Diane was about to interject, telling her not to talk nonsense, but Neris stopped her with a small gesture visible only to Diane. Then she quietly stood up.

A flock of geese reflected in the deep autumnal forest lake…

From Neris’s small, red lips, delicate poetry wove out like silk.

Volume, rhythm, emotion of the poetry – the three intertwined meticulously, leaving the children with wide eyes at the dazzling patterns created.

Neris’s slender wrists, fitted with brown sleeves, were like autumn fruit, and her neatly folded hands were as graceful as classical sculpture.

Blazing autumn foliage.

The white bark of the birch tree.

The autumn bird spreading steel wings.

Someone unknowingly sighed. The ancient poem had to be a passionate song, and what came from Neris’s mouth was undoubtedly that – and quite extraordinary at that.

“…so I wait.”

After speaking the last word, Neris’s mouth closed. A brief silence flowed before applause began with Diane. Clap, clap, clap. Not enough to startle the birds, but there were those who clapped quite passionately. Even Lord Sheridan was one of them.

“Wonderful, Neris.”

In social circles, Lord Sheridan, who always seemed kind but was actually fastidious, couldn’t find any faults with this recitation.

Was this normal? A child from a home without even a livein tutor, reciting a perfect poem, a poem she saw for the first time today?

Many children were impressed, but some were suspicious, thinking that way. Lianon’s face turned red, and she snapped sharply.

“You, you knew this poem already, didn’t you? Why pretend it’s the first time? How funny!”

Diane glanced scornfully at Lianon, but before she could retort, Neris spoke softly.

“The funny thing is you.”

Under the gaze of those special purple eyes, Lianon involuntarily averted her eyes. And then she exploded with anger, realizing she had shown such a face in front of others.

“I saw this poem for the first time. How could I have seen something written by the teacher’s friend?”

“Don’t you know? The teacher showed you first?”

“Lianon Berta.”

That was something that couldn’t be ignored. Lord Sheridan made a blatantly displeased expression.

“Are you saying that I violated school rules for a particular student?”

As a teacher of social graces, Lord Sheridan didn’t use the word ‘accuse,’ but the intelligent children quickly understood his meaning. Lianon’s face turned pale this time. She stammered, quickly backpedaling.

“No, I mean… I didn’t mean that.”

“Do you think that people will accept it if you act arbitrarily and then say you didn’t mean anything bad? How comfortable your ‘no’ must be.”

Diane pouted her lips and grumbled. Neris still looked at Lianon, and a smile gradually appeared on her lips.

“If you want, you can make up anything right now. I’ll memorize it and show you. Why can’t I memorize something after hearing it once?”

“Don’t act high and mighty!”
Neris’s words this time are certainly arrogant, some thought. Just as everyone’s resentment towards Neris began to bristle and take shape, Neris closed her eyes and began to recite.

Black, white, yellow, red, blue

Hot, cold, soft, rough, squishy

And even

On an autumn day!

Aidalia unknowingly smiled as she listened to the poem she loved. Because it contained simple and commonly used words, the high nobles usually learned this poem as children.

But what’s the meaning of reciting this fourline poem here……

Oh, respected magistrates.

Oh, respected citizens.

Poor Tittley sees you.

You all, dressed in splendid clothes, gathering in the square

To enjoy the death of a poet!

‘Huh?’

What’s that? Aidalia knew the poem only up to four lines and it should have ended by now. But Neris continued to speak without hesitation. The rhymes sounded like they were from the same poet, but was there such content?

The other children were also confused like Aidalia, but a few who knew the situation looked at Neris with disbelief.

‘Black, white, yellow, red, blue’ were only known for the interesting first four lines, but in fact, it was a long poem extending over a hundred lines. An ancient poet, Tittley, openly insulted the contemporary magistrate Juzibe and was publicly humiliated, and then condemned the indifference of power through this poem.

Duke Sheridan did not stop Neris. Her recitation was never interrupted, and as far as Duke Sheridan knew, not a single syllable was wrong.

Line by line, Lionel’s face hardened.

……Poor, poor Tittley!

Pitiful, pitiful you all!

The last word of the poem ended. Neris looked surprisingly calm and showed no hint of pride as she asked Lionel, “Did you think I couldn’t memorize fourteen lines?”

No one in the class could say that. Lionel, not knowing what to do, collapsed on the spot.

Aidalia clapped her hands and laughed. Seeing Lionel humiliated was refreshing.

Someone noticed Megara’s face turning cold before Duke Sheridan stepped in.

“You did very well, Neris. Duke Lewis must be sorry that you didn’t take the firstyear literature class. You could have taught the class when Duke Lewis was busy.”

Duke Lewis was in charge of the firstyear literature class. A few children laughed at his words, and the atmosphere finally lightened. Neris calmly asked for forgiveness for being late.

“I’m sorry. I took up a lot of class time, didn’t I?”

“No. You provided a good example for today’s lesson topic.”

Even if it’s right and excellent, if it leads to resentment from others, it cannot be considered good social behavior. Duke Sheridan was relieved at Neris’s apology, and the other children were also relieved. Those who relatively liked Neris began to chatter excitedly.

Neris glanced at Megara as she sat down. Megara was already chatting with Aidalia and laughing as if nothing had happened. But Neris was suspecting.

Who might have instigated Lionel to embarrass Neris?