Prologue

“How about giving up now?”

Julian spoke, wringing out a cloth dripping with water, to Beatrice, who was at a loss for what to do.

“I mean, we’ve already tried more than ten times, and it still won’t open. I don’t think that’s the right method.”

“But…! But it was written right there. Julian, you saw it too, didn’t you?”

A messy laboratory.

Beatrice, sitting anywhere she could in a place covered in a haze of dust, pleaded in a desperate voice, seeking agreement from Julian.

And then, she shifted her gaze to the ‘over there’ she had mentioned.

It was just a plain white wall.

The kind that’s everywhere, so ordinary that there’s no reason to pay attention to it. That’s why, more than anything, the current reality—that letters were suddenly floating above it—was hard to believe.

A plain wall.

Beatrice’s gaze toward that spot was filled with injustice.

Right after entering the laboratory, Beatrice had discovered the black letters written on the wall. Ink, or maybe paint. The letters did not have the texture they ought to. It was clearly a phenomenon created by magic.

If it had been the old Beatrice, she would have been startled and flustered, but she began with a calm, deep breath.

This was the Academy, a place where those who majored in magic gathered. Here, things Beatrice could never have imagined were possible through magic.

This time would be no different.

Thinking that way, the words springing from the wall felt like just someone’s trivial prank.

Instead, a small curiosity even began to rise.

You can only leave if you wash the rag.

Why that phrase, of all things?

Was it a warning created by someone because the laboratory was too dirty?

Or was it just a meaningless phrase?

Or maybe, was it a sentence with some metaphorical meaning?

One question led to another. Instead of asking Julian about the letters, Beatrice tried hard to focus on brewing the potion.

Firstly, she’d only just realized that reacting to every bit of magic made her seem out of place among the Academy students.

Secondly, from the moment she entered the laboratory, Beatrice just wanted to get out of there quickly.

Time with Julian always made her tense.

So, to finish the assignment and part ways with Julian as soon as possible, ignoring the words on the wall seemed the right thing to do.

The problem came after that.

After finishing the experiment, the door really wouldn’t open.

At first, Beatrice smiled as she tried the doorknob, but her expression gradually faded.

“Julian. The d-door won’t open. Why, why is that?”

With a bewildered face, Beatrice looked up at Julian.

“Who knows?”

But Julian only smiled as if he knew nothing, shrugging his shoulders.

Frustrated by his irresponsible attitude, Beatrice stamped her feet and looked around, then rushed straight to the faucet beside the cleaning supply cabinet.

Since it was a laboratory for brewing magical potions, one side was equipped with cleaning tools and a faucet.

And there was a rag.

A dirty rag that had never been properly washed.

It was so filthy that its original color was impossible to guess, but Beatrice didn’t hesitate to reach for it.

First, she rinsed the rag in water.

She wrung it out tightly, shook off the water, and shouted to Julian to check if the door would open.

But the answer that came back was a despairing “No, it’s still locked.”

Beatrice didn’t give up.

Second, she soaped up the rag.

She washed and washed, but the rag was so dirty that blackish water kept running off.

‘It’s because I didn’t wash it properly!’

So, Beatrice rinsed the rag again in clean water.

But still, the door wouldn’t open.

Not trusting Julian, Beatrice checked the door herself. Julian’s words were true. Really. The door truly wouldn’t open.

After that, she repeated washing, rinsing, and wringing the rag more than ten times.

But despite her efforts, the door showed no sign of opening.

“Ugh…”

Beatrice sat down in despair.

Julian watched her, a playful smile on his lips.

“Maybe that’s not actually a rag?”

“Julian, do you see this filthy thing as a fluffy towel or something?”

What else could possibly be considered a rag, if not a piece of cloth used to wipe all sorts of things and then tossed aside carelessly?

Beatrice looked at Julian with eyes full of resentment, but as soon as their eyes met, she quickly averted her gaze.

Julian Sancio.

He was three years older than Beatrice, who had just turned twenty-one, and the youngest son of the Marquis Sancio family.

He was also a very famous figure.

Rumor had it that, even before the unbelievable gossip spread about him entering the Academy—despite having no particular interest in academics or any outstanding talent for magic—Julian Sancio’s name was already well-known throughout society.

It was said that perhaps his father, Marquis Sancio, had spent a fortune behind the scenes for his wayward son, or maybe the Academy Dean’s wife was close to Marquis Sancio’s wife.

All sorts of rumors and speculation about his admission, combined with Julian Sancio’s arrogant attitude of kicking away the luck that came rolling in by refusing to enter the Academy, only fueled people’s interest.

However, the nickname Julian earned within the Academy had nothing to do with his family’s wealth or his abrasive personality.

At the Academy, Julian Sancio was called this:

Shining Rag.

Also known as Platinum Rag.

It was a nickname openly used for Julian, whose number of relationships and breakups far exceeded his days of attending classes during his time at the Academy.

New students, hearing stories about Julian from their seniors, would often ask similar questions:

If he’s a rag, why add ‘shining’ or ‘platinum’ as descriptors?

To such questions, seniors would reply with a meaningful look, saying, “You’ll understand when you meet Julian Sancio.”

And those who met him soon understood the reason for his nickname.

Platinum Rag.

The nickname came from his dazzling appearance.

His snowy white hair shimmered like sunlight reflecting off fresh snow, and his eyes, sometimes reminiscent of well-aged wine, other times like amethyst filled with light.

Unlike most wizards, who tended to be small and skinny, Julian had a tall, well-built figure.

His radiant looks were enough to feel like a gift from the gods.

“Why not take a break? Maybe you’re too flustered right now and your mind’s gone blank.”

At that moment, Julian’s voice sounded.

Beatrice, lost in thought, involuntarily shivered in surprise.

Having originally attended seminary and now studying at the Academy as an exchange student, Beatrice had never had any connection with men—especially not with someone as handsome as Julian, and certainly not with a man known for his many relationships with women.

Every little action or word from Julian put Beatrice on edge, like a rabbit facing a wild beast.

Beatrice sat down on the floor near the faucet, keeping her distance from Julian.

A room they couldn’t leave.

The room was so eerily quiet, as if time itself had stopped and all outside noise was completely blocked out, that she couldn’t help but become aware of the other’s breathing.

How did things end up like this?

‘I just wanted to finish my assignment…’

To hide her anxiety, Beatrice bit her lower lip.