“Mr. Aldrick?”

Gerald stopped in his stride, looking off to the side. Down the half-lit hallway, was one of their students, Jennie. She peeked over the edge of the wall, her soft rounded cheeks puffed from her pouting. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Aldrick. My rice cooker is acting up again. I—could you fix it for me later? I can’t afford another one…”

Her voice was so gentle, so innocent. She left her hiding spot, inching towards him in slow, careful steps. 

Was she just nervous or genuinely scared?

Was he scowling?

Breathe in. 

He risked it and reached out his gloved hand to pat the teen on the head, only imagining the texture of her dark strands.

“Did you try to cook your rice with cheese again?”

Jennie startled. Not from the touch, but from his words.

“Nooooo…” She rolled that word, avoiding meeting his eyes. Her cheeks were a shade of pink by the time Gerald chuckled. 

“Well… maybe a little bit?” she added. Her mischievous grin said it all.

He ruffled her hair playfully. The girl flailed her hands to stop him, but her smiling from cheek to cheek gave her away.

“I’ll take a look at it later,” he retracted his hand, a content smile on his face.

Gerald noticed she had her school uniform on, but rumpled like she had thrown it on in a rush. His eyes narrowed on the yellow accents of the black fabric which signified her faction placement. 

The factions that would determine the students’ roles in the war. 

He shook his head—no, conscription was unlikely to last until then. His students were third years right now, between the ages of seventeen and eighteen years old. They still had at least four years until graduation. 

Gerald had been following the news daily, checking to see if the royals would finally fulfill their promise to stop sending spiriters to Volnyr. 

The news was yet to come. 

He had to stop thinking about it. 

Jennie…

He pointed his gaze at her as he crossed his arms. “Now, young lady, shouldn’t you be preparing for your math exam?”

“Ah, yes, yes. Of course! I’ve still got an hour to memorize the formulas though, hehe,” she said as she scratched the back of her head nervously. 

Gerald chose not to comment about the last minute studying session. 

“Well, get to it then. I want to see an A+ on that scoreboard at worst.”

She gawked at him with those auburn eyes. “At worst? Mr. Aldrick, that’s too strict!”

He chuckled; the girl realized he was messing with her, so she ran off. But not without turning right before leaving the hallway.

“Thank you. Mr. Aldrick.”

Once she disappeared into the house, Gerald’s smile vanished. 

He hated this job.

He really, truly despised this job.

Not the children, no. If anything, guiding them through their years at the academy and helping them with any problem he could fix busied him. It allowed him to think about what mattered, not what was in the past. 

But even that couldn’t bring joy to his life. He wished it would.

But he failed.

He continued down the hallway, thankfully avoiding any more run-ins with the students, and exited towards campus. 

The courtyard was a massive sprawl of land, with luscious trees and clean pathways. The seven class houses were all lined up next to each other—each with its distinct flavour. 

Of course, Indigo House had to be the one furthest from the academy itself. Just his luck. 

Just another annoyance in his life.

Sometimes, the memories from his time here as a student brought a smile to his face. But it was temporary, and bittersweet at best. 

All of his friends…

All of them were gone…

Lisbeth was gone…

Every day he questioned himself. Why was he still working here? 

Sure, after the war, he felt lost and hollow. 

Sure, he got the offer and took it without a second thought. 

But it had become his personal nightmare ever since. His colleagues respected him for his service, even the elders and the administration acted like his word mattered over others. 

Ms. Solbakken had zero respect for it, which at first was an appealing shift in pace. 

That wasn’t the problem. The problem was her constant screeching. 

Gerald was a mellow man, all things considered. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, let alone at a woman. God forbid, he would rather slit his own throat. 

He had only ever shown respect to her. He only ever listened to her every word, willing to engage with her thoughts and enact her will. 

It was last year that he completely disengaged. After all his willingness and good nature, he dared utter a disapproving thought. 

She had been calling him a disrespectful brat ever since. 

Even now, his emotions prickled at her constant complaints. Earlier she said he had all the time to finish grading papers during the weekend. But in reality, she insisted he used that time to repaint the facade of their house.

Which, again, he did. No questions asked. No complaints.

Thoughts, but no retaliation. Like always.

So why couldn’t he just leave? Surely, he could find a better job than this? Truthfully, the pay wasn’t even that good. Most of it was automatically deducted for the costs of living on campus, while the money he actually earned usually ended up being spent on the students—or on Solbakken’s own matters.

But somehow, he just couldn’t let go of this place…