Several days later...
The days that followed did not pass gently. They dragged. They piled. They brought with them that peculiar kind of fatigue that had nothing to do with bruises or blood loss, and everything to do with being watched.
Ludwig had crossed deserts and rivers of souls, had felt the gaze of things older than kingdoms, yet the Academy's attention was its own brand of torment: constant, clingy, and somehow confident it was doing him a favor.
"Sir Ludwig!"
The shout bounced off black stone and high arches, the sort of echo that made the tower halls feel like they were always speaking back.
"No!"
Ludwig didn't slow. His steps were quick and annoyed, boots tapping a hard rhythm against polished floors that had been worn smooth by centuries of important feet. He kept his eyes forward like a man pretending the world behind him didn't exist.
"Senior Ludwig!"
The voice came from the side this time, sweetened, cautious, as if changing the title might change his answer.
