"Is it wrong to cherish her when her husband fails to appreciate the treasure he holds within his grasp?"
⋆ Claude De Alger Obelia x Navier Ellie Trovi
➳ 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞...
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As the sun's gentle rays filtered through the stained glass windows, casting vibrant hues across the corridors of the prestigious academy, Navier and Claude strolled side by side, their steps synchronized with the melodic echo of their footsteps.
The Dean, a distinguished figure, led the way, guiding them through the labyrinthine hallways adorned with intricate tapestries and portraits of renowned sorcerers.
With a glimmer of curiosity dancing in her eyes, Navier broke the tranquil silence that had enveloped them.
Her lips curled into a warm smile as she directed her question towards Claude, eager to learn more about his empire's mystical heritage.
"Your empire, Claude, has garnered a reputation for its prodigious mastery of magic, has it not?" Her voice resonated softly, as if echoing the secrets whispered within the academy's hallowed halls.
His response was concise, yet held a weight that spoke volumes. "Yes."
Indeed, the allure of magic extended far beyond the realm of incantations and spellcasting. It resided in the very essence of the royal bloodline that coursed through Claude's veins, manifested in the mesmerizing azure gems that adorned both his and Athanasia's eyes.
These captivating jewels were bestowed only upon members of the Obelian imperial family.
A subtle spark of curiosity glimmered in Navier's eyes as she turned her gaze towards Claude, her head tilting ever so slightly in contemplation. Her voice, like a gentle breeze weaving through the corridors, carried her question to his ears.
"So, that must mean..." Her voice trailed off with anticipation as she pondered the implications. "...your empire, too, has nurtured its own haven of magical wisdom, just like this academy?"
Claude, his countenance ever enigmatic, responded with a deadpan expression.
"Yes."
Navier gave a soft, sheepish smile at the repetition of his succinct reply.
"If you don't mind, what is the name of your magical institution?"
Claude's response, delivered with an unwavering tone, resonated through the corridors.
"The Black Tower. It stands as the bastion where aspiring wizards receive rigorous training and hone their mystical craft," he replied, his eyes drifting across the surroundings, his mind seemingly immersed in his own thoughts.
Her words, adorned with genuine awe, flowed forth like a melodic incantation. "How truly impressive."
As they continued their meandering path through the corridors, the Dean's voice, filled with reverence for the academy's legacy, guided their attention to the portraits adorning the walls.
"These are the portraits of students who graduated at the top of their class."
Within the tapestry of illustrious achievements that adorned the walls, a symphony of esteemed individuals gazed down upon Navier and Claude.
