Children who had seen social gatherings held at their homes several times just pouted their lips, but children who lived in relatively rural areas and had never heard poetry recitation looked troubled.

Although it seemed like equal education was provided if tuition was paid, there were so many aspects during Academy classes where prior knowledge accompanying one’s family background was advantageous.

“Of course, I will recite first, so you should focus on observing the correct posture when reciting. Understood?”

Yes, the children answered like angels.

Lord Sheridan recited the poem with an upright posture.

The short intervals between lines were regular, and his expressiveness in emphasizing important words was excellent.

Children who had seen recitation events attended by professional poets or banquets inviting minstrels guessed that although he said things like “Let’s leave the interpretation of words to the literature teacher,” he was actually excellent in literary sensitivity as well.

After finishing the recitation of a poem singing about the scenery of an autumn waterside, Lord Sheridan handed out papers with the poem written on them to the children. As if it was something used in this class every year, there were traces of wear here and there, but the paper itself was excellent.

“Idalia, you know poems well, don’t you? I’m envious of people who are good at these things because I have no artistic talent.”

At Megara’s kind words of praise, Idalia shyly averted her gaze. She mumbled a small thank you.

“How do you read something this long without your tongue getting twisted?”

Nicholas quickly lost interest in the paper and started playing with the boy at the same table. Lord Sheridan gave the children some time to savor the poem before asking.

“Is there anyone who can recite the poem from memory?”

Of course, the authors of classical poems did not create by writing their poems on paper to read. Literature during the period they were active was passed down orally by minstrels. Therefore, memorization was basic for students taking the Academy’s literature curriculum.

The students fell silent. There was no way they could memorize a fourteen-line poem so quickly. Megara was relaxed because she knew that what Lord Sheridan wanted was not ‘perfect memorization,’ but most of the children were busy rolling their eyes in bewilderment.

At that moment, one person said in a shrill voice.

“Neris, can’t you do it? You weren’t even looking at the paper.”

The entire class’s gaze turned to Neris’s table.

Enough time had passed since the semester started for it to be determined who sits where and with whom in almost all classes, so the children knew well which table Neris sat at and who sat with her.

Making someone else do something you don’t want to do, and publicly hurting their pride to prevent them from escaping was, of course, against etiquette. Lord Sheridan frowned slightly but asked Neris gently.

“Neris, would you like to try?”

Diane glared at Rhiannon who had just spoken. Rhiannon, who would have been flustered by receiving such a gaze under normal circumstances, stared at Neris with cold eyes.

To the children, it seemed that Rhiannon was bullying Neris. Nicholas grumbled in a voice low enough not to draw Lord Sheridan’s attention but loud enough for everyone at the same table to hear.

“She’s lost her mind.”

Megara smiled sweetly. However, seeing that smile, Idalia suddenly thought that Megara’s purple eyes held an icy sneer and flinched.

Neris, receiving the full attention of the class, lowered her eyes with an unreadable expression.

The children thought she was feeling uncomfortable. Of course, that was natural. Who would have already memorized a fourteen-line poem they were seeing for the first time?

Besides, she wasn’t from a family background likely to have attended many poetry recitals.

When Neris didn’t answer for the time it took to take two breaths, Lord Sheridan spoke in an even gentler voice than before.

“Neris, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. But taking courage is a good thing.”

As Neris remained quiet, the children’s atmosphere gradually turned hostile towards her, or rather, in the direction of finding her silence gratifying.

The positive curiosity from the beginning of the semester now seemed almost impossible to see. That was understandable, as the beautiful and noble Megara was ‘feeling uncomfortable’ with Neris.

My goodness, how arrogant, a daughter of a low-ranking knight getting into the advanced class and publicly embarrassing Megara. If Megara wasn’t so kind, many children would have already held Neris responsible.

Angarad Nine muttered with dark eyes.

“If you can’t do it, don’t act so high and mighty.”

Rhiannon, who usually ignored Angarad as if she didn’t exist, laughed loudly as if agreeing with this statement. Diane’s cheeks reddened with anger.

‘High and mighty?’

From Diane’s perspective, Neris had not acted high and mighty at all. What was high and mighty? Being actually intelligent? Reading a lot of books? Quietly reading and putting down the poem they were learning today? Did it mean acting high and mighty if you weren’t as stupid as them?

Just as Diane was about to step in to tell them not to talk nonsense, Neris made a small gesture visible only to Diane to stop her. Then she quietly stood up.

A wild goose floating on a lake in the deep autumn forest…….

Delicate poetic words were woven like silk from Neris’s small, red lips.

The children’s eyes widened at the intricate pattern created by the meticulous interweaving of volume, rhythm, and emotion of the words.

Neris’s slender wrists in brown sleeves that fit perfectly looked like autumn fruits, and her neatly clasped hands were as elegant as a classical statue.

Burning autumn leaves.

White birch bark.

Autumn migratory birds spreading steel wings.

