Isabelle Moreau.
The Class Representative of 4-A.
The First-Ranked Student of Vermillion Private School.
And a Scholarship Student.
A hush fell over the room the moment Isabelle Moreau stepped inside.
Unlike Celia Everwyn's poised elegance or Iris Blackwood's quiet dominance, Isabelle commanded attention with sheer authority. Not through words, nor through an overwhelming aura, but through the weight of expectations that came with her presence.
Her every step was measured, precise—heels clicking against the marble floor in a rhythm that was neither hurried nor hesitant. She was a woman who belonged here, not because of lineage or wealth, but because she had earned it. And that, more than anything, made the students despise her.
The so-called scholarship student.
The commoner among royalty.
She could hear the murmurs even without listening.
"Tch. Here comes the queen of the peasants."
"Seriously, does she ever smile?"
"I heard she got perfect marks again. Figures."
