The private dining room was a sanctuary of velvet and glass, tucked away from the murmuring tide of Valebourne's noble quarter. Sunlight spilled through tall windows, washing over a table draped in silk the color of pale dawn. Crystal flutes glittered beside porcelain plates crowned with steaming delicacies—pheasant glazed in honeyed wine, golden-crusted bread, bowls of orchard fruits glowing like jewels.
Elias sat halfway sprawled in his chair, tearing into a slice of bread as though the morning had been a battlefield. "Finally," he muttered around a mouthful. "Real food. I thought Maison Verrayne was going to starve us to death with compliments."
Tamsin laughed, tossing her bright hair over her shoulder as she reached for a sugared pastry. "Oh, come on. You were eating that attention up like a feast."
"I was not," Elias said flatly, pointing a buttered knife at her.
"You preened every time they measured your shoulders," Tamsin shot back, grinning wickedly. "Next time, flex harder. Maybe they'll sculpt a statue."
Elias groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Someone please take her away."
"Not likely," Raffin said dryly, slicing into his pheasant with slow precision. "She seems rather committed."
Lilith sipped her tea in silence, eyes glinting with the faintest edge of amusement as the banter rippled around her. The calm suited her—a quiet pocket of normalcy before the storm of Academy life descended.
From the corner, Caelum closed the ledger he'd been reviewing and stepped forward. "Everything is settled," he said, his tone as smooth as polished steel. "Deliveries will reach the manor by nightfall. I'll see to the rest." His eyes lingered on Lilith for a breath, a silent question she didn't answer, before he inclined his head. "Enjoy your meal."
And with that, he was gone, the door closing behind him with a muted click.
The private dining room was quiet but not silent for long. Elias lounged back in his chair, swirling the stem of his glass idly. "So," he said, tone deceptively casual, "any bets on who's going to end up crying first during training?"
Tamsin grinned like a fox. "My bet's on Vivienne Halden. She's got a mouth bigger than the Empire, but I hear she fainted during the last endurance drill."
"Tamsin," Raffin said sharply, though his voice stayed low and even. "You shouldn't repeat rumors like that."
"Oh, come on," she shot back, waving him off. "It's not a rumor, it's a fact. My cousin saw her keel over like a sack of flour."
Lilith's fingers brushed the rim of her teacup, her voice smooth. "If you're planning to make enemies before term begins, you're off to an excellent start."
"Enemies make life interesting," Tamsin said without a hint of shame.
"Until they make life short," Raffin countered, leaning back with a sigh.
Elias smirked. "I'm starting to think I need to place bets on how long you two survive the first month."
"Long enough to outlast you," Tamsin quipped.
"Please," Elias said, stretching like a cat. "Sword drills will kill half the class before I break a sweat."
Tamsin barked a laugh. "You're twelve."
"And still better with a blade than half the idiots we saw at exams," he shot back, grinning.
"She's not wrong," Raffin murmured.
"Traitor," Elias said, jabbing his fork at him.
Lilith allowed the smallest smile to ghost her lips as she set her cup down. "Perhaps we should save the duels for the Academy grounds, unless you intend to turn this room into a practice hall."
Tamsin grinned wider. "Tempting."
By the time they left the restaurant, the sun started its dive, spilling molten light across Valebourne's streets. Carriages rattled over polished stone, their wheels flashing like mirrors. The crowd had thickened—nobles in layered finery drifting between jewel-box boutiques, laughter trailing like perfume.
Their destination stood at the far end of an arcane lane where glass domes glittered like captured stars; The Obsidian Atelier. Its doors loomed like a spell carved in black marble, runes crawling across the arch in shifting silver.
Inside, magic thrummed like a heartbeat. Shelves of enchanted glass floated in midair, carrying vials of ink that shimmered with starlight and conduits pulsing faintly in their crystalline cages. Wisps of glyph-light curled along the walls, whispering in tongues older than empire.
"Okay," Elias said as they stepped inside, brows rising. "This place feels… cursed."
"It feels alive," Lilith corrected softly, her gaze sweeping the glimmering displays.
"It feels expensive," Tamsin said bluntly, whistling low as a rack of attunement crystals drifted past, each one glowing like molten jewels. "You're sure you want me in here? Because I could break something by breathing on it."
"Then breathe carefully," Lilith replied without looking back.
An attendant in flowing indigo robes approached, bowing low. "Lady Silford," he murmured, voice hushed as though the shelves themselves were listening. "We are honored. May I assist you in selecting your conduits?"
Lilith nodded once. "Fire, water, air, and earth. The finest sets you have."
The mage's smile deepened as he glided toward a display case. With a flick of his fingers, four crystals rose into the air like captured stars—one pulsing orange as a heart aflame, another blue as a frozen sea, the third green like storm-tossed leaves, the last gold as sunlight over stone. They drifted into a velvet-lined case, the air humming faintly with power.
"Perfect," Lilith said simply.
"Anything else, my lady?"
"A rune-carving kit," she added, and within moments a case of silver-inlaid tools and ink vials the color of midnight slid across the counter.
While Lilith oversaw the selