Chapter 7: The Despised Commoner.

Olivia recalled the pleasant warmth of her hometown, her cosy little house and the smiles that greeted her every morning.

In contrast, the academy was cold and bitter, like a prison that restricted her as a person.

Her hands trembled visibly as she scrubbed at the graffiti, her vision blurred by an ambiguous moisture she refused to acknowledge.

The words etched into the wood felt like a brand, a mark of her supposed inferiority. She wondered how long she could endure this.

Only a couple of weeks had passed since she had stayed at the academy, but it was enough time for Olivia, the first ever scholarship student, to be mentally cornered by her high handed classmates.

For the most part, the boys in her class had been rather kind, or more specifically, indifferent toward her.

Considering the verbal assaults and discrimination from the girls, such indifference seemed kind by comparison.

At least she had not been physically abused, which was a blessing in a way. She wondered if she had become crazy for thinking so.

Why wouldn't she? Just a months ago, in her hometown, everyone treated her kindly, and she treated everyone kindly in return.

Back then, the kindness she received right now from the boys would have been considered rude.

But here, in the academy, the most basic human decency had become a luxury for her.

She was belittled, verbally and physically.

Her notes, which she had meticulously gathered, and the tools she had painstakingly bought with her allowance, were destroyed.

'Why?'

The question echoed in her mind, like a drumbeat that pounded in sync with her pitiful heart.

She had come here with dreams, carrying the hopes of her friends and family that were now being crushed under the heels of her fellow classmates.

Perhaps her dream was a tad too big for her?

It hurts, it was painful, but the pain wasn't just entirely because of their words or actions but from the realization that what she hoped for might never come true, and the fact that she was powerless.

She thought of her family. She imagined her parents' proud smiles and her siblings' excited chatter.

She had promised them she would succeed, that she would make them proud.

The thought of disappointing them was even more painful than the current predicament.

She knew no one would blame her even if she dropped out, especially if she explained everything.

But this only made the weight on her chest heavier, making it hard to breathe.

She was a kind and lovely girl with a solid temper. Even so, anger was not entirely foreign to her.

Her once solid temper frayed at the edges, with a boiling anger simmering just beneath the surface.

She wanted to fight back, to scream at the people of the injustice she suffered.

But she knew it would only make things worse.

—"I heard that your hometown is a floating island in the outskirts of the kingdom, a rural countryside?"

— "I looked it up. You know, I thought it was funny... One Ship will probably defeat the baron who ruled it?"

The nobles held absolute power, and she was just a commoner, a scholarship student who dared to dream too big.

Olivia's resolve wavered as days dragged on.

She longed for a savior, a knight perhaps, someone who could alleviate and reassure her pain and offer a hand.

But unfortunately, she wasn't a princess, thus no one came.

The nobles, not just Stephanie, but her fellow classmates too, freely ostracized and torment her.

Their disdain was a wall she couldn't break through, and the scarce kind faces she encounters are too timid, too few to defend her.

She understood why.

Why would anyone willingly make an enemy of their fellow nobles for a stranger, and a commoner at that?

She understood; it was only rational... So rational in fact, but even if she understand it rationally, she just couldn't bear it emotionally.

'Why? Why? Why?'

She sobbed internally.

Olivia was an intelligent girl. Why wouldn't she be? She was the first ever scholarship student in the history of the academy.

Even so, she didn't understand why the nobles went to such lengths to belittle her.

She had heard they were prideful and arrogant, and she thought she understood.

Only they, who have a ship to sail could risked their lives to protect the commoners; arrogance seemed a fair price for such bravery.

But if they were so prideful, why did they need to crush her?

Shouldn't their pride drive them to improve themselves rather than destroy someone else's pitiful efforts?

With a firmer gripped, as if to deny her quivering hand; she scrubbed the marks with fervor.

With a heart on the edge of breaking, she gathered the torn up papers surrounding her seat, and fought back tears.

As she crouched down to collect her materials, now too shabby to called books, with her peripheral vision, she saw three guys at the back with drooping shoulders, downcast eyes, with a guilt wridden expressions.

Anyone could deduce they were guilty, but Olivia didn't blame them, and She didn't blame them, but their silent complicity hurt almost as much as the bullying itself.

It was a painful reminder that she was truly alone.

She understood the fact that she can not be angry at them, that they were also a fellow victim, which torment her even more.

She was too good a girl for the bitches of the academy to accept, their hidden insecurity as a woman, which they deny having any, made them turned against olivia.

"Such a cruel classmates, aren't they, commoner?"

A pompous voice cut through the silence like a knife. Beside them, a girl with banana coloured hair stared at Olivia condescendingly with contempt.

Olivia's gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet the noble's haughty stare. She felt like a bug under a magnifying glass, burning slowly under the scrutiny.

The woman scrutinized Olivia, who timidly curled herself into a ball, crouching down and hugging her knees tightly like she was some kind of cockroach species.

"If only she had been in her place from the beginning, wouldn't you agree, Carla?"

"....Yes, Stephanie sama."

The girl in question frowned, her response was slow, a voice tinged with hesitant discomfort.

Olivia caught the fleeting look of sympathy in her eyes that did little to alleviate her pain.

"Tch." Stephanie, annoyed by Carla's tone, clicked her tongue and walked out with a dismissive flick of her skirt, her entourage trailing behind her.

As the door closed behind them, the silence was broken only by the sound of Olivia's quiet sobs, collectively ignored by her classmates.

An ambiguous liquid, hot and bitter, fell from Olivia's eyes and moistened the floor she had just tenderly cleaned.

The tears she refused to acknowledge finally fell, each drop was like a stab to her little pride.

'I was just trying to make a friend.'

Just two days after the opening ceremony, Olivia had been exploring her new school. As the good girl she was, she went to the library.

While searching for more books, she noticed a purple haired boy reading a book she was deeply interested in.

Because the subject was obscure, and it excited her to find someone else interested in it.

She struck up a conversation, and the boy humored her with a surprising level of kindness, though tinged with a peculiar self centeredness.

She told him she would take her books and return to discuss more. But before she could, a blonde haired girl told her she didn't belong there and ordered her to leave immidiately.

It was not very usual for Olivia to received such treatment, and in her bewildered state, she left the library quickly.

On her way out, she remembered that it was the same girl who had chased her away from the back of the school just the day before.

She wondered what she had done to offend her so much, why the girl was so hostile. Because she couldn't fathom the reason, she slept away the night with comfort however.

From the next day, the harassment started.

Olivia soon realized that the purple haired boy was Brad Fou Field, from a margrave household, and the fiancé of the banana haired girl, Stephanie.

But why was Stephanie so cruel? In the beginning, the harassment started with sarcastic remarks.

A day passed, and the harassment became more aggressive, escalating to picking fault in anything and everything she does.

A day passed, and her seat was marked with graffiti. A day passed again, and her notebooks and school shoes were hidden.

Now, the little equipment she had bought with her allowance, which the entire village had contributed money to help her cquire, was destroyed.

What hurt even more was that there was no hero to help her. She was utterly lonely.

It was tragic how many times she considered dropping out of the academy in just the past one week. Alas, she couldn't even do that because she had no more money to spare.

She felt so helpless that it hurt. She begged for a savior every day. It hadn't been long since she enrolled in the academy, but how tragic that she was this mentally cornered in only a few weeks.

Author's Note: Should I torment her a bit more?