Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 4
The wooden spindle slammed sharply into the desk.
‘Ow!’
The girl rolled her eyes, then clenched her fist as her breath rose to the back of her throat. Cold sweat had already formed in her small palm. Her appearance was incredibly pitiful, but the atmosphere in the room remained ruthless.
The girl thought, “I want to get out of here. I feel like I might die like this.”
However, the other party, who didn’t understand what was going on, pushed up their sharp-looking glasses and scolded sharply.
“Do you mean to tell me you haven’t memorized any of this? I’ve already given you three similar problems, young lady, how can you not get it right once?”
The girl exhaled slowly, as if those words were a knife.
“Does it have to be exactly the same to solve it? There’s something called adaptability. Being dull can also have its limits. Taking a child like you as a student is a matter of my pride! This isn’t a problem that can be solved just by memorization, and you can’t even do that!”
The girl’s shoulders slumped angrily at the sound of the voice shouting for all to hear. Rumors would spread again today. About how incapable and stupid she was. Her heart thudded and ached, and she hung her head, mumbling inaudibly.
“Sorry, please… Explain it once more…”
“Explain? If I explain it to you, will you understand it this time?”
Thwack! The wooden spindle struck the desk once more.
“When an adult hears one thing, they should understand at least two. I’m not expecting a child to get up to ten.”
“Ugh.”
“Yes, for every fast learner, there’s a slow learner. But you should have at least understood one thing accurately. And then, you should have made an effort again. That’s basic etiquette for someone who is learning!”
Memorization was difficult for her. Of course, she wasn’t brilliant. She was an ordinary person, not a genius, but she thought she was doing as well as an ordinary person could. Although the teacher seemed to think differently.
“Are you reviewing and practicing properly, child? Tell me honestly.”
“…….”
She was silent, but the girl didn’t think she was as bad as what her teacher implied. Her teacher took that silence as a sign of indifference, and he let out a deep sigh. The girl’s shoulders slumped, as if that look and sigh were a curse word. She closed her eyes nervously.
“Disappointing.”
Her heart sank. When would the moments of scolding become less painful? Why was it always so frightening? She wondered
“Learning doesn’t happen when you’re the only one talking. Or do you find me amusing? Is that why I don’t even observe the most basic courtesy?”
“I, I…”
It wasn’t like that, it was just that everything was so difficult.
“It’s not like that, sir. I…”
The words she couldn’t bring herself to say swirled around in her chest, clamoring to be spoken.
In reality, sir, your words are just too fast.It’s as if you’re teaching with someone else in mind, not me. And when I look into your eyes, I can see it. You’ve already branded me as an inadequate child.
At home, I’m scolded every day. Not good enough, stupid! Can’t you do better?
I struggle to finish my meals, then I go to my room to start my review and preparation. But it feels suffocating.
The maids laugh at me for being so uncultured.
I wake up chronically vomiting, and then I have class the next day.
And I get scolded again.
Am I a fool? Teacher, who are you teaching when you conduct your lessons?
Are you really looking at me? Why do you keep comparing me to others?
I…
“…I’m sorry.”
But I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else. What came out was just the same as usual.
“Well, I hope tomorrow will be different. However, let me offer one piece of advice once again, child.”
“…….”
“You should know your place well, what you have to gain and what you have to give up. What you should be prepared for, if you are chosen. However…”
In the chilling silence, the girl’s head sank lower and lower.
Her silver hair, which should have shone brightly, was dull today. Pushing up his glasses, the teacher clicked his tongue in irritation; it was clear he was not pleased with the student in front of him.
“People have their place. Do you think the saying ‘know your place’ is just a casual phrase?”
It was a direct hit implying that she didn’t meet standards.
“If you don’t have the confidence to work hard, you shouldn’t have started in the first place. But that’s not the case, is it? You’re here, and you know very well what that means. So please, put in the effort.”
The voice dripping with contempt was harder than ice, sharper than thorns. The girl bit her lip and clenched her fists to the point where her knuckles turned white. And silently, she whispered to herself.
I didn’t want this.
How can I try harder than I already am?
I’m not playing. I’m always, always trying.
“You simply can’t keep up. Miss Arcanda has already finished all of Psalm 12. Gosh, it’s driving me crazy. Being a saint is not just about dressing up.”
“Arcan…da.”
“Yes, Miss Arcanda! Iora, she’s your rival.”
Her shoulders hunched even more.
Arcanda, the shining sun. And the girl’s rival. To everyone, Arcanda was Arcanda, while the girl was simply “child”.
But she didn’t understand. Why did they keep comparing her to that girl? She was herself, and that girl was herself. If there were exceptional children, wouldn’t there also be less exceptional ones in comparison?
“If you want the position of the saint, then please put in the effort!”
She started to speak, but the teacher didn’t give her a chance to talk. Just like many others in this place. Because her words were worthless and didn’t need to be heard.
The teacher, now visibly exasperated, swiftly ushered her away.
“You see that you’re regressing rather than progressing, Miss Ribandt. If my teaching doesn’t suit you, feel free to request a change of teacher at any time. I hope you do.”
At that, fear surged within her, and she quickly raised her head, shaking it vigorously.
She didn’t even want to think about the repercussions of being stripped of her apprenticeship.
The girl’s violet eyes widened pleadingly.
“Please. Please. I’ll work harder, even harder…! Sir, I’ve never once thought that…”
“Do you know how many times I’ve heard that, child? Has there been any change?”
“I’ll work harder… I promise.”
The teacher was a respected scholar entrusted with the education of past princes. He was also known for his gentle nature, never saying anything harsh in class.
But it wasn’t the same for the girl. The cold tone, which seemed to express nothing but disappointment, had stung her repeatedly. It had been a painful time, where her heart bled and her soul was on the verge of shedding tears. Despite everything, she had to beg not to be abandoned.
The teacher spoke sternly, however.
“Child, don’t cry. Tears are not a weapon that work on me.”
“I, I won’t cry… I won’t… sniffle…”
Gloom began to soak her heart. When she returned, she would likely be locked in her room for at least a day. In a society that valued reputation and honor as virtues, her shortcomings were considered sins. Especially in her father’s eyes…
“Iora, do you know what you did wrong?”
His stern voice. The piercing pain on her cheek. Solitude and coldness in her confinement. Hunger.
As she remembered her father’s cold, unforgiving eyes, her shoulders shook with fear.
“Child!”
“Sniffle…”
With a resounding thud, the heavy spindle struck the desk. Startled, she opened her eyes wide and looked up to see the teacher gazing at her with what seemed to be contempt.
“Concentrate! As soon as you say you’re going to do well, you start to think about something else?”
“I’m, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.”
“Sigh, really, I miss the way it was yesterday.”
At the murmured words, Iora bit her lip.
