His father's words

Minerva stepped inside the building and inhaled sharply when her eyes met golden eyes staring at her. It was a man leaning against the wall with a relaxed look on his face. His expression seemed occupied as if he was thinking something within himself.

Clutching the ‘registration paper’ Mr. Gael had given to her, she walked up to him with confidence. On the other hand, Minerva wondered why the man was having the same last name as the royal family.

The moment the man's eyes shifted towards her, his lips formed into a wry smile as if he were expecting her to show up here.

“Good morning sir,” Minerva wished, outstretching her hand for the man to see the registration paper Mr. Gael had given to her.

He swiftly collects the paper and mutely beckons on her to follow him. They bent into a hallway with a shiny wooden floor and walls filled with paintings of dragons on the right side. Massive chandeliers reflecting golden light lit up the corridor, giving it a warm glow. On the left side of the wall were the paintings of the Gael royal families right from the very first generation.

The paintings were surreal. So realistic to the extent that one would think that the portrait would walk out of the wall.

“That's the first generation of the Gael royal family before the poison era.” said the quiet man the whole time. Although he seems odd for some reason unknown to her.

“The poison era? What was that about?” She asked the man. Poison era? She thought with a crease on her forehead.

The man's shoulder tensed, and he bit his lower lips as though he made a mistake by spilling something somewhat awful like that.

“That was many years ago. A time not to be mentioned.”

Minerva's lip tightened as she heard the man's voice. When she looked at him, his eyes found hers, and she arched an eyebrow at him.

Before the last painting on the wall was his and her royal highness, the Old Gaels couple. Minerva immediately recognized them as the two persistent couples she had met this morning. Vincent's grandparents. At their sides, two young men stood bold and proud.

When they got to the last painting on the wall, Minerva's eyes brightened up when she saw Vincent. He’s standing on the left side of his father's shoulder while Dalton was at the front of their father's left side. Princess Ciara at their mother's right and another girl sitting on the Queen's lap. Although the girl seemed familiar, Minerva ignored the feelings.

Her eyes lingered on Vincent's portrait. Either this painting was newly made or The Gaels never aged because Vincent was looking young and the same without any sign of aging.

“Minerva Castiel. 19. Blueshead resident. Orphan.” The man read out loudly and Minerva nodded her in approval.

“Good.” The man said. “I am Edwin Hawkins. Head of the nomad department. This means that those students on different levels of studies that aren't able to do well are sent to my department where I thoroughly lecture them.”

Minerva blinked with confusion evident on her face. “Why are they brought back?” She asked.

“They're brought to my department because they're slow learners. Be it the rules and regulations, laws, or studies, if you're a slow learner, then have the hope of meeting me soon,” Edwin replied with a faint smile and bent into another corridor, leaving Minerva to wallow in her thoughts.

In that instant, sounds of a gigantic bell oozed throughout the entire building and soon, students started pouring out of their various classes. Minerva was fascinated by the various colors of their uniforms, different faces and hair colors.

A group of adults also walked past her, discussing something serious while some students were throwing curious stares at her. Of course, they couldn't forget what happened that day of her arrival. Who would?

Someone tapped on Minerva's shoulder, and she jolted in surprise. Turning on her heels, she finds a woman standing there with a stoic face. Her hair was neatly packed in a scary bun and considerable glasses rested on the bridge of her nose.

“Minerva Castiel, follow me,” she then walked towards the corridor Edwin had disappeared into, her dress flowing behind her.

The woman marched into an empty class, her heels clicking loudly and so was her long pink dress flying around her. She immediately scribbled something on the board as if she were rushing or was forced to do it.

“Since you're new here, welcome to RedShire Hunters Academy. A place where young adults are trained and educated for free. In this Academy, we have versatile subjects that we teach our students. From politics to fine arts,” she said. Snapping her fingers, a small fire lit in her palms and Minerva's eyes went wide. “With a touch of magic and alchemy study.” The woman grinned.

Her lips formed an ‘o’ and she nodded with understanding. “What is your name Mrs.?” Minerva asked. Her feet couldn't stay calm on the floor anymore as she listened with interest. She couldn't wait to be among those classes and her joy knew no bounds as the woman led her into another room with different colors of uniforms.

“Does the color mean something?” Minerva asked, and the lady nodded her head.

“Yes dear. It means different things. For now, I'll be giving you,” she paused. Eyes roaming around, she picked a red one from the bulk where it was kept.

“In RedShire Hunters Academy, we have blue uniforms, red, yellow, green, and purple. All of them have their meanings and reasons. Red is a color representing braveness, boldness, strength and at the same time, death.”

A shudder went through Minerva's body as she listened to that last part. “But how do you know I'm brave or bold? I haven't come here before—”

“We saw what happened at the field yesterday, girl. It's something that has never happened in centuries. Someway, somehow, you brought that dragon here and there's no doubt that you're a brave girl,” the woman laughed. “Minerva, who would want to climb on a dragon as huge as that?” The woman asked and Minerva saw a smile bloom on her face.

“Me.” She looked at the woman. “I wasn't scared of it. It was fun too,” Minerva replied. Her eyes brimming with joy as she told the woman.

“That's why no other color level fits you better than red. I see that flame in you. So raw and powerful. You are here for something greater, Minerva. Have a lovely day,” and the woman disappeared into thin air.

Minerva's eyes almost popped out of its sockets with surprise.

