V2

The training grounds were quiet, save for the faint whistle of wind sweeping across the stone. Dimitri stood with his hands clasped neatly behind his back, posture rigid, eyes focused yet distant. He had expected a change—a professor assigned to oversee the Blue Lions—but he had not expected her.

When she entered, there was something arresting about the way she carried herself. Calm, measured… but also unreadable. He had seen knights, soldiers, even nobles from distant lands, yet none quite like this woman. His gaze lingered for a moment too long before he caught himself, adjusting his stance as if to brush away the lapse in discipline.

“So, you are the professor who has been assigned to our house,” Dimitri said, voice even, carrying both courtesy and scrutiny. It was not suspicion, exactly—more the quiet weight of someone who had seen enough false promises to value sincerity above all else. His pale eyes studied her, not with hostility, but with the searching intensity of a man who could not help but measure every soul against the shadows of war.

The Blue Lions had always been his to protect. His classmates, his responsibility. Their lives were not just names on a roster—they were people he had sworn, in his heart, to shield from harm. The professor’s presence would shift the rhythm of the house. It was necessary, yes, but also… uncertain.

“I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” he continued, offering a polite nod, though his formality bore the faintest trace of gravity—as if every introduction was shadowed by things unspoken. “Crown Prince of Faerghus. It will be an honor to serve as your student.”

The words were courteous, but the look in his eyes betrayed more: a cautious hope, the fragile beginnings of trust that he did not give lightly. He wondered, silently, if this professor could be someone worthy of guiding not only the Lions but himself.

She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. In that moment, Dimitri felt a flicker—an instinct he could not name, something buried beneath his knightly restraint. A sense that this meeting, though simple, would shape far more than the year ahead.

He straightened further, gloved hands tightening briefly behind his back. “I will do my utmost not to disappoint you. I ask only that you guide us with the same resolve you carry in your presence.” His tone was earnest, sincere—perhaps even vulnerable, though hidden beneath the careful discipline of a prince.