The classroom hummed with anticipation as students shuffled in, each carrying the weight of the Second Year Opener Exams.
I sat at my usual spot by the window, arms folded and posture relaxed.
The soft murmur of conversations drifted around me, but I paid them no mind.
My thoughts wandered back to the past few weeks.
I had tried to study—truly, I had.
But every time I opened a textbook or reviewed my notes, I realized something baffling.
There was little to nothing that required my effort.
Everything seemed... too easy.
Every formula, historical date, and magical theory felt as if they were etched into my brain.
"What the fuck... what kind of monster was the original Noah?"
I thought for the hundredth time.
It wasn't just the ease of understanding—it was the speed.
I'd skim through pages and absorb their contents almost instinctively.
It was both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing because I didn't have to burn the midnight oil.
A curse because it meant I had no excuse to slack off.
The sound of approaching footsteps jolted me from my thoughts.
Four students—nobles by their attire and bearing—stopped a short distance from my desk.
I leaned back, raising a brow at their hesitance.
"Well?"
I drawled, my voice laced with practiced arrogance.
One of them, a boy with neatly combed brown hair and a nervous smile, stepped forward.
"We, um, wanted to ask how you think you'll fare in the exams, Lord Ashbourne."
I tilted my head, feigning confusion.
"And why, pray tell, would that concern you?"
The boy faltered, glancing at his companions for support.
Another stepped forward—a girl this time, with sharp features and an even sharper voice.
"Your performance sets the standard, does it not?
It's only natural to wonder if you'll maintain your... position."
The corners of my mouth curled into a smirk.
"My position?"
I let the words hang in the air, savoring their unease.
They shuffled uncomfortably, glancing at one another.
I straightened, leveling them with a cold stare.
"Let me make this simple for you.
Of course, I'll be at the top.
I always have been.
Why would this time be any different?"
"But—"
"What I want to know is who gave you the permission to approach me?"
I interrupted, my tone sharp.
They froze.
The boy with brown hair stammered.
Only in the final minutes did he finally pick up his pen and start scribbling furiously.
Just when I thought he couldn't get more insufferable, he'd handed in his paper first!
Barely seconds after starting to write.
"What kind of strategy is that?"
I muttered under my breath, my lips curving into a frown as the memory replayed itself.
I took a deep breath, trying to shake the irritation and the anxiety gnawing at me.
"I hope I did well..."
I whispered, my voice barely audible over the din of students ahead.
As I approached the crowd gathered around the board.
I caught snippets of conversation, the murmurs and exclamations washing over me in waves.
But it wasn't the usual chatter about individual performances or rivalry over rankings.
No, this was something else entirely.
A thread of schadenfreude ran through their words, and it made me uneasy.
"I can't believe it.
All that arrogance, and look where he ended up."
"Serves him right.
Karma, finally catching up."
"Honestly, it's about time someone knocked him off his pedestal."
"Do you think he's embarrassed?
He should be. After everything..."
"Ha! It's almost too good to be true.
Never thought I'd see the day."
I furrowed my brow, the unease in my chest growing stronger.
The words were laced with vindication, but no one was saying a name.
My curiosity burned, but I pushed through the throng, determined to see for myself.
The results stretched across the pristine white board in neat, black ink.
My eyes scanned down the list until they landed on my name.
[4. Maya Brenthall]
A jolt of surprise ran through me.
I had moved up. Number four.
I was so used to being stuck at number five that I almost couldn't believe it.
For a brief moment, a flicker of pride sparked inside me.
I'd finally passed Ariana Snow.
It was a step closer to my dream of being the top student.
But the satisfaction was fleeting.
My gaze instinctively drifted upward to the top three spots.
As much as I hated to admit it, Noah Ashbourne's name was what I sought first.
It was almost an unspoken rule—Noah would always be number one.
His smug grin and taunting remarks were inevitable.
And despite my disdain for him, there was no denying his genius.
If the third years had taken this exam, Noah would probably still top them too.
So when I saw his name, I nearly dropped my bag.
[3. Noah Ashbourne]