Not long after Antonio left, Enid got herself dressed and decided to go outside and get some sun, hoping it would shake off the last of her drowsiness.

  It was a rest day, so no work messages came in.

  She figured she’d take the rare chance to truly relax, save her energy for class the next day.

  Enid chose to spend the afternoon in the gardens near the Nature Faculty.

  Thanks to subjects like herbalism, horticulture, and botany still being taught there, the area around the faculty included a large gardening district, part flower garden and part orchard.

  Plenty of people from the academy liked to wander through it in their free time, admiring the blooms and unusual medicinal plants, or sitting in the carefully kept gazebos to pass the time.

  When Enid arrived at a quiet gazebo with a light novel and a small outdoor tea set packed in a box, she spotted one of her students already there.

  Nino, a third-year, sat in front of an easel, sketchpad propped up, eyes fixed on the scenery in the distance.

  Enid didn’t interrupt him.

  She quietly took a seat a short distance away, close enough to observe but far enough not to distract him, and tried to figure out what he was drawing.

  It didn’t take long.

  With her sharp eyesight, Enid quickly picked out the subject sitting on a hillside farther off, reading.

  A red-haired girl.

  Nino was sketching Eleanor.

  Eleanor’s outfit was striking in its simplicity.

  Her top was a white, long-sleeved blouse with lace trim that caught the light with a soft sheen.

  The lace added a touch of elegance without trying too hard, and the subtle patterning looked like a quiet secret stitched into the fabric, the kind you only noticed if you took the time to really look.

  She wore a plain, solid-colored long skirt with no decoration at all.

  No ribbons, no jewelry, no extra flair, just clean lines and a calm, effortless grace.

  Eleanor clearly hadn’t noticed anyone watching.

  She sat alone, absorbed in her book, completely at ease.

  Under a wide blue sky, the hillside stretched out like a green blanket.

  A gentle breeze rolled through the grass and lifted strands of her hair.

  Her long red hair moved like a living flame, bright and vivid, catching sunlight and flashing with warm color as it swayed.

  She tipped her head slightly, then lifted a slender hand and tucked a stray lock behind her ear, the motion unhurried and natural.

  When she lowered her gaze back to the page, the faint blush in her cheeks and the soft flutter of her lashes made her look even more focused, even more real.

  The breeze carried the scent of grass and flowers.

  Pages turned with a quiet, papery whisper.

  It was the kind of peaceful scene that made the world feel far away, as if only Eleanor, the book, and the open sky existed.

  And Enid could tell, very clearly, that Nino felt the same.

  His brush moved nonstop.

  Each stroke was careful and alive, like he was trying to catch something that might vanish if he blinked.

  Color gathered on the page, slowly forming the girl he couldn’t seem to look away from.

  Then the wind shifted again, brushing Eleanor’s face.

  For a heartbeat, the whole scene sharpened into something almost unreal.

  Nino froze.

  His hand stopped midair.

  He set the brush down slowly, and his eyes drifted away from the canvas and locked onto Eleanor herself.

  The look on his face was pure focus, quiet and helpless, like he was trying to burn the moment into memory.

  He didn’t even seem to realize he was staring.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  In that instant, he wasn’t thinking about manners, or distance, or what he should do.

  There was only the girl in the wind.

  In his eyes, Eleanor was one of nature’s finest works, and the breeze was like a gentle finishing touch.

  He wanted to keep it, to preserve it, to carry it back into the painting so the moment could last.

  Enid watched for a while longer.

  From the side, she caught the shape of Nino’s feelings, careful and restrained, tucked away where no one could see.

  Not even Eleanor.

  After some time, Eleanor stood up, brushed off her skirt, and walked away with her book in hand.

  Nino’s painting looked nearly finished.

  But to Enid’s surprise, he suddenly tore the page off his board, crumpled it hard, and shoved it into his pocket.

  Then he packed up his supplies and stood to leave.

  That was when he noticed someone sitting behind him, watching.

  Nino’s gaze flicked toward the figure’s profile.

  Just one glance.

  His expression locked up.

  He went rigid like he’d been struck.

  His eyes went wide, his mouth parted, and for a moment he couldn’t get a single word out.

  Panic flashed across his face, the raw, guilty kind, like a kid caught doing something he absolutely wasn’t supposed to.

  Enid didn’t say anything.

  She simply lifted a hand and gestured for him to come sit.

  Nino obeyed, lowering himself into the seat across from her.

  His movements were stiff, his cheeks visibly red, and his whole posture screamed embarrassment.

  Professor Innis said nothing.

  She poured a cup of flower tea and slid it across to him.

  Nino took it with shaky hands and managed a quiet, “Thank you.”

  The silence stretched.

  It was the kind of silence that said nothing, and somehow said everything.

  Finally, Enid spoke.

  “I saw what you were working on,” she said. “Eleanor, reading on the hillside. It was a good piece.”

  She set her cup down gently.

  “So why did you destroy it?”

  Nino gave an awkward smile, eyes refusing to meet hers.

