Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 28

Chapter 28: VPAA (3)

Ahcehera strode back to her office, the faint clink of her military boots echoing in the quiet hallway.

Along the way, she encountered a group of students chatting animatedly near the academy’s central courtyard.

She would have passed them without a second thought, but her sharp eyes caught one figure among the group.

A tall, striking young man stood at the center of the conversation. His features were sharp and aristocratic, with an air of effortless confidence.

What truly made him stand out, however, was his rare pair of violet eyes that shimmered like amethysts in the sunlight.

What a beautiful pair of eyes.

They seemed to hold an unspoken mystery, an intensity that pulled Ahcehera’s gaze longer than she intended.

There was something about him, an aura, a breath of familiarity, that tugged at the edge of her memory.

Have I seen him somewhere before?

Her chest tightened, but the sensation was fleeting. Shaking off the odd feeling, she resumed walking, her face a mask of cool indifference.

I doubt.

Unbeknownst to her, the young man turned to watch her retreating figure, his lips curving ever so slightly in a cryptic smile.

In the afternoon, Ahcehera found herself observing another class, her presence concealed at the back of the room as she evaluated both the teacher and the students.

The lecture hall was filled with disciplined silence, a sharp contrast to the chaos of the morning’s class.

Her eyes swept over the seated students, assessing their focus and engagement.

To her surprise, she spotted the same young man from earlier, his unmistakable purple eyes closed as his head lolled slightly to the side.

Is he asleep?

Despite herself, Ahcehera’s gaze lingered on him.

Something about his demeanor struck her, carefree, almost rebellious, and yet there was a quiet strength in the way he held himself, even in slumber.

She frowned, her mind tugging at the threads of recognition.

Where have I seen him?

It wasn’t until the teacher’s stern voice cut through the room that her thoughts snapped back to the present.

“Mr. Mors!” the instructor called sharply, slamming a hand on the desk in front of the sleeping student.

The sudden noise jolted him awake.

“I don’t want to see anyone sleeping during my class. Care to answer the question I just asked?”

The young man sat up lazily, his violet eyes blinking as he adjusted to the situation.

A small, unapologetic smirk played on his lips as he responded smoothly to the question, his voice low and composed.

Ahcehera stiffened at the name.

Mors?

Her eyes narrowed, her thoughts racing. So, he comes from the Mors family.

A name like that carried weight in the empire.

The Mors family was synonymous with military excellence, their lineage producing some of the finest officers, including the formidable Major General Mors.

How is he related to Major General Mors?

Ahcehera’s wariness deepened and her instincts were on high alert.

This young man wasn’t just another student. His presence felt deliberate, as though his being here was part of some larger scheme she had yet to uncover.

Her fingers curled slightly at her side, her sharp mind already cataloging details about him. She would need to investigate further.

Until then, she resolved to keep her distance, but her vigilance would not waver.

The class continued, but Ahcehera’s thoughts remained shadowed by the lingering image of those enigmatic violet eyes.

–

Finally, the last lecture observation in my schedule is done! I can go home early.

The Mors family was renowned throughout the empire for their extraordinary purple eyes, a hallmark of their lineage.

Their eyes weren’t merely a genetic trait. They were a symbol of their werewolf bloodline, one of the strongest and purest in existence.

The family’s magical prowess was equally unparalleled, a potent force that set them apart from all others.

Ahcehera’s thoughts drifted back to the young man she’d seen in the class.

His eyes had been the most vibrant shade of violet she had ever encountered, glowing with an almost ethereal intensity. Her mind raced as a realization began to crystallize.

Could it be him?

The memory of her savior during the Zerg siege surged to the forefront of her mind.

The familiarity of his aura, the resonance of his presence, it all seemed to align with the mysterious Richard Mors.

When the class concluded, Ahcehera prepared to leave, but her plans were interrupted by an unexpected invitation.

“Princess Ahcehera,” a voice called softly, laced with respect and a hint of nervousness.

She turned to see Professor Elena Dike, a senior instructor of Advanced Battle Tactics, approaching her with a warm smile.

“I must say, your bravery and skill during the Zerg siege were nothing short of extraordinary,” the professor said, her admiration evident.

“I’ve never seen such precision and courage in close combat, especially under such dire circumstances.”

Ahcehera offered a polite nod, her expression calm. “Thank you, Professor Dike.”

“Would you be willing to observe my next class?” Elena asked, her tone hopeful. “I believe your insights would greatly benefit both the students and myself.”

Ahcehera glanced at her timetable and noted the vacancy in her schedule. She agreed with a subtle inclination of her head.

As the next session began, Ahcehera entered the lecture hall, her presence as commanding as ever.

She took her seat at the back, her gaze sweeping over the students, evaluating their composure and focus.

And there he was again, Richard Mors.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him.

His relaxed posture and the faint smile playing on his lips gave him an air of nonchalance, yet his presence seemed to dominate the room.

Throughout the class, Ahcehera pieced together fragments of information she had gathered. The Mors family was large, boasting five children.

The eldest were the twins, Riezekiel and Richmond, renowned for their leadership and outstanding abilities.

Following them was Richard, the third son, whose reputation was more subdued but no less intriguing.

The family’s younger members were two daughters, Renmary and Richmartina, both celebrated for their intellect and charm.

Richard Mors… The name repeated in her mind, intertwining with the image of her savior.

Could it truly be him?

The thought left her restless, yet she remained composed, her expression unreadable.

Ahcehera resolved to dig deeper into the Mors family and Richard himself.

If he was indeed the one who had saved her, she needed to know why, and what role he might play in the tangled web of her life.