The sky was a pale gray, the paths of the academy streaked with the light sheen of rain. The rest of the week had been quiet. Or at least as quiet as it could be when you had to juggle Blessing Studies, etiquette training and the constant balancing act between high nobility and self-image.
On his way to the committee's final meeting, his path led him through the north wing, past the large windows that cast the light in long strips onto the floor. He turned the corner and stopped short.
Serena.
The usually so quiet, almost overlooked presence stood there in the corridor. Her eyes were fixed on an open notebook in her hand as she chewed her gum. Completely unimpressed by the rest of the hustle and bustle. Corin hadn't paid any attention to her in the last few days, like almost everyone else. But since the rankings, her name had come up more often. And higher up than he would have expected. She herself had ended up in the top 40. Below him, but still worthy of attention.
"You look like you're wondering how someone like i got into the top 40."
Without looking up, she closed the notebook. Her voice was soft, almost sleepy, but carried a quiet mockery.
Corin smirked. "I'm not saying anything. But you're right."
She put the notebook away and turned her gaze on him.
"I'm not a fighter. Not like Cearen or Blues. I prefer to take people apart with a plan. "
A twinkle in his eye.
"I'm just good at not dying. And better at getting others to do it for me."
She slowly started to move, and together they made their way to the committee room. The atmosphere in the Disciplinary Committee headquarters was surprisingly relaxed. Nomen was leaning against the window, a steaming cup of tea in his hand. Blues stood there, arms folded as usual and a challenging look on his face, while Ines slowly removed her gloves and folded them carefully.
"So, Corin," Nomen began in his usual calm tone. "First week with title. What do you say?"
"More attention. More expectations," Corin replied curtly.
Blues laughed. "Get used to it. Once you're up there, you'll look like a target with legs."
Ines pushed her black hair behind one ear. "You'll be fine. You think before you hit. That's rare here."
"And you're even talking to people by now," Serena murmured, stretching out on one of the sofas.
Nomen smiled. "We have a good group this year. Diverse, but useful even if we are still understaffed."
He raised his cup and toasted the group. "May it stay quiet."
"Or at least interesting," Blues added.
Everyone laughed. But there was that echo in Corin's mind again. Quiet was rarely good.
And if you were one of the names people remembered then "interesting" was often just a prelude to the next war.
The last words died away and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Until Ines finally brought up what was probably burning on everyone's tongue.
"Have you heard? The blood tournament qualifiers start next week."
Blues raised an eyebrow. "Already?"
"Mandatory for all students," Nomen confirmed, setting down his cup. "Even those who have no interest in the tournament. They want to see the state of the academy. Those who drop out are kicked out early. Those who go far are in the spotlight."
"Spotlight, rivals, fame, drama, it's all there," Serena added with a tired smile. "And it takes time. Lots of students. Lots of matches. The first rounds are usually just a clean-out."
Blues grinned wryly. "I like it. Nothing shows who you are better than when you're in the arena and no one's helping you."
Ines, on the other hand, frowned slightly. "The fights are serious. People have ended up in comas."
"I've seen worse," Corin muttered, more to himself.
Nomen nodded. "Prepare yourselves well. Even if it's only mandatory, don't underestimate anyone. And as soon as the qualis are over, the next social nightmare is coming."
"The inaugural ball," Serena said dramatically, sinking back. "Oh how I love being in close quarters with people."
"Dancing," Corin murmured softly, almost like an incantation.
A thought flitted through his mind, almost involuntarily. He still had one wish. Viviana had made that quite clear after the last assignment.
And who, if not her, would be the best dance teacher to prepare him for this ball?
His gaze wandered to the side, into the void. He couldn't let go of the idea.
A wish. A dance. A plan. He would ask her. But how she reacted, that was another story.
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The Virelii estate seemed different today. Heavier. Dense like a thunderstorm gathering on the horizon without discharging. The silver bars of the gate did not gleam in the morning sun as they usually did, and the guards, twice as many as usual today, scrutinized him longer than necessary before letting him through.
Corin entered, his eyes watchful. He already noticed it in the first corridor: Men and women in dark uniforms that were not part of the servants' uniform. They were standing at doors, moving through corridors like shadows with fixed destinations.
As always, he took the short detour to the gallery. It had become a strange place for him, half retreat, half trap when Viviana was waiting for him there. But today it was empty. Almost.
Because then he heard the voices.
He came to a halt. Behind the high wooden door, near the large hall where he had once met the patriarch for the first time.
"The nobility are planning something big. That's obvious."
The voice was strange. Full of sharpness and inner fire. "Why can't you see that? We must strengthen our position. Now. Or never."
A second, quieter whisper followed. Viviana tried to appease him. But Corin was no longer listening carefully. He didn't recognize this other voice, but it wasn't hard to guess who it belonged to.
Ellion Virelii had returned.
Viviana's older brother. The successor to the family. The man Viviana never really spoke of. Only hints, diplomatic. Smoothly. As if she had to protect his role.
Corin mentally settled the weight of those words. If he was back, then something was coming.
And if he spoke like that, so demanding, so convinced, then it was nothing small.