Someone unknowingly sighed. Ancient poetry was supposed to be a passionate song, and what came out of Neris’s mouth was undoubtedly that. And exceptionally excellent at that.

“……so I shall wait.”

After saying the last word, Neris’s mouth closed. After a moment of silence, starting with Diane, one by one, they clapped. Clap, clap, clap. It wasn’t loud enough to startle birds into flight, but some people were quite enthusiastic in their applause. Lord Sheridan was one of them.

“Wonderful, Neris.”

Lord Sheridan, who was seasoned in social circles, always appeared kind but was actually a fastidious person. After all, if you’re not sensitive yourself, you can’t satisfy others. Even he couldn’t find any flaws in this recitation.

Is this normal? A child from a family without even a live-in tutor reciting a poem she saw for the first time today with perfect etiquette?

Many children were impressed, but on the other hand, they doubted this thought. Rhiannon’s face turned bright red as she sharply questioned.

“You, you already knew this poem, didn’t you? Why are you pretending to see it for the first time? This is ridiculous!”

Diane glared at Rhiannon, not backing down. However, before Rhiannon could retort, Neris spoke softly.

“What’s ridiculous is you.”

Under the gaze of those special violet eyes, Rhiannon unknowingly averted her eyes. And she fumed at the fact that she, a descendant of an ancient family, had shown such a sight in front of others.

“I saw this poem for the first time. How could I have seen something your friend wrote for you, teacher?”

“Who knows, maybe the teacher showed it to you first?”

“Rhiannon Berta.”

That remark couldn’t be overlooked. Lord Sheridan’s expression turned overtly displeased.

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

As a teacher of etiquette, Lord Sheridan didn’t use the word ‘accusation,’ but the smart children quickly understood its meaning. Rhiannon’s face turned pale this time. She mumbled and quickly made excuses.

“No, I didn’t mean… that.”

“Do you think that if you act recklessly and then say you didn’t mean any harm, others will accept it that way? ‘Nona’ must be comfortable.”

Diane pouted and grumbled. Neris was still looking at Rhiannon, and a smile gradually deepened on her lips.

“If you want, you make up anything now. I’ll memorize and show you. Why can’t I memorize something I’ve heard once?”

“Stop showing off!”

This time, Neris’s words were definitely showing off, some thought. Just as everyone’s antipathy towards Neris was about to take shape, Neris closed her eyes and began reciting.

Black white yellow red blue

Hot cold soft rough squishy

Moreover

On an autumn day!

Idalia unknowingly smiled upon hearing a poem she liked. Because it contained many easy and commonly used words, high-ranking nobles learned this poem once when they were young.

But what’s the meaning of reciting that four-line poem here…….

Oh, respected regents.

Oh, respected citizens.

Poor Titulai sees you.

Gathered in the square wearing such splendid clothes

Enjoying the death of a poet!

‘Huh?’

What is this? The poem Idalia knew was only four lines long and should have ended now. But Neris continued speaking without hesitation. Listening to the rhyme, it seemed to be by the same poet, but was there such content?

Other children were also bewildered like Idalia, but a few who knew what this situation was looked at Neris with disbelieving eyes.

‘Black, white, yellow, red, blue’ is widely known only for its interesting first four lines, but in fact, it was a long poem with over a hundred lines following. An ancient poet, Titulai, spoke directly to the contemporary regent Jujibe, was publicly humiliated, and then denounced the indifference of power.

Lord Sheridan didn’t stop Neris. Her recitation never broke, and as far as Lord Sheridan knew, not a single syllable was wrong.

With each line passing, Rhiannon’s face hardened.

……Poor, poor Titulai!

Pitiful, pitiful you all!

The last word of the poem ended. Neris, with a calm expression that showed no trace of pride, as if it were unbelievable that she had just recited a long poem in one breath, asked Rhiannon.

“You thought I couldn’t memorize fourteen lines?”

No one in this class could say that. Rhiannon, at a loss, slumped in her seat.

Idalia clapped her hands, smiling. She felt relieved to see Rhiannon being humiliated.

Before anyone noticed that Megara’s face had turned cold, Lord Sheridan stepped in.

“Very well done, Neris. Lord Lewis must be disappointed that you’re not in the first-year literature class. You could have given lectures when Lord Lewis was busy.”

Lord Lewis was the teacher in charge of the first-year literature class. As some children laughed out loud at those words, the atmosphere finally eased. Neris calmly offered a belated apology.

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

“Not at all. You showed a good example that fits today’s lesson topic.”

No matter how right and excellent, if it incurred others’ antipathy, it couldn’t be counted as good behavior in social circles. Neris’s apology reassured Lord Sheridan, and other children were also relieved. Children who viewed Neris relatively favorably began whispering with excited expressions.

As Neris sat down, she glanced at Megara. Megara was already chatting with Idalia, laughing as if nothing had happened. However, Neris could guess.

Who might have instigated Rhiannon to try to humiliate Neris.