To you:After the end

Pulling my hand back, I said, "Let's report it to the police first." I flipped open my pocket watch to check the time—almost ten. "But I don't have time to go there. My class starts at eleven, and I can't miss it."

I also need to talk to Vane and Alya.

"And clearly," I added, turning back to Johan, "you don't know anything about our culture or norms, so you can't file the report on your own."

It was a tricky situation. To get to the station on time, I'd need a high-class carriage. Regular ones would take over an hour and a half on a good day, stopping constantly to drop off other passengers. High-class carriages didn't have those delays, but even then, the trip would take at least forty minutes.

"If you're leaving for class, what about me?" Johan asked, his expression solemn, his eyes wide like a pleading puppy. "Should I stay here and keep an eye on your house?"

"No, it's better if you stick with me." I rubbed my temple, thinking quickly. "Ah, maybe I can send a telegraph to the police station. The local line should deliver it in two hours."

"That could work," he said after a moment, though the uncertainty lingered in his voice. Then, narrowing his eyes, he asked, "But wait—if you're going to your class, how am I supposed to stay with you?"

He folded his arms, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"I mean, what's stopping you from coming with me to class?" I said, shrugging. "You look like a noble, and my tuxedo suits you well. No one's going to dare ask if you're a real noble or not."

Johan frowned. "What about ID checks? Don't they verify that before letting students in?"

I blinked, genuinely confused by the term. "What's an ID?"

His mouth twitched visibly "Right, you guys still hold witch trials."

"Just remember to act more scholarly," I said, ignoring his comment. "And keep your mouth shut. Just smile and nod at anyone who looks at you."

"What about the teachers? Won't they notice the new face?"

"Don't worry about it," I replied. "There are 150 students in every class, and nobles can join whenever they want. Mid-semester, mid-lecture—it doesn't matter."

His face froze, eyes widening to their limit.

"What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing," he stammered, his expression unreadable. "Let's just go."

Ignoring his strange reaction, I turned and headed toward the door, motioning for him to follow.

"Oh right, From now your name is Johan Von Adlerhof. if someone asks you're a noble from the Aurelian Empire, who's here to study at the most prestigious university in the world."

"What the hell, why…..This story sounds too suspicious." Johan frowned.

"That's a Nobility from there, No one's going to check if it's true or not, Since both Empires have a friendly relationship, Or do you have a better plan." I shot up, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, It's not like I know anything about whatever that place is, What if someone asked a random question, which I obviously cannot answer? My cover would be immediately blown….They would be suspicious of me too."

"You're right…" I admitted, already pacing. Suddenly, inspiration struck. I dashed into James's room, rummaging through a pile of old belongings, and emerged triumphantly with a dusty top hat and a wooden cane. Grabbing a cloth, I rubbed the grime away until both gleamed with a faint, worn charm. Satisfied, I handed them to the utterly perplexed Johan.

"You'll be an arrogant noble," I announced confidently. "If anyone asks you a question like that, look at them like they're a foolish baboon. Trust me, they'll back off immediately. Just carry yourself like you own the world."

I turned back to Johan, expecting some hesitation or resistance. Instead, what greeted me made my face twitch.

His light brown eyes were shining—bright enough to rival the sun. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging at light speed. With his voice trembling with sheer excitement, he exclaimed, "I've always wanted to be an arrogant young master!"

…What have I done?

Whatever. I passed him the cane and top hat, then fixed the collar of his tuxedo. Running my hand through his silky blonde hair, I styled it into something sleek and regal.

"Alright," I said, masking my exasperation with forced calm. "Let's go."

We stepped out of the house and into the open street. I sighed, soaking in the warm sunlight after these relentlessly cold days. The occasional chilly breeze was a welcome relief, keeping the warmth from becoming overbearing. I reached for the lock, jiggling it a few times to ensure it was secure.

