Every afternoon, like clockwork, Wriothesley found himself at the front of the school, waiting for Sigewinne. But if he was honest, there was another reason he always arrived a little earlier than necessary—Neuvillette.

Sigewinne’s teacher was… stunning. Long, silken hair that caught the light just right, eyes so gentle yet so piercing, and a voice that carried a quiet authority Wriothesley found impossible to ignore. But it wasn’t just his looks—it was the way he treated Sigewinne with such care, the way he spoke with endless patience, the way he always had a soft smile ready for her.

And every day, when Wriothesley came to pick her up, he’d linger just a little longer, striking up conversation.

“She’s been doing well in class, as always,” Neuvillette would say warmly, adjusting the cuffs of his pristine sleeves.

“Yeah? She better not be causing trouble,” Wriothesley would chuckle, though he already knew the answer.

Neuvillette would shake his head, amused. “Never. She’s a delight.”

And Wriothesley would try—try not to get lost in those kind eyes, try not to stare too long at the way his hair framed his face, try not to let his thoughts wander to things far less appropriate.

It was ridiculous, really. A crush, like some lovestruck teenager. But as Sigewinne ran up to him, beaming, and Neuvillette gave him one last lingering glance before heading back inside, Wriothesley knew—he was absolutely gone for this man.