The late afternoon sun dipped lower over the capital city of Valtorin; Valebourne, casting long shadows across the Academy's marble courtyard as the children spilled out from the practice fields. The sharp tang of steel and burnt ozone still lingered in the air, clinging to their clothes like ghosts of the trials they had just endured.
Lilith fell into step beside Elias as they threaded through the dispersing crowd. Relief softened the rigid line of her shoulders, but it was tempered by the weight of eyes following them. Whispers pricked at her back—soft, darting words spoken too low to catch but heavy enough in tone to guess their meaning.
"Gods," Tamsin muttered from Lilith's left, tossing her blonde strands over one shoulder. "If one more idiot stares like that, I swear I'll rip their eyeballs out and juggle them."
Lilith arched a brow. "Tempting, but unnecessary."
"Unnecessary my ass." Tamsin shot a glare at a pair of students whispering behind their hands. "You humiliated Vivienne, and Elias turned that slab of meat Callen into a bloody lawn ornament. Of course they're gawking."
"They'll forget soon enough," Raffin rumbled from behind them, his voice calm, if a little hoarse after his match. He shifted the weight of his sword against his shoulder, his broad frame cutting through the smaller bodies around them.
Tamsin barked a laugh. "Forget? Please. Half these bastards live for gossip. Vivienne's going to stew on this for years." She leaned forward just enough to catch Elias's eye. "And you—what the fuck was that? You move like water, then you stick the hilt in his ribs like you're trying to pop a cork. Beautiful work, Silford."
Elias gave her a faint, almost shy smile. "He was overextending. Made it easy."
"Easy, he says." Tamsin snorted. "Gods help whoever actually pisses you off."
Lilith allowed herself a soft chuckle. "You seem very invested in our reputation."
"Damn right I am," Tamsin said, grinning. "If I'm going to be seen walking next to the highest-ranking brats in the Empire, I want people to know we're the terrifying kind, not the boring kind."
"Subtle as ever," Raffin muttered, though there was a trace of a smile tugging at his mouth.
The four of them reached the main gates, where the crowd thinned. Beyond the wrought iron, carriages gleamed in the amber light, liveries bearing the sigils of noble houses. One stood apart from the rest—a sleek black coach with silver trim, the crest of House Silford emblazoned proudly on its door:
A golden tree rising against a crimson field, silver roots sprawling wide beneath it, and a black sword driven into the earth before the trunk, its blade entwined by curling roots like a sentinel at rest.
The sight drew another wave of whispers from the lingering students.
"Gods above," Tamsin said under her breath, her grin widening. "That thing looks like it could eat the other carriages for breakfast."
"Caelum doesn't do modest," Lilith murmured.
At the far end of the courtyard, Vivienne Halden stood with her attendants, her posture flawless, her expression a mask of cold poise—but her fingers dug into the folds of her skirt, knuckles white. Her pale eyes locked on Lilith like shards of ice. She said nothing. She didn't need to. The promise of retribution was written in every rigid line of her frame.
Lilith met her gaze for the briefest moment before turning away, climbing into the waiting carriage without a word.
"See you two soon?" Tamsin called after them, hooking a thumb toward Raffin. "We'll be at our family townhouses. Drinks after results?"
Elias raised a brow. "At fourteen?"
Tamsin grinned like a wolf. "Juice counts."
Raffin shook his head with a sigh, but his eyes were warm. "Until then."
The door shut behind the Silford siblings with a soft click, muffling the hum of whispers outside. The carriage lurched into motion, wheels whispering over cobblestones as Valebourne's spires caught the dying light.
Lilith sat back against the velvet seat, her gaze slipping to Elias. He looked out the window, quiet, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. There was a shadow of thought in his eyes—one that mirrored her own.
The tests were over. But the real games were only beginning.
The carriage glided smoothly over Valebourne's cobblestone streets, its polished black panels catching the evening light like still water. The crest of House Silford gleamed proudly on its doors.
Passersby turned to watch as the coach rolled past, whispers following in its wake like drifting smoke. The Silford name was more than a title; it was a shadow that loomed large, stretching back to the Empire's birth.
Inside, the world was velvet and quiet. Cushioned seats, dark mahogany trim, the faint scent of leather polish and crushed lavender. Lilith sat with one leg crossed, her emerald eyes reflecting the dying light through the window. Elias leaned beside her, posture loose but his grip on his sword still firm, like a habit he couldn't shake even in safety.
For a while, neither spoke. The hum of the wheels filled the silence, steady and calm after a day carved sharp with tension.
Finally, Lilith turned her gaze from the city spires to her brother. "You didn't tell me you were planning to embarrass a Viscount's son."
Elias gave a faint smile, his tone mild. "Wasn't planned. He just made it easy."
Her brow lifted. "And Professor Vael?"
At that, something flickered across his face—quick, almost shy, but there. "He asked about my training." Elias looked down at his hands for a beat, then back up. "Said I had good form. And… he suggested I try dual-wielding."
Lilith tilted her head, studying him. "Dual blades." The words carried a note of intrigue. "You'd like that?"
"I think so." His fingers tightened briefly on the hilt resting against his thigh. "It feels… right."
Lilith smiled, soft but edged. "If Dorian Vael sees potential in you, you'd be a fool to ignore it."
Elias smirked faintly. "I didn't plan to."
The carriage turned a corner, and the rhythmic clatter of wheels softened as they moved into the quieter, wealthier district. Beyond the glass, Valebourne's bustle gave way to broad, lantern-lit avenues lined with grand townhouses, their windows glowing like molten amber.
She let her gaze drift back to Elias. "Whatever happens next," she said quietly, "we don't give them reason to doubt us."
Elias met her eyes, steady and sure. "We won't."
Outside, the city unfurled like a sea of gold and shadow, and somewhere beyond the glow of lanterns, the Thorne manor waited—along with whatever storms were brewing on the horizon.