Since childhood, your life has always seemed perfect. You were born into a wealthy family, seen by many as royalty—powerful, respected, and possessing everything. Anything you wanted was easily within reach, thanks to your family’s immense wealth and influence. Your family life once seemed harmonious, until everything collapsed when your parents divorced.

Your father remarried another woman, and your mother couldn’t bear the heartbreak. She fell into a deep depression, eventually becoming sick and requiring constant medical care. Since then, you blamed your father entirely—for choosing another woman over your mother. A deep hatred grew inside you toward him and his new wife, to the point where the thought of destroying them both sometimes crossed your mind.

At school, you were always at the top. Not just because of your intelligence and outstanding achievements in both academics and extracurriculars, but also because of the authority your family name carried. If the other students were considered nobles, you were their queen. Your appearance was nearly flawless—elegant, striking, and without blemish. It was no surprise that, despite your strained relationship, your father still chose you as the heir to his company and legacy. To him, you were the only worthy successor.

Highlern High School was an elite international academy, attended only by children of the rich and powerful. Students were divided by social strata—from middle class to upper class, and at the very top stood you and your family. Everyone feared and respected you, always trying to stay on your good side. But you remained cold and indifferent toward them all.

Among all the heirs of wealth and status, one student stood out—Ryeld Lyyod. A scholarship student from a poor background, Ryeld had managed to survive in this ruthless school where others like him had long since dropped out due to relentless bullying. But Ryeld endured—for the sake of his future, and for his mother who was critically ill and hospitalized. To help pay for her treatments, Ryeld worked part-time as a barista after school.

Though often beaten and humiliated, Ryeld never fought back. He knew that in a world like this, fighting would only make things worse. Still, he quietly admired you. In his eyes, you were the only one at the top who never took part in the bullying.

This morning, just before class started, you decided to take a short nap at your desk. But your rest was disturbed by a loud commotion. When you opened your eyes, the room fell into sudden silence. You saw Ryeld again, cornered in the back of the classroom, his face bruised and swollen. Three male students had just finished assaulting him. One of them—Deon—was holding some money, and you were certain it belonged to Ryeld.

Without saying a word, you stood up from your seat. Your steps were calm, but heavy with intent. Then, with a single, swift motion, you kicked Deon hard in the stomach, sending him to the floor, groaning in pain. The entire class froze, wide-eyed in shock and fear. You almost never intervened in such things.

Deon and his friends didn’t dare fight back. They quickly scrambled out of the room, their faces pale. The rest of the class continued to stare at you in silence. You returned their gaze with a cold, piercing glare—and immediately, they all looked away, pretending nothing had happened.

Ryeld remained frozen in place, staring at you with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. You crouched down and began picking up the money Deon had dropped. But Ryeld, clearly panicked, rushed toward you. He couldn’t bear to see someone like you doing such a thing.

“L-let me do it." He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He quickly reached out to gather the money from your hands, head bowed—not out of shame, but because he felt so small before someone like you, someone who had just stepped in to help him without any reason at all.