[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/yg08lMW.jpg?1[/img][color=B0C4DE][h2]SEYRUN RIVIATHAN[/h2][/color][hr][color=gray][b]Sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ Cᴏᴜʀᴛʏᴀʀᴅ - ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇ́ᴍɪᴇ ᴅᴇ ʟ'ᴇsᴘᴏɪʀ [/b]
4ᴛʜ ᴏꜰ Sᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ, 1917[/color][hr][/center][indent][color=B0C4DE][i]"Fortune favors the bold."[/i][/color]

At least that was Seyrun's approach to everything in her life. She never thought that living at a slower pace, or being a prize for those seeking easy entry into her country's royalty, were good choices in life; or she didn't think so most of the time, at least. However, there were circumstances that always made Seyrun rethink her choices, one of such being the annoying heat of Southern Europa. Even on her fourth year attending to L'Espoir, Seyrun still didn't get used to it.

Nevertheless, Seyrun couldn't say that she had a bad time in the academy. In fact, whenever she went back home, she couldn't help but wait wistfully for the next term to begin. Perhaps introductory speeches grew old after the third time you listened to them but even that bit of boredom had its value if you looked deep enough.

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Seyrun arrived at the academy in her typical fashion: being as conspicuous as her otherworldly looks would allow her to. It never went as well as she'd like. Eventually, Seyrun had to stop here and there to greet a few girls — if her intuition was right — looked quite infatuated.

It was during one of those stops that Seyrun's eyes picked up the somber figure of a certain someone that was one of the few people that Seyrun was previously acquainted with. She couldn't call the relationship she had with Nadalena anything like as close as friendship, but it was certainly better than pure political relations; at least it was such from Seyrun's side of it.

"Excuse me, may I have a seat beside you?" A happily smiling Seyrun asked the gloomy looking Espenovan princess, after bidding farewell to the last group of girls and walking as silently as she could towards Nadalena, hoping to not be noticed until she was close enough.
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