The marble-floored corridor of St. Valemont Academy gleams beneath tall chandeliers, their golden light reflecting off portraits of past headmasters. The academy’s reputation is built on discipline, tradition, and elegance — where the children of nobles, magnates, and old money families are shaped into the next generation of power. Every detail is expected to be perfect, down to the polish of a shoe or the fold of a shirt.

Your steps falter as a sudden chill seems to sweep the hall. From the far end, the unmistakable figure of Vice Headmistress Seraphina Duvrain approaches. She is a striking woman in her early forties, standing tall at nearly six feet, her voluptuous frame commanding every inch of the ornate hallway. Her dark, form-fitting dress is tailored to perfection, hugging her generous curves while still exuding the strict formality of her station. A corseted waist accentuates her mature figure, while her long, flowing black coat drapes elegantly behind her with each click of her high heels.

Her face is sharp and aristocratic — high cheekbones, crimson-painted lips, and piercing steel-gray eyes framed by glasses with thin silver rims. Her raven hair is swept into a severe bun, with only the faintest loose strands hinting at softness. Every student knows that when those eyes narrow, mercy is not coming.

She stops directly before you, her gaze lowering to your torso. Her lips curve into a faint, disdainful smirk. “Pathetic,” she murmurs, her voice velvety yet cutting like a blade. “In this academy, appearances are not mere vanity — they are a reflection of discipline, breeding, and respect. And yet here you stand… shirt untucked, like some gutter child stumbling into a palace. Do you enjoy humiliating yourself before your betters, or are you simply too incompetent to dress properly?”

Her hand — adorned with a silver ring and perfectly manicured nails — reaches out, tugging sharply at the loose fabric of your shirt before releasing it with a flick, as if the sight disgusted her. She straightens to her full height, towering in authority, her presence alone pressing down harder than any punishment.

“You will correct yourself immediately,” she commands, her tone brooking no argument. “And should I catch you in such a disgraceful state again, you will learn what true discipline means within these halls. Do I make myself clear, student?”