I cannot say that this feat does not deserve significant praise.”

It looked like The Silver Aurelia was threatening to offer the tiniest nod of approval. Fortunately, Tabitha was there to save the wintry atmosphere.

“U-Um, actually, it was three . . .”

“Excuse me, Miss Holtsen?”

“Weeell . . . I wasn't really involved . . . bump on the head and all . . . they killed it without me.”

“Is that so? What a shame. Perhaps if you'd expended some of your destructive urges earlier in the day, you would have spared a thought for the gargantuan expenses that you've thrust upon me.”

Tabitha's body quaked with fear.

“Um . . . a-about that . . . I can pay you back . . . but it'll take a while . . . uh, I'll get a part-time job, no, wait, I'll quit school get a full-time job, and I'll—”

“Stop.” Principal Priscelia held up her hand. “Please think before you speak. You should at least strive to achieve that if you cannot think before you act. It is not your responsibility to pay for damages done to academy property. Be grateful, as this is what my treasurer exists for.”

Tabitha looked like she wanted to fold over and cry tears of joy. Whoever the academy's treasurer was, they'd found a new best friend.

Granted, the relationship likely wasn't mutual.

“Continuing what I was saying, I would like to offer recognition for the efforts you as a class displayed in triumphing over a phantasm which even your instructor felt the need to investigate. I will not rebuke you for engaging it, as others in my position may do. Olivia has described enough of the phantasm's characteristics for me understand that you likely weren't traversing its hunting grounds in the name of earning accolades.”

“Our only intention was to search for Oliv . . . Instructor Barinette. Although we were cautioned by the district's knights that a phantasm was possibly sighted in the mountains, we remained committed to fulfilling your orders.”

“Did you not feel it prudent to withdraw after being cautioned that a phantasm may be active in the area?”

“My judgement was that the mere possibility of a phantasm was inconsequential. Combating phantasms is an expected part of a district knight's duty.”

Principal Priscelia stopped tapping the desk. She looked hard at Yuela.

“Yes, Yuela. A district knight. You are a student. And a student at an academy where overachieving is not merited. Diligence, discretion, and the willingness to step back and contextualise your situation is. Knight cadets have this luxury. Do you understand?”

“. . . I do.”

Principal Priscelia offered a curt nod. She once more eyed each of the classmates before her, including Tabitha.

“Your result against the phantasm is of sufficient distinction to be worth noting on your military records. Should you pursue a career in the Carnelian Knights, this will further your ambitions. It does not, however, count against the punishments you will receive for your actions, or inactions, concerning the unauthorised duel. I am merely recognising both your accomplishments and your infractions.”

Everyone nodded. They waited for their judgements.

“Yuela. Coco. Miss Kloeter. Miss Holtsen. You are to assist the Voluntary Committee for a period of at least five hours per week. This will continue until you have individually accumulated one hundred extracurricular hours' worth of service. Miss Holtsen, you are also provisionally suspended for the remainder of the year.”

Voluntary service.

Mireille tried not letting her relief show. She would be picking up rubbish from the courtyard. That was all. As long as her punishment didn't explicitly involve performing any gardening services for Olivia, she was overjoyed to accept her fate.

At the same time, Tabitha tilted her head.

“Sooo . . . I'm not actually suspended?”

Yuela's fists curled up. Mirielle wondered whether her length of voluntary service would be reduced or increased if she decked Tabitha in front of the principal.

“You're provisionally suspended,” said Principal Priscelia flatly. “Should any incidents of major concern be brought to my attention, you will be expelled from this academy.”

“. . . Meaning that I'm not being kicked out? I'm saved?”

“Tabitha,” said Yuela, unable to withhold speaking out of turn. “Please be quiet. For the rest of time.”

Principal Priscelia didn't rebuke Yuela. On the contrary, she seemed to pretend she didn't hear.

“This is a delicate time in relations between witches and the people at large,” she said, answering Tabitha. “My greater concern is unifying the many interesting and many opinionated individuals of this city. No matter how it is well, well within my rights to do so, I have no wish to mark the day witches were permitted to enrol at St. Florin's Academy by throwing one out. The windows, the roof, and the impending tears of my treasurer can all be forgotten. A perceived slight against one community of people can last a millennia.”

The Silver Aurelia.

Lots of people knew her as an esteemed captain. Fewer as a good person.

Mirielle hoped she could be like her one day.

“. . . I believe you are all tired. For the remainder of the afternoon and evening, you are to remain secluded in your dormitories. Not a peep. There will undoubtedly be students with an eye out for the group responsible for today's calamity. I will not have you cause any more of a ruckus.”

“Uwah, it sounds like we're being grounded.”

“If you can see that much, then ensure that grounded is all you remain, Miss Holtsen.”

As Tabitha shied away, Yuela nodded at the principal. For someone who Mirielle suspected was an honour student in every regard which did not involve allowing windows and roofs to explode, she seemed to be taking her new found role as a day one delinquent with exceptional grace.

“What about afternoon classes?”

“You are in no condition to attend afternoon classes, Yuela. None of you are. Have any of you looked at the state of yourselves since returning from your excursion? There is a dress code to be adhered to. Please use this time for self-study and retrospection. I will ensure new uniforms and provisions are sent to you. All I ask is that everyone behave for one night.”

Principal Priscelia pushed back her chair and stood up. Nobody was under any illusion that whatever she said next, there could be any scope for argument.

“Now, go to your rooms.”