Professor Scarlett sat at her desk in her office.
Surrounded by neatly organized stacks of documents.
The room was dimly lit.
The faint scent of old paper mingled with freshly brewed coffee on the side table, but Scarlett paid it no mind.
Her attention was consumed by the pile of business records from the academy's town center, detailing the performance of various shops and enterprises.
One document in particular caught her eye—a file on the Resource Emporium owned by old man Wilfred.
Her brows furrowed as she flipped through the pages.
She remembered visiting the shop a while ago.
It had been a modest place with little to boast about.
Struggling to stay afloat like many other independently owned businesses in the academy town center.
Yet, the records in front of her painted an entirely different picture.
Revenue had skyrocketed.
Sales figures showed an unprecedented surge.
The shop now consistently outperformed even some of the academy-backed ventures.
The inventory turnover rate, once sluggish, was now remarkably efficient.
Wilfred's Resource Emporium had become a one-stop shop for rare items, potions, and essential resources for students and faculty alike.
But it wasn't just the numbers that intrigued Scarlett.
It was the methods.
The pricing structure had been overhauled with dynamic pricing models.
Offering discounts on bulk purchases while subtly increasing individual item prices.
Marketing had taken a creative turn with targeted promotions aimed at specific student demographics.
Stock was replenished just in time to meet peak demand, minimizing wastage and storage costs.
These weren't the tactics of an aging shopkeeper like Wilfred.
No, these methods were modern, innovative, and suspiciously well-informed.
Scarlett leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood of her desk.
A nagging thought surfaced, one she couldn't ignore.
She remembered seeing a list of the shop's business members during her last visit, and one name had stood out.
Noah Ashbourne.
The infamous second-year student.
Detested by many, yet undeniably intelligent when it suited him.
Could he really be behind this transformation?
Scarlett's lips curled into a thoughtful smile as she leaned forward.
Her hand brushing back a loose strand of auburn hair.
She began poring over the documents again.
Searching for anything that might confirm her theory.
As Scarlett examined the records, a clearer picture of the shop's operations emerged.
Whoever was orchestrating the changes had employed a multifaceted approach.
Inventory Management: The shop had shifted to a lean inventory model, reducing costs while ensuring popular items were always available.
For example, rare magical herbs and high-tier potions arrived just before major exams or training seasons, when demand was at its peak.
Customer Loyalty Programs: Students could now earn points for purchases.
Which could be redeemed for discounts or exclusive items.
It encouraged repeat business and built a dedicated customer base.
Supplier Relationships: The shop had forged deals with external suppliers, sourcing high-quality ingredients and goods at lower costs.
This widened the emporium's offerings while keeping prices competitive.
Marketing: Eye-catching posters and enchanted flyers had been spotted around campus, advertising the shop's unique products.
Even subtle word-of-mouth campaigns seemed to have been orchestrated, creating buzz among students and faculty.
Scarlett couldn't help but admire the brilliance of it all.
Yet, she knew one thing for certain—Wilfred, while a kind and hardworking man, wasn't capable of devising such strategies.
A knock at the door broke Scarlett's concentration.
She straightened up, setting the papers aside as her assistant Gloria entered, carrying another stack of documents.
"Professor Scarlett."
Gloria began, her tone professional yet familiar.
"These are the student attendance records and course updates you requested."
Scarlett accepted the papers with a nod but quickly noticed Gloria's curious gaze.
"Is something troubling you, Professor?"
Gloria asked, tilting her head slightly.
Scarlett hesitated for a moment before deciding to voice her thoughts.
"Gloria, what do you know about Noah Ashbourne?"
Gloria blinked, surprised by the question.
"Noah Ashbourne?
Not much, aside from what everyone else knows.
He's... well, he's not exactly popular."
Scarlett gestured for her to continue.
"You worry too much.
Let the kids figure it out. Survival of the fittest and all that."
Gloria shot her a stern look.
"This isn't a game, Scarlett."
"To you, maybe."
Scarlett swiped another dollop of icing from the cake and licked it off her finger.
"To me, it sounds... sweet."
Gloria groaned.
"Can you at least pretend to take this seriously?"
"I'll handle it."
Scarlett replied, her tone airy but with a hint of something sharper beneath.
"Relax, Gloria.
I'll play nice... for now."
"Scarlett," Gloria warned.
"Fine, fine," Scarlett said, waving her off.
"I'll keep an eye on your little prodigies.
Happy now?"
Gloria didn't respond immediately.
She studied Scarlett for a long moment before nodding.
"Thank you."
Scarlett leaned back again, crossing her arms behind her head.
As Gloria turned to leave, Scarlett called out after her.
"Hey, Gloria."
Gloria paused, glancing back.
"Yeah?"
Scarlett licked the last bit of icing off her finger and grinned.
"Tell me, do you think Noah's as sweet as this cake?
Or is he more... bitter?"
Gloria rolled her eyes and walked out, muttering something about hopeless cases.
Scarlett, left alone, gazed out the window, her smirk lingering.
***
In a pristine hallway, the lit chandeliers cast gentle patterns on the marble floor.
A young maid, her footsteps careful and precise, approached an intricately carved door carrying a silver tray.
On the tray rested a slice of velvet cake topped with a glossy strawberry and a steaming cup of tea.
She paused, straightened her posture, and knocked softly.
Without waiting too long, she opened the door.
Stepping inside with the poise of someone accustomed to silence.
She made her way to the balcony where a girl with flowing black hair sat in a plush chair, engrossed in a thick book.
Her posture was relaxed yet refined, her head tilted slightly as her eyes skimmed the pages.
Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the book's cover.
"Your snack, my lady."
The maid announced softly, setting the tray on the delicate round table beside the girl.
She gave a deep bow before retreating without another word, closing the door behind her.
The girl set her book down, her fingers still resting on its edge.
Her gaze shifted to the tray, her lips curving into a small smile.
She reached for the strawberry first, taking it delicately from the cake and taking a slow bite.
A burst of sweetness danced on her tongue, and she sighed softly in satisfaction.
When she placed the remaining strawberry back on the plate, her attention shifted to the cake.
A swipe of the fork delivered a bite to her lips, the creamy icing brushing against the corner of her mouth.
Without a hint of hesitation, she lifted her finger to the spot, catching the smear of frosting.
She licked it clean with a languid motion, her expression thoughtful.
Leaning back in her chair, she let the sweet taste linger on her tongue as her gaze drifted to the horizon.
Her voice, low and almost musical, broke the serene quiet of the room.
"Tomorrow... I'll finally see my beautiful dove again."
She murmured, her cheeks warming at the thought.
A faint, tingling sensation crept down her spine, and she shifted in her seat, pressing a hand lightly against her chest as if to calm her fluttering heart.
"It's been far too long...
Will you still look at me the same way, I wonder?"
Her fingers brushed against her lips once more, almost subconsciously, as the hint of a smile returned.
The vibrant, fleeting image of his face filled her mind, making her sigh.
She closed her eyes briefly, letting the warmth bloom within her.
Before whispering softly to herself, as though sharing a secret with the wind.
"I can't wait..."