Tuesday began like any other. Elara Wyrmshade blinked into the morning light filtering through her dorm window as Sylv pulled the curtains aside with far too much energy for the hour.
"Rise and radiate, your mechanical majesty," Sylv teased.
Elara groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "Please stop calling me that."
"But it's so fitting," Sylv replied with mock reverence. "Especially for someone about to revolutionize the kingdom. Again."
"It's not me, it's the product," Elara muttered. She lifted her head slowly, catching her own reflection in the mirror across the room. The faint gleam in her eyes, the elegant line of her cheekbones, the firm shape of her waist—all of it reminded her that her inventions were starting to leave more personal marks than she liked to admit.
Lyria, already halfway through braiding her hair, chirped cheerfully, "Big day, huh? Gonna go melt some noble minds again?"
"They're already half-melted if they think ditching horses won't cause panic," Elara muttered as she rolled out of bed.
Today was not a school day. In fact, it was much more than that: it was the public unveiling of her latest breakthrough—The Hover Carriage Drive. A compact magical propulsion system that could elevate and move a standard carriage using pure mana vectors. No horses. No wheels. No outdated roads.
And no one knew Elara was behind it.
With Sylv's help, Elara stood before her wardrobe, facing a choice that should've been simple. But Sylv and Lyria had other plans.
"You are not going to present a revolution in boring brown," Sylv declared, tossing a ruby-red dress onto the bed. "This is not a barn unveiling."
Elara stared at it. Conservative neckline, subtle lace embroidery, a matching pink-red gradient jacket. It was modest—by noble standards—but with her figure and the polished finish of her posture and curves… she knew exactly how it would look.
"I look like a rose someone painted to be expensive," she grumbled.
"That's the point," Lyria winked. "You're selling the future, girl. Might as well look like it."
By the time Elara finished dressing—heels, stockings, hair pinned in a refined twist—she looked like she belonged at court. Not a laboratory.
Unfortunately, she felt like both.
She sighed. "If I trip in front of the king, I'm inventing a hole to hide in."
"We'll patent it together," Sylv laughed.
Down in the entrance hall, Tolan waited. The moment he caught sight of Elara, his eyebrows rose in barely concealed surprise.
"Did I miss your birthday or is this a declaration of war on subtlety?"
"Shut up and open the carriage door," Elara muttered.
The Hover Carriage awaiting them gleamed with polished obsidian panels and soft gold trim. It floated a hand's width above the ground, pulsing gently with mana. Sleek, elegant, quiet. Elara's design had been realized to perfection.
Inside, they glided noiselessly through the city toward the Royal Exhibition Grounds.
Tolan raised an eyebrow. "You're actually wearing those heels comfortably now. You even walk like you mean it."
Elara rolled her eyes. "Don't read into it."
"I'm not reading, I'm admiring."
She narrowed her eyes. "I will throw you out of this carriage."
The Exhibition Grounds were buzzing. Nobles, scholars, and merchants swarmed the open courtyard lined with various magical prototypes. At the center, behind velvet rope and armored guards, floated the centerpiece: a silver-trimmed Hover Carriage with inlaid runework and a glowing propulsion engine at its core.
Elara's invention.
To the side stood the royal family. King Alvared, Queen Mirelen, and both princes—Cedric, the eldest and composed, and Erlen, the younger and… less composed.
Elara stepped out of the carriage with Tolan at her side. Immediately, both princes turned.
Erlen's jaw dropped. Cedric coughed. The King glared at both.
"Back. Now," Alvared growled.
Erlen backed off with a nosebleed.
Queen Mirelen, elegantly amused, whispered something to her husband. He groaned.
Tolan grinned. "You're breaking royalty now. That's a new one."
Elara crossed her arms. "I hate how normal this is becoming."
The demonstration began.
A royal engineer presented the Hover Drive, describing it as a joint anonymous donation by a benefactor and the Academy's research division. When the carriage lifted off the ground and hovered with flawless stability, the crowd erupted in gasps and murmurs.
The moment it began moving—smooth, gliding, without a single wheel—pandemonium began.
Nobles shouted over one another. A merchant waved a money pouch in the air. Another tried to climb over a guard.
Tolan leaned against a column, arms crossed, smiling smugly. "You ever think you'd break the economy before twenty?"
Elara stood beside the King, her arms still crossed, her expression unreadable.
"They'll riot," she said.
Alvared nodded slowly. "They already are."
She glanced toward the carriage. "No more horses. No more carts. No more farrier guilds. That's an entire industry gone."
"And a thousand new ones born in its place," the King said.
"They'll blame you for endorsing it."
"They'll blame you more, once they find out."
Elara flinched. "Let's not."
Alvared chuckled. "Don't worry, Wyrmshade. Your secret remains ours. But you understand why I needed to see you today."
She nodded. "To discuss fallout."
"And protection," he added. "Your inventions… They are changing our world. And changing the world has consequences."
Elara sighed. Her heels clicked gently against the stone as she turned away, her mind already three inventions ahead—and her heart just a little heavier.
Back at the dorm, Sylv was waiting.
"So," she asked, eyes glinting, "how many hearts did you shatter today?"
Elara kicked off her heels with a groan. "Shattered? I think I just started a class war."
"But make it fashion."
Elara collapsed onto her bed, one arm over her eyes. "I need a week of silence."
"You get three hours before dinner," Sylv said cheerfully.
Lyria poked her head in. "Also, there's a line of fanclub letters outside the dorm door again."
"Burn them."
"Already done."