The Hidden Heir At Valaris Academy

Chapter 4: Elara Voss

Principal Vaughn studied Kael for a moment, then spoke gently.

“Is there anything you need before classes begin?” he asked. “Accommodation adjustments, supplies, orientation, anything at all.”

Kael shook his head politely. “Thank you, Principal. I’m fine.”

Vaughn nodded, faint relief crossing his face.

“Very well.”

A few quiet minutes passed. Then—knock, knock.

“Come in,” the principal said.

The door opened smoothly, and a lady stepped inside. She was striking, effortlessly beautiful.

She wore the academy’s formal female uniform, a fitted blazer with silver trim, a crisp white shirt beneath, and a knee-length skirt that moved gracefully as she walked. A slim identification badge rested at her chest. Everything about her appearance spoke of discipline.

She closed the door behind her and inclined her head respectfully.

“Good morning, Principal Vaughn.”

The principal returned the nod. “Good morning, Ms. Voss.”

He gestured toward Kael. “This is Kael. He’ll be joining the academy today.”

Then he turned to Kael. “Kael, this is Elara Voss, one of your teachers; she’ll take you to your class and help you settle in with the others. You're just two weeks late, so it won't be hard to get along with the others. If you need anything at all, she’ll be able to assist.”

Elara’s eyes shifted to Kael. For a brief moment, just a fraction of a second, surprise flickered across her face.

An Ashlander? she thought.

From a single glance, it was easy to tell. The worn coat, the mismatched shoes, the old backpack. He didn’t look like someone who belonged in Valaris Academy, an institution where even scholarship students carried themselves differently.

Since when did the academy accept village students? And what kind of support did he receive to make it this far, for the principal himself to summon me?

The questions rose instinctively, but she buried them just as quickly.

Her expression softened into a warm, professional smile.

“Hi, Kael,” she said kindly. “I’m Elara. I’m here to assist you.”

Kael looked at her.

For a brief moment, he paused. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that, she carried herself with confidence and calm, much like someone accustomed to responsibility.

He nodded once.

“Alright, Madam Elara,” he said respectfully.

Elara blinked, caught slightly off guard by his polite, steady, and composed tone. Then she smiled again.

“This way, then,” she said, turning toward the door.

Kael rose, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and followed her out of the office without another word.

The corridor outside the principal’s office was wide and bright. Students moved in orderly lines, their conversations hushed and polished.

Elara walked ahead at a steady pace, and Kael followed beside her, quiet, his backpack resting easily on one shoulder.

After a moment, she glanced sideways at him.

“Where are you from?” she asked casually.

“Berylan,” Kael replied.

Elara nodded once, as if confirming something to herself.

“That’s… quite far,” she said. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “Did you get in through a scholarship or some kind of educational support program?”

“No,” Kael answered plainly. “I applied and got it.”

Elara’s steps slowed just slightly, barely noticeable.

Applied… and got it?

Her brows drew together for a brief moment.

Valaris Academy wasn’t a place you simply applied to and walked into, especially not from the Ashlands. Even scholarship students went through layers of screening, interviews, and sponsorships.

He must be exaggerating, she decided quietly. Or trying to sound confident.

She didn’t press the matter. Her posture straightened, her expression returning to neutral professionalism as she continued walking.

Just then, her phone vibrated in her pocket.

She stopped near a column and answered it quickly, turning slightly away.

Yes… I understand,” she said after listening for a moment. “…Alright. I’m on my way.”

She ended the call and slipped the phone away, then turned back to Kael.

“I need to attend to something,” she said calmly. “Go ahead to class. I’ll be back shortly.”

She gestured down the corridor.

“Take this hall straight ahead. When you reach the central staircase, turn right. Your classroom is the second door on the left—Hall C, Level One.”

Kael nodded, memorizing the directions.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

Elara gave him a brief, polite smile before turning away, her heels clicking as she disappeared down another corridor.

Kael adjusted his backpack and continued forward on his own.

Meanwhile, the lecture was alive with sound. It was a beautiful, modern space with windows lining one side and long desks arranged in clean rows. Soft digital boards covered the front wall, glowing faintly with the academy’s emblem, while subtle lighting strips ran along the ceiling, giving the room a calm, upscale atmosphere.

Despite the elegance, the room was anything but quiet. Students filled nearly every seat; some leaned back casually with wireless earpods tucked into their ears, eyes locked onto their phones as their fingers scrolled endlessly.

Others sat with tablets and books spread neatly in front of them, quietly reviewing notes or flipping through pages. A few perched lazily on the edges of desks, laughing and talking in small groups, uniforms slightly loosened as they joked about classes, rankings, and weekend plans.

They were all freshman students, but unlike Kael, they've been here for two weeks.

Near the windows, two students argued animatedly over something on a screen, while another paced slowly between desks, speaking into a call with one earbud in.

Just then, the door slid open. The noise in the classroom dropped instantly. Chairs scraped hurriedly against the floor as students rushed back into their seats, earpods were pulled out, phones slipped away, and conversations died mid-sentence.

Everyone straightened, expecting a teaching staff member to walk in, but instead, a boy stepped through the doorway. Tall, looking quiet, and carrying an old backpack slung over one shoulder.

He looked nothing like them. His clothes were simple and worn, his coat slightly oversized, and his shoes weren't branded like the others. He stood out so sharply against the polished classroom that it felt almost unreal, like someone had placed him in the wrong scene entirely.

For a heartbeat, no one spoke, then whispers began to ripple through the room.

“Who’s that?”