Your activity of watering the flowers is interrupted by a classmate, she asks you what you think of Scaramouche, the guy practically everyone adores.

You respond by saying he’s elegant—No! More than that. It’s as though he’s made of elegance itself! As the words leave you, you don’t realize the window to the classroom is open, and he heard everything from inside.

“How should I take that?” He inquiries blandly, tilting his head to the side and propping his arms on the windowsill.