Rose wasn’t keen on staying in the room any longer, especially when classes were already going on.
"Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. I’ll leave you to your space. See ya, man."
And just like a puff of smoke, she vanished.
Noah stared at the spot she had occupied moments ago before snorting.
Show off.
Left alone, he turned back to the mirror. His hand drifted to his face again, fingers brushing over impossibly smooth skin. Even now, he found it hard to believe this face belonged to him.
Or rather, belonged to the body he was currently occupying.
His fingers moved upward and touched the thick bandage wrapped around his forehead. Immediately, his expression darkened.
The injury.
The near-death experience.
What exactly had happened?
In the novel, nothing like this had occurred. Ashton had certainly suffered plenty, but Noah couldn’t remember any scene where he’d almost died like this. None of the male leads had attacked him either. At least not this early.
So why had things changed?
"Life would’ve been a lot easier if you’d made better decisions," Noah groaned. "Seriously, look where I ended up."
Leaving the mirror behind, he finally took a proper look around the room.
Instant regret.
The smell hit him first.
No.
Attacked him first.
Noah physically recoiled.
"Okay. I’m definitely going to rebrand this entire room because what the hell?"
The mess was unbelievable.
Clothes were scattered everywhere. Books were piled in random places. Empty containers occupied corners that shouldn’t have been occupied by anything.
Nothing looked organized.
Nothing looked normal.
Everything looked like a crime scene.
Noah felt an overwhelming urge to find the original Ashton and slap him.
Hard.
Walking toward the wardrobe in the corner, he pulled open the door and nearly gagged.
"Oh, come on."
The wardrobe somehow managed to be worse.
Every outfit inside was ugly.
Not just ugly.
Offensively ugly.
And why was everything brown?
Brown shirts.
Brown jackets.
Brown pants.
Brown scarves.
Brown everything.
Was the guy allergic to color?
The more Noah looked, the more horrified he became.
"Damn. There is literally nothing likable about this body."
As if agreeing with him, his legs suddenly felt weak.
Fatigue washed over him.
His body swayed slightly.
Noah grabbed the wardrobe for support.
"I’m doomed if this is how weak I am. How does someone get tired from walking a few steps?"
Unfortunately, resting wasn’t an option.
Not anymore.
Now that he understood the kind of person Ashton had been, there were several things that needed to change immediately.
Starting with this room.
The disaster had to go.
Noah rolled up his sleeves.
"Time for a makeover."
He glanced toward the opposite side of the room.
Unlike his side, it was spotless.
The bedsheets were neatly arranged.
The floor practically sparkled.
The desk looked organized enough to appear untouched.
Clearly, that belonged to his roommate.
Poor guy.
Living beside Ashton must have been torture.
"This body must’ve smelled terrible too because this is completely out of hand."
No wonder the male leads hated him.
This personality wasn’t doing him any favors.
Neither was the hygiene.
After cleaning, Noah planned to avoid the male leads altogether.
And the heroine too.
Especially the heroine.
The last thing he needed was for her to start thinking he was trying to steal her future husband.
As if he had time for any of that nonsense.
They could all go solve their own problems.
While cleaning, Noah found himself thinking about the attack again.
Someone had nearly killed Ashton.
That much was obvious.
The body had died.
Otherwise, Noah wouldn’t be here.
Which meant someone out there had wanted Ashton dead.
And that was a problem.
A very big problem.
Because Noah had no interest in getting murdered.
Finding out who attacked him immediately climbed to the top of his priority list.
Right below surviving.
And somewhere after that came figuring out why his appearance had changed.
Purple hair wasn’t exactly subtle.
"Seriously, that’s a lot of work."
Sighing heavily, Noah finally got started.
He picked up every dirty piece of clothing he could find and shoved them into one corner of the wardrobe.
Laundry could wait.
For now, simply making the room visible was enough.
Gradually, the floor began to reappear.
A miracle.
Once the clothes were out of the way, he moved on to the bed.
Then the desk.
Then the books.
There were dozens of them scattered across every available surface.
Most had strange titles Noah didn’t recognize.
One particular book immediately caught his attention.
Principles of Advanced Death Spells.
Noah froze.
His eyes widened.
"Wait."
He grabbed the book.
"Isn’t this forbidden magic?"
Quickly looking around, he flipped through several pages.
His expression grew increasingly horrified.
Why was a forbidden text sitting openly on Ashton’s desk?
More importantly—
How had Ashton gotten his hands on it?
Wasn’t he supposed to be powerless?
That was one of the most important facts about his character.
So why was a book about advanced death magic sitting here?
"Oh, great."
