Alaric laid down on his bed in the dorm room. Staring at the ceiling.
There was a crack running through the plaster. Started near the corner, zigzagged across to somewhere above Oliver's bed.
Yeah, he was bored.
His body had recovered from the yesterday's fight. The minor cuts were already healed. And now he was just... lying here.
Waiting for classes to resume or whatever they planned to do next.
"What if they come back?"
Oliver's voice cut through the silence.
Alaric didn't bother looking over. "They won't."
"But what if they do?" Oliver was sitting up on his bed, knees pulled to his chest.
"I mean, they hit the capital. If they can do that, what's stopping them from attacking here? All the noble heirs in one place—"
Alaric sighed.
"The academy has better defenses than those civilian districts."
"So did those nobels and officials." Oliver's voice pitched higher.