Behind me, Johan muttered something under his breath, clearly annoyed. His words were too low for me to catch, and I wasn't in the mood to care.

We strolled towards the square at a leisurely pace. It was quiet between us, at least until I felt Johan nudge my arm from behind.

"What?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The question was so out of the blue that I froze mid-step.

"Why are you asking?" I said, forcing a calm tone.

"So you don't," he replied, matter-of-factly, before going completely silent again.

"Hey, I never said that!" I protested. "It's not like I can't get one. With my looks, it'd be as easy as eating a pastry." I straightened up, trying to sound confident. "I'm just not interested in meaningless relationships. When I meet the right woman, I'll marry her."

Johan gave me a look—a mix of disbelief and pity that instantly made my blood boil.

"What about you?" I shot back. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

He didn't answer, It only made me even more annoyed.

"...Do you have any sisters?" he asked suddenly, his tone unusually calm.

"Yes," I said cautiously. "Why do you ask?"

There was no reply. He just kept walking, his gaze fixed ahead.

It wasn't the first time he'd acted weird, and it definitely wouldn't be the last. With a sigh, I decided to drop it and let the matter go.

We reached the square, and the telegraph station came into view just around the corner. The sign above the door creaked slightly in the breeze, and the faint hum of a nearby crowd filled the air. We stepped inside together, and a young receptionist—probably around twenty—looked up to greet us. She wore a simple grey cotton dress, layered with a waist-length fur coat that gave her an air of understated elegance.

"How can I help you, gentlemen?" she asked with a pleasant smile, her gaze lingering a little too long on Johan.

My jaw tightened instinctively, but I forced myself to smile back. "I need to send a telegraph to the police station. It's urgent—I'd appreciate it if it could arrive within the next hour or two."

The receptionist's smile softened, and she slid a piece of paper and a pen across the counter. "Of course. Is everything alright, sir?" she asked, her tone laced with concern.

"Yes, everything's fine," I replied quickly, keeping my voice calm. "It's just a minor report—nothing to worry about." The last thing I needed was any unnecessary attention.

Taking the pen, I carefully wrote out a detailed description of the incident, leaving out any of the unnatural details. Without solid evidence, the last thing I wanted was to end up in a psych ward. I included my address and signed at the bottom.

Satisfied, I looked up to hand over the paper—and my eyes twitched at the sight before me.

Johan was leaning casually against the counter, his hand lightly brushing the receptionist's as they talked. She wasn't pulling away; in fact, her cheeks were flushed, and her shy smile made it painfully obvious she was enjoying the attention.

I gritted my teeth. Why… why were they flirting? You've known each other for a minute!

I inhaled deeply. I am calm. I am calm. I am calm.

"Ahhm," I coughed pointedly. The sound broke their little moment, and both of them straightened up like guilty children caught stealing cookies. Johan stepped back immediately, adopting an innocent expression that fooled absolutely no one.

I shot him a glare. The receptionist, still blushing, quickly took the telegraph from me and signed it before placing it into a box.

I fetched her the one silver pound note from my wallet, Fees for the Telegraph. She took it and neatly placed it in the wooden box in front of her, Smiling professionally afterwards.

"We're done here," I said, my voice a little sharper than intended. "Let's go catch a carriage, or we'll be late."

Johan followed without a word, and we left the station. I pushed the strange incident in the the back of my mind, Trying to forget it had happened.

To be continued...........

Author's Notes: 1 Gold pound= 1000$/USD

 1 Silver pound= 10$/USD

 1 Bronze pound= 1$/USD

Two kinds of currency, coins and notes, Coins are made of element it represents, SImple enough. Cash Notes are white in colour, with a yellow-greeninsh tint, their value mentioned on it, Every Note that is issued is with a specific kind of ink that only Iron Dome bank can produce, It's Dome's Banks most valued secret, since If out notes could be easily counterfitted meaning Every note would be worth paper, Resulting in their main producer, distributor to crumble with it. 

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