The woman popped back into view. “I apologize for not introducing myself. I'm Camilla but you can call me Mrs. Woods. You have nice hair too,” and she disappeared finally.

Few hours later, Minerva was being shown to her room in the dormitory by the Head of the dormitories.

Now that Minerva has been chosen to be on the red level, she is taken to the RedShire dormitory. On the fifth floor, the thirteenth room was hers which she would be sharing with two other females. As for the male dormitories, it was far from the female's.

When Minerva got inside the room with her things which different lecturers here had given to her, she saw two girls lying on their bed while reading a book.

Minerva waved, “hello, I'm Minerva,” she grinned widely at them, but they ignored her with a sneer on their faces.

The smile on Minerva's face fell as she stared at the girls who just pointed out that they won't be friends for the moment. One of them lay on her bed which had a red canopy just like Minerva's and the other girl. The room was furnished to the very best. Wooden floor which looked golden and shiny, smooth on the feet and crystal lamps at each corner of the room. There was only one window and a balcony.

“I'm Belle,” said the girl who was still reading. “That's my sister, Elle,” she pointed to the girl who was now laying on her bed with eyes closed.

Minerva smiled and shook her head with understanding. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, and the girl stood up from the mat she was sitting on. Smiling at her, Belle offered to help her arrange her things.

Minerva wasn't used to having female friends around her. She never knew why but Belle seems nice even though she might be a hard nut to crack.

“Where are you from?” Belle asked. She placed Minerva's uniform on the dressing table beside her bed. The room was big enough for six beds and being only three, there was extra space.

Minerva picked up her boots and placed them beside her bed. “I'm from Blueshead.”

“You mean it?” Belle asked in surprise. Minerva turned to look at her and saw the stunned expression on Belle's face.

“Have you heard about it before?” She asked and Belle stood hands akimbo.

“Are you for real Minerva? That's my home!” Belle shrieked and Minerva's eyes went wide, grinning from ear to ear.

“That's wonderful!” Minerva commented with excitement. Belle in her part couldn't contain her joy of meeting someone from Blueshead after a long time.

“I apologize for ignoring your greetings earlier. I was worried and sad about Elle. She's not in good shape at all,” says Belle as she looks towards her sister's bed.

Minerva felt something wasn't right when she stepped inside the room.

“It's okay. Give her time, she'll be fine.” Minerva pacified the girls who nodded with a small smile. Even when she didn't know what was the cause of the other girl's sadness, it was best not to pry into their affairs.

***

Vincent returned to the castle after the meeting with his men at the kingdom's army base. Tonight was a ball night, and he hadn't set eyes on Minerva since his arrival. Although he would've loved it if she didn't come, now that his grandparents have made up their mind, he could do little to nothing to change their plans. Besides that, Vincent was already thinking about the small redhead woman, Minerva.

After dressing in his best, Vincent marched out of his room. He wasn't a huge fan of overdressing, but his presence commanded power anywhere he treaded.

The moment he stepped into the ballroom, sweet waltzing of the RedShire choirs reached his ears. Mouthwatering aroma of food wafted everywhere. People were slowly filling up the large ballroom. The walls were painted with faded maroon color. Chandeliers hung from different parts of the tall ceiling and the black ceramic floor gave the ballroom a scary yet exciting vibe. Ladies were dressed in formal ball gowns and men, in suits.

“Prince Vincent,” they curtsied while the men bowed respectfully.

Vincent acknowledged them with a curt nod and turned his attention to his parents who were discussing something at the head table.

Some women were trying to get his attention while pulling their daughters along with them. None of them were as captivating as Minerva.

“Vincent! What—” Ciara shuddered. “You look like a pauper. Where are your suits or tunics?” She asked. Today, Princess Ciara has let down her hair in flowing waves behind her. She also wore an expensive satin golden gown with a small coronet on her head. As for Vincent, he wore black suit pants and white sleeves which were left opened at the top, unbuttoned. His dark hair was styled in curtain bangs and his well polished boot outshone others.

Vincent ignored Ciara because it was normal for her to berate him. There was his father, drinking wine and speaking with his stepmother and the king's concubine, Ciara's mother. Although the Gaels were a royal family, his father married gold diggers.

Vincent exhaled happily when he saw that his grandparents weren't present at the ball. Dalton was also absent which was rare. The moment his father's concubine eyes fell on him, her lips curved into a sneer.

“Your son is here,” she said the ‘son’ so dramatically as if he were an eyesore.

The King immediately turned to face Vincent's direction. Before he could speak, Vincent beat him to it.

“Where's mother?” He asked. His voice hushed but filled with dread.

The only person who never cared about what he did was his father.

“While preparing for the ball, she lost herself again.” He replied.

“So you left her alone? How could you?” Vincent asked his father who chewed his meat with pleasure.

“You aren't a kid anymore Vincent, at this age, you should know that there are some important things one has to let go. Mabel is on the brink of death. There's little I can do to help.”

“Shut up!” Vincent yelled, slamming his both fists onto the table. Curious stares reached the royal table and the King waved them off.

The King then stood up. One could clearly see the similarities between Vincent and his father. Same facial features.

“Vincent. I won't tolerate this kind of behavior you're displaying in front of my subjects. For what you have done, your engagement would come up at the middle of the week.”

“It will not happen?” Vincent gritted his teeth.

“Then watch and see,” Ciara piped in.