They found a table near the outer rim of the cafeteria—half-shielded by a vertical garden wall, with clean light and just enough distance to filter out the din of the crowd. It was the kind of table that felt unintentionally private, even when full.
Trays were set down. Drinks opened. And just like that, the chatter began.
"So," Madeleine said, leaning forward with both elbows on the table, "national top rank. You planning to tell us how you pulled that off, or are we meant to believe you're just secretly a demigod?"
Isabelle lifted her water bottle slowly. "It was just a result."
Chessa groaned. "Spare us the stoic humility. That wasn't just a result—that was domination. They don't even curve national exams. You didn't just beat everyone, you broke the whole structure."
"Didn't even know Vermillion had someone in top ten last year," Miri added, eyes wide.
"Top hundred," Madeleine corrected. "And that was barely."
All eyes turned to Isabelle.
