Vivienne walked several more steps before finally slowing down.
Only then did the conversation replay itself in her mind.
"...Damian..."
Her footsteps gradually came to a stop.
"...Blackwood."
Silence.
"..."
"...Wait."
She turned around instinctively, but the senior she had just spoken to had already disappeared into the crowd of students.
"Oh..."
A laugh escaped her lips.
"I just met Damian Blackwood."
She pressed the folded campus map lightly against her forehead.
"The Damian Blackwood."
The second male lead.
Anthony Ashford’s cousin.
One of the most popular seniors in St. Albion.
And, according to countless readers in the comments section of The Duchess’s White Moonlight, the one who suffered from the worst case of second male lead syndrome in literary history.
Vivienne chuckled to herself.
"No wonder..."
"He really is handsome."
Not just handsome.
Unfairly handsome.
The kind of handsome that made perfectly innocent girls forget what they were about to say.
She could still remember the brief moment their eyes met.
Heat quietly crept back to her cheeks.
"...Calm down."
She lightly fanned herself with the campus map before laughing at her own reaction.
"I’m twenty-nine."
"So why am I blushing like a teenager?"
A beat later, she answered her own question.
"...Because he’s ridiculously handsome."
She nodded once, thoroughly convinced by her own reasoning.
"Fair enough."
Then, almost immediately, another name surfaced in her mind.
Anthony Ashford.
The male lead.
The man she’d spent years reading about.
The man every reader had fallen in love with at least once.
A smile slowly found its way onto her lips.
"If Damian already looks like that..."
"I wonder just how handsome Anthony really is."
The thought alone was enough to make her grin.
"...I’m looking forward to it."
With noticeably lighter steps, she continued toward the freshman residence.
The West Hall stood on the quieter side of campus, surrounded by towering maple trees whose branches swayed gently in the late morning breeze.
Compared to the lively central courtyard, the atmosphere here was calmer.
Students pushed suitcases toward the entrance while residence assistants checked names against neatly organized lists.
Vivienne joined the short queue.
The young woman behind the reception desk smiled professionally.
"Good morning. Name, please."
"Vivienne Beaumont."
The receptionist looked down at her clipboard before her eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
"Miss Beaumont."
She quickly recovered her composure and smiled.
"Welcome to West Hall."
After a few signatures and a student identification photo that Vivienne was convinced she’d blinked during, she was handed a leather card holder embossed with the university crest.
Inside rested her student identification card.
Vivienne stared at it for a moment.
"So..."
"I’m officially a St. Albion student."
She couldn’t help smiling.
It felt strangely satisfying.
The receptionist slid a brass key attached to a polished wooden keychain across the counter.
"Room 314."
"Your luggage has already been delivered."
"Thank you."
She accepted the key and made her way upstairs.
The hallway was bright and pleasantly quiet, lined with polished wooden doors and tall windows overlooking the university gardens.
Stopping before Room 314, she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
"...Wow."
The room was larger than she’d expected.
Two neatly made beds occupied opposite sides of the room, each accompanied by a study desk, wardrobe and bookshelf.
French windows opened onto a small balcony overlooking a tree-lined courtyard where students wandered below.
Everything was elegant without being excessive.
Very St. Albion.
One side of the room was already occupied.
Books had been arranged neatly on the shelf.
A small framed family photograph rested on the desk.
Fresh flowers sat in a glass vase beside the window.
"So my roommate arrived first."
Vivienne smiled.
She hoped they would get along.
As she unpacked a few essentials, a knock sounded at the door.
Before she could answer, it opened cautiously.
A young woman peeked inside.
"Oh!"
"I thought someone was here."
She stepped fully into the room carrying two small boxes.
The young woman had short auburn hair that curled naturally around her jaw, bright amber-brown eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a dusting of faint freckles across the bridge of her nose. There was an infectious energy about her, the kind that made people feel comfortable almost immediately. Instead of graceful elegance, Claire gave off the impression of someone who laughed often and worried little.
"You must be my roommate."
Vivienne returned the smile.
"I suppose so."
The young woman set the boxes down before extending her hand.
"I’m Claire Whitmore."
"First year."
"It’s nice to meet you."
Vivienne shook her hand.
"Vivienne Beaumont."
Claire blinked.
"...The Beaumont?"
Vivienne laughed awkwardly.
"...That obvious?"
"A little."
Claire scratched her cheek sheepishly.
"My mother talks about noble families far more than I do."
"Sorry."
"No need to apologize."
Vivienne smiled reassuringly.
"I’m just another freshman who’s already gotten lost once today."
Claire stared for a second.
"...Really?"
"Mhm."
"I somehow managed to get lost within ten minutes of arriving."
Claire burst into laughter.
"Oh, thank goodness! I thought I was the only one!"
Vivienne laughed with her.
"It seems we’re off to a wonderful start."
The two girls looked at each other before laughing again, the awkwardness between strangers disappearing almost as quickly as it had appeared.
As the laughter faded, Vivienne glanced out of the window. Beyond the swaying trees, the rooftops of St. Albion stretched beneath the afternoon sun, bustling with students beginning another academic year.
A smile slowly spread across her face.
University life...
It really starts today.
Somewhere on this campus were Anthony Ashford, Damian Blackwood, Evelyn Sinclair, and countless other people whose stories she already knew by heart.
And now...
She was finally part of that story.
Her heart fluttered with anticipation.
St. Albion...
Please take good care of me.