Another mystery.
Just what he needed.
Without hesitation, Noah shoved the book deep inside the wardrobe and buried it beneath a pile of clothes.
If anyone discovered it, he’d be finished.
The academy had strict rules.
Very strict rules.
And dark magic ranked near the top of forbidden practices.
Being caught with that book alone could ruin his life.
"Yep. This guy was definitely an idiot."
As Noah finished cleaning, the door suddenly opened.
Someone walked inside.
Noah glanced up.
The newcomer paused.
Just for a second.
Long enough to notice the room.
Long enough to notice Noah cleaning.
The shock on his face was obvious.
Noah almost laughed.
Poor guy.
He must have thought he’d entered the wrong room.
The boy didn’t greet him.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t even nod.
He simply stood there.
"Well, if he’s not talking, neither am I."
Noah shrugged.
Ashton might have been shameless, but Noah Evernight had standards.
The silence stretched.
The other boy continued staring.
Noah could feel the scrutiny.
Like he was being examined.
Judged.
Compared.
Yet there was no recognition in those eyes.
Only confusion.
As though he was looking at a complete stranger.
His gaze drifted toward Noah’s head.
Specifically his hair.
The purple hair.
Probably trying to figure out where that came from.
Despite his curiosity, the boy remained silent.
A few minutes later, he grabbed a book and left.
Just like that.
Noah blinked.
"Huh."
That was weird.
"Guess Ashton really was an ass."
The moment the room was finally clean, Noah’s stomach growled.
Loudly.
His eyes widened.
Right.
Food.
He hadn’t eaten anything.
No wonder he felt like he was dying.
The hunger became impossible to ignore.
But there was one problem.
Where exactly was he supposed to find food?
He didn’t know this place.
Didn’t know the layout.
Didn’t know where the cafeteria was.
Another growl answered him.
Louder this time.
"Okay, okay. I get it."
Moving toward the window, Noah glanced outside.
The sun was still high.
Bright morning light illuminated the academy grounds.
Checking the clock beside his bed confirmed it.
Nine o’clock.
Perfect.
"I’m getting myself a proper meal."
The hospital gown came off immediately.
After searching through the wardrobe, he settled on a white pair of pants, a white shirt, and a matching jacket.
The outfit actually looked decent.
The shoes, however, were another story.
White flat shoes.
Noah hated flat shoes.
Unfortunately, Ashton apparently loved them.
"Shopping is definitely happening soon."
After locking the room, Noah headed outside.
Finding the dining hall should’ve been easy.
It wasn’t.
The academy was massive.
Students moved everywhere.
Buildings stretched in every direction.
Within minutes, Noah was completely lost.
"Shit."
He turned another corner.
Still nothing.
As he searched for any sign pointing toward food, he failed to notice students suddenly moving aside.
Making way.
Creating a path.
A clear path.
For someone important.
Noah, unfortunately, was too distracted to notice.
Walking backward, he accidentally stepped on something.
A shoe.
A very expensive-looking shoe.
His heart immediately sank.
Slowly turning around, he found himself staring at polished black leather.
Then his gaze traveled upward.
And upward.
And upward.
Until he reached the owner’s face.
Noah froze.
Damn.
The guy was ridiculously attractive.
Like someone had stepped straight out of a painting.
"Eugene Haines!"
The surrounding students practically screamed the name.
Noah blinked.
Eugene Haines?
Why did that sound familiar?
Then realization struck.
Prince Eugene.
The heir to the throne.
Oh.
Oh no.
Around him, students began whispering frantically.
"Did he just step on the prince’s shoe?"
"He stepped on all three of them!"
"He’s dead."
"No one’s saving him this time."
"He’s definitely getting buried alive."
Noah rolled his eyes.
People were being ridiculously dramatic.
Nobody was getting buried alive.
Before he could say anything else, a powerful hand grabbed his arm.
The force caught him completely off guard.
Noah stumbled forward.
Their bodies collided.
Far too close.
Close enough for Noah to feel the warmth radiating from Eugene’s body.
Close enough to hear his breathing.
Close enough to be uncomfortable.
Way too uncomfortable.
Noah immediately frowned.
This was far too intimate for two strangers.
Eugene lowered his head slightly, his expression cold.
Dangerously cold.
"I know you’re trying to run."
His voice was calm.
Which somehow made it worse.
"But I’ve caught you now."
His grip tightened.
"Get on your knees."
The courtyard fell silent.
Then Eugene looked down at his polished shoe.
The one Noah had stepped on.
And his eyes narrowed.
"Lick the place where you stepped."
The world seemed to stop.
Completely.