Verena found herself once again face-to-face with the Prefect.
Honestly, the awkwardness was so heavy, she could slice it with a spoon.
After getting caught full sprint through the hallways, Celestine in tow like a particularly cheerful fugitive, they had been promptly hauled before the stern-faced authority figure.
And now here she was, standing like a scolded child with her hands behind her back, while the Prefect's eyes practically shot lightning.
"When do you ever learn?" the Prefect snapped, slapping a folder onto the desk. "The election is right around the corner, and yet the number of infractions in your record is staggering. Do you even want to win?"
Verena opened her mouth to argue because technically this wasn't her fault, but someone else beat her to it.
"I think you can forgive her," Celestine chimed in sweetly, stepping forward with a graceful tilt of her head. "I'm the one who asked her to step in for me."
Just like that, the room shifted.
