{ 6 YEARS, 2 WEEKS, AND 4 DAYS LATER… }

  It was arou-thirty in the m.

  Mirac was standing in front of the castle entrance, in the wide atrium. He wore a light blue velvet tunic, adorned with thin golden embroidery along the edges and sleeves. His bck, knee-length trousers revealed white stogs that ended in shiny, well-maintained bkle boots.

  The enormous wooden doors, tall and imposing, stood as guardians of the mairance. Carved with intricate patterns of rosettes and noble crests, the doors were reinforced with sturdy iron studs and adorned with golden handles, gleaming even in the sunlight. The impressive wooden structure veyed a sense of authority and grandeur, refleg the majesty of the entire castle.

  The hall, oher hand, was vast and airy, with a marble floor id out in a bd white checkerboard pattern. The red walls were adorned with tapestries and shields, while at the ter of the high vaulted ceiling hung a rge crystal delier that sparkled like a steltion of suspended lights.

  The tall, narrow windows, framed by heavy dark red velvet drapes, allowed a soft light to filter through, illuminating the space with a golden glow.

  Oher side of the entrawo finely decorated terracotta vases caught the eye of anyone passing by. Each vase was adorned with sculpted reliefs of leaves and flowers, painted in shades of green and gold that enhaheir beauty.

  The tall pnts emerging from these tainers were lush aended: evergreens with dense, glossy leaves created a vibrant trast with the cool brown of the terracotta vases. Their branches iwined in a, orderly pattern, adding a touch of freshness and livelio the solemn atmosphere.

  To Mirac's left, Carmen stood with the impeccable posture of someone aced to discipline, her gaze fixed on the imposing wooden doors. Every now and then, she would go her left, at the young Prince, but her demeanor remained posed and watchful.

  Meanwhile, Miraervously drummed his fingers against his leg, his gaze fixed on the massive wooden doors that showed no sign of opening.

  Every now and then, he shot irritated g the emptiness of the hall, hoping that time would hurry up out of sheer whim. The hours spent standing in front of the entrance had brought him to a state of exasperated impatience, a bad mood worsened by his stant yawning.

  The silent, orderly calm of the hall stood in stark trast to the growing annoyance building inside him, increasingly difficult to ignore.

  "Oh, e on, when is he going to arrive?!" Mirac burst out, uo hold back his frustration any longer.

  Carmen slowly turowards him, her gaze reproachful, with her hands csped in front of her.

  "Young Prince, suguage is not appropriate for one of your stature."

  Mirac looked at her defiantly, casually pig his h his pinkie.

  "Oh yeah?! Really?! Even when I'm forced to wake up at six in the m to receive someone I've never seen or met?"

  Carmen raised an eyebrow, maintaining the calm that her role required.

  "The rules of courtesy of the Kingdom of Ardorya require that the guest be weled with resped patience, even if he or she is te. It is part of our protocol."

  "More than a teer, he just seems like a retard to me..." Mirac retorted, not even b to lower his voice.

  Carmen gasped with anger, blushing furiously as she turned back toward Mirac, her gaze as hard as the stones of the atrium.

  "Young Prince! Your behavior is uable! If you tinue like this, I will be forced to report everything to His Majesty the King and the Queen. And stop pig your nose immediately, thank you!"

  Mirac sighed, l his hand with a besture. He had no iion uing with Carmen, because he simply didn't feel like it. But frustration g him, and the weight of the tedious wait was unbearable. The atrium seemed to swallow him, amplifying every bit of his impatience.

  Then, as if a thought had suddenly exploded in his mind, Mirac widened his eyes.

  "Wait a minute! I didn't invite him. So why the hell do I have to wait for him?"

  Carmen nodded, her expression uandi firm.

  "You are right, young Prihe invitation was sent by the King himself. However, due to his itments, the responsibility of receiving him was entrusted to you. sider this an opportunity frowth, a small training for the future."

  Mirac rolled his eyes, biting his too hold baother pint.

  'So they're dumping all the work on me, huh?' he thought, yet again burying his silent rebellioh another unwanted duty. 'And then, why did I have to e here to wait for him since seven in the m, if his arrival was scheduled fht?! It doesn't make any se all!'

  But then, slowly, the rge wooden door creaked open, almost without a sound.

  Mirad Carmen turned in unison, their gazes fixed on the man emerging from the shadows of the entrance.

  'Finally!' Mirac thought, with a sigh of relief.

  Through the door entered a tall, slim man who looked to be around forty years old. His gray, disheveled hair was scattered messily over his sweaty forehead, which glistened slightly from the exertion.

  He wore round, iron-framed gsses that framed his lively, dark eyes, while his thick eyebrows seemed to move in rhythm with his heavy breathing.

  All of this added a touch of disarray to his already chaotid u appearance: bck trousers held up by a leather belt, a half-buttoned lic shirt with sweat-stained armpits, and a bck tie hanging loosely around his neck. His bck dress shoes were untied, one of them even pletely open.

  A medium bck hammered leather shoulder bag hung from his shoulder. The regur-shaped bag, with rounded ers, featured an adjustable iron strap and a zip closure, with an inner pocket and two open partments.