  “You’re being generous, Professor,” he said. “I’m nowhere near good enough. I only picked up a few basics after taking an art elective.”

  He swallowed, then added more softly.

  “I couldn’t capture Eleanor the way she really is. I thought… keeping that drawing would’ve been an insult.”

  Enid nodded.

  She took a small sip of tea and let the quiet return.

  Nino lifted his teacup and took a sip, like the floral scent might somehow cover the heat rising in his face.

  It didn’t.

  Enid’s next sentence hit him so hard he spat tea everywhere.

  “Nino, you seem pretty hung up on Eleanor,” she said. “Do you like her?”

  Nino coughed, grabbed the handkerchief Enid offered, and wiped his face.

  He opened his mouth to deny it, but Enid spoke first.

  “Don’t rush to argue,” she said. “I’m not telling anyone. This stays between you and me. No one else is going to hear about this, I promise. So tell me the truth. Do you?”

  Nino went quiet for a long moment.

  Professor Innis had always been someone he trusted.

  And honestly, he’d been holding it in for so long that he was desperate to say it out loud to somebody.

  “Yes,” he admitted at last. “I do. I care about Eleanor.”

  He swallowed.

  “But you know how it is. I’m just the son of a minor baron. She’s from House Francesca. This is… it’s only in my head. I can’t let anyone see I’m thinking like this.”

  Enid didn’t take the bait and reassure him right away.

  Instead, she asked, “What is it about Eleanor that pulled you in? If you don’t mind telling me.”

  Nino hesitated, then answered carefully.

  “She’s beautiful. Her family name carries weight. She’s talented, capable, and she works hard. She’s always studying, always improving.”

  He tightened his grip on the cup.

  “And she never treats me like I’m beneath her. She talks to me, actually talks to me. She studies with me, shares ideas, asks questions.”

  His voice softened.

  “She’s kind. When I can’t hold my head up in front of everyone else, Eleanor is the one who understands. She’s the one who stands by me. After a while… I just didn’t have a chance. My heart was hers before I even realized it.”

  Enid’s gaze stayed steady.

  “So you think you’re not good enough for her,” she said. “And that’s why you hide in a corner, drawing her in secret to fill the gap. Is that it?”

  Nino’s head slowly dropped.

  “I… I’m sorry, Professor,” he said, shame flooding his face. “I’ll reflect on it. I won’t do something like that again. I won’t…”

  Enid cut him off gently.

  “Don’t decide you’re guilty before we’ve even finished talking,” she said. “I’m not here to scold you. I’m saying this because…”

  She set her teacup down.

  Leaning forward with her arms folded, she spoke slowly, keeping her tone calm so he wouldn’t miss a word.

  “First, you’re not less capable than Eleanor. Not in talent, not in how you learn. If you were, she wouldn’t have chosen you to study with.”

  Nino blinked.

  Enid continued, “And I understand your nerves. Humans are like that. You can be standing in the same room, breathing the same air, and still let things like family names and titles turn into invisible weights that crush your shoulders.”

  She paused.

  “If you believe your rank doesn’t match Eleanor’s, then stop measuring yourself by rank.”

  She met his eyes.

  “Why not work until everything else about you does match?”

  Nino frowned, confused.

  “Everything else? You mean…”

  “You have real talent in nature magic,” Enid said. “It’s not missing, it’s just trapped behind your own hesitations. You’re good, Nino. You need to remember that you’re good.”

  She spoke plainly, without sugarcoating it.

  “Build confidence. Sharpen your skills. Learn until nobody dares look down on you.”

  “In this academy, titles don’t carry nearly as much weight as results and strength.”

  “So become better,” she said. “And when you finally feel you can stand beside Eleanor without doubting yourself, then you can decide what to do next.”

  Nino sat still, turning her words over and over.

  I’m not useless.

  I can become someone worthy of standing next to her.

  The thought took root, then spread, filling in the empty spaces he’d been trying not to look at.

  The odds might be slim, but they weren’t zero.

  And if there was even a chance, why wouldn’t he fight for it?

  Nino drew a breath like he’d been underwater and finally reached air.

  “Thank you, Professor,” he said. “Talking with you always clears my head. Even if the chances are small, you’re right. Doing something is better than doing nothing. I’m going to try.”

  Enid nodded, a quiet approval in her eyes.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear,” she said. “Helping you see your path is my responsibility, and my honor.”

  She added, almost casually, “And next time, try working up the nerve to ask Eleanor to model for you. A painting made with her permission will always be better than something you had to hide.”

  Nino scratched the back of his head, laughing awkwardly.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Fair point. I deserved that.”

  He packed up his things, bowed politely, and turned to leave the garden.

  Before he went, he looked back at Enid.

  “I’m going to give it everything I’ve got,” he said. “I’m going to become a senior who’s worthy of Eleanor.”

  He hesitated, then spoke more quietly.

  “So… please keep watching over me. If I start to back down, I want you to pull me out of it.”

  Enid smiled.

  “I will,” she said. “All the way until you graduate.”