The gardens were quiet that evening, hushed beneath the dusky veil of twilight. Lamps glowed like soft stars among the hedges, casting pools of warm light that bled into shadow. Kael stood beneath the hanging ivy of the eastern wall, hands behind his back, his thoughts as sharp as the chill in the air.
He didn't need to turn to know Lia had followed him.
"You shouldn't be here," he said quietly, not unkindly.
"I could say the same to you," she replied, stepping beside him. Her silver hair shimmered faintly in the lamplight, and though her posture was relaxed, there was tension coiled beneath it—like a blade sheathed but ready.
"I needed space," Kael said.
"I needed to see if you were all right," she answered. "After today… everything changed."
He glanced at her. "Did it?"
Lia looked at him—really looked. "You drew blood from a Talent. And not just any Talent. Ardyn Feros."
Kael didn't respond right away. His eyes drifted toward the moonlit sky. "He underestimated me."
"He won't do that again," she said softly. "Neither will anyone else."
A pause. A wind stirred the branches above them, scattering dry leaves across the stone path.
Kael exhaled. "I didn't come here to be noticed. I didn't want a fight."
"You didn't start it. He did."
"Maybe," Kael said. "But I ended it. That makes me a threat."
Lia tilted her head. "And you regret that?"
"No," he said, his voice firm now. "I regret how predictable it all is. A Learner wins once and suddenly the sky is falling."
She gave a small, rueful smile. "They weren't prepared for someone like you."
That was when the footsteps came—measured, deliberate. Kael turned his head slowly as Professor Salen emerged from the darkness beyond the hedge.
The older man's presence always carried weight, but tonight it felt different—like a stone dragged through still water. His robes swayed with each step, and the glint of a bronze insignia pinned to his collar caught the light.
Lia straightened. "Professor."
"Sneaking around after curfew?" Salen asked mildly. "Not very becoming of either of you."
Kael stepped forward slightly, placing himself between Lia and the professor without thinking.
"We're not sneaking," he said. "We're talking."
Salen arched a brow. "So I see."
He let the silence stretch a moment longer before adding, "You're summoned."
Kael frowned. "Summoned?"
"To the Royal Council chamber," Salen said. "At dawn."
Lia's eyes narrowed. "For what reason?"
"You bloodied a prince," Salen said, tone even. "They want answers. Publicly."
Kael kept his expression neutral. "And if I decline?"
Salen didn't smile. "You won't. Because refusal is considered an act of aggression. They'll drag you there. In chains if needed."
The breeze whistled faintly between the trees, but Kael stood as if rooted to stone.
"Why warn me?" he asked.
Salen studied him for a long moment. "Because I've seen this before."
Kael's gaze sharpened. "What do you mean?"
"Years ago," Salen said, voice low, "there was another Learner. Quiet. Brilliant. He challenged the wrong noble. Humiliated him. The court summoned him too."
"What happened?" Lia asked.
"No one remembers," Salen said flatly. "No record, no name, not even a mention. But I remember him, because he sat where you stood. And the next day… he was gone. Not killed. Erased."
Kael's blood chilled. "And you're telling me this why?"
"Because you might still have a choice," Salen replied. "Grovel. Apologize. Fade into the shadows. Maybe they'll let you live."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "And if I don't?"
Salen's lips curved—not a smile, but something colder. "Then don't make the mistake of thinking this is still a school. The moment you walk into that chamber, Kael, you're not a student. You're a threat to the Crown."
A pause.
Kael stepped forward, voice quiet but clear. "Good. Because I intend to be."
Salen turned sharply and strode back into the shadows without another word.
Lia looked at Kael, her voice tight with worry. "You're really going to go?"
He nodded.
"Alone?"
Kael met her eyes. "Wouldn't be the first time."
She hesitated. "I could go with you."
Kael's expression softened just slightly. "If I don't come back—"
"Don't say that," she said quickly.
"—then make sure they don't erase me."
Lia nodded slowly, her eyes glinting. "I won't let them."
But neither of them noticed the figure perched atop the stone wall behind them, crouched in the stillness. Cloaked in spell-forged light, the watcher had been there the whole time—silent, patient.
A dagger turned slowly in their gloved hand, catching moonlight just long enough to gleam.
They didn't move as Kael and Lia walked back toward the dormitories. They simply whispered into the wind, their voice caught in the threads of a spell only one master could hear.
"Target observed. He's alone at dawn."