  Once he had closed the doors behind him, the man paused for a moment to observe the surroundings and the people in front of him, taking a moment to collect himself.

  'Even running, he still mao be te? What a phenomenon!' Mirac thought ironically.

  Afterward, the man who had just arrived entered clumsily, while trying to catch his breath.

  "Apologies for the dey-" he started to say, but before he could finish the sentence, he tripped on his shoeces ao the ground, almost face-first.

  In the chaos of the fall, the bag opened and a myriad of books scattered on the floor. The ma out an embarrassed ugh as he tried to get ba his feet.

  "Augh! What a pain..." he murmured, massaging his head.

  "Oh, did you hurt yourself?" Carmen excimed, croug down beside him and starting to pick up the books.

  "Uh... No no no, I'm fihank you!" he replied, trying to mask his embarrassment with a nervous smile.

  Carmen put the books bato the man's bag and ha ba, carefully adjusting the strap on the guest's shoulder.

  Without saying a word or showing aion, she then began thten him up with the same meticulousness as someoaking care of a lost child: she bent down to tie his shoes with quick, precise movements, then moved on to the tie, gently pulling it thten it and give it a more dignified appearance. Finally, she took care of the wrinkled shirt, buttoning it carefully all the way to the top and adjusting the colr, rest a minimal sense of posure to the man.

  The tter stood there with his mouth agape and allowed himself to be helped, his expression a mix of embarrassment and gratitude.

  "Th-Thank you very much!" the man finally said, as Carmen stepped bad returo the side of the young Prince.

  Mirac, who had been watg the se with wide-open eyes, was left speechless.

  'Did I really wait all this time for a weirdo like him?' he thought, as a mix of disbelief and disappoi crossed his face.

  The man cleared his throat, trying to dispel the embarrassment of his clumsy entrah a cough.

  "Ahem, as I was saying... Apologies for the dey," he said, bowing slightly with a toubarrassment.

  "Don't mention it. No trouble at all," replied Carmeurning the gesture with a formal bow.

  'Yeah, we really enjoyed waiting for two hours!' thought Mirac, but he held back, merely sighing in silence.

  Carmen shot him a gre, almost as if sensing the young Prihoughts, and Mirac, caught red-handed, respoo her stare with a fearful expression.

  Uhe pressure of that silent judgment, he bowed as well.

  "Hello, and wele, Mr... Uhm..." Mirac began, not really knowing how to tinue.

  "ht! You haven't been told anythi, young Prince," intervened Carmen, turning first towards Mirad then towards the man.

  "I-In this case, it's better to introduce myself…" he said, pg a hand on his chest in a solemure.

  With another bow, he introduced himself:

  "My name is Vi Shirkenn. From this day and for the eight years, I will be your private teacher. It is an honor to meet you, young Prince..."

  'Private... teacher?' thought Mirac, fused. 'It's a joke, right?! Oh yes, of course: an April Fool's joke! Oh no, I almost fot. They don't celebrate that day here…'

  Carmen, notig the little Prince's fusion in the meantime, bent slightly toward him to crify the situation:

  "After your seventh birthday, His Majesty the King decided to entrust your education to Professor Shirkenn."

  Mirac looked at the newer with a mix of disappoi and disbelief. The idea that such a clumsy man could be his teacher terrified him.

  'Well... I'm definitely screwed!'

  Notig his distress, the servant with reddish hair tried to reassure him, whispering in his ear:

  "Don't worry, young Prince. Professor Shirkenn may seem a bit odd, but don't be fooled by appearances. He is one of the best teachers in the Kingdom of Ardorya, a true expert in many disciplines. His methods have shaped some of the brightest minds in the kingdom. His Majesty the King chose him personally, knowing there is er teacher to guide you on your path of growth."

  'As much as I care about you, it's hard for me to believe you, Carmen...' thought Mirac, looking at Vi with skeptical eyes.

  After a moment, he gave in to the iable and asked:

  "Alright... But when do the lessons start?"

  Vi smiled, replying with a subtle hint of pride:

  "Today, young Prince."

  "…"

  Mirac sighed, accepting the situation with a resigned expression.

  'Well, actually, Carmen is right: I shouldn't jump to clusions by judging him just by his appearance...'

  Upon refle, he didn't want to behave like the people from his old world. There, in fact, his dirty and disheveled appearance was always a reason for judgment, and it almost always excluded him from any pce he went to for his needs, like the library or the stores, of course, only when he mao gather enough moo shop.

  They saw him as someohout money, instead of treating him like a normal person.

  But after all, this is exactly overty represents in society: a bel, a distin, an invisible boundary that separates those who have from those who don't, those who from those who must struggle to survive.

  Once again, his new luxurious life had almost made him fet these details.

  'I am grateful to you, Carmen... Like 6 years ago, you prevented me from fetting my old shitty life!'

  While Mirac was refleg, the servant with reddish hair turned around and, without further dey, ihem to follow her.

  "Young Prince, Professor Shirkenn... I will take you to the prepared for your lessons."

  The two followed her in silence, walking through the vast corridors of the castle, surrounded by aapestries and imposing statues, while Mirac tried to mentally prepare himself for his new fate uhe guidance of the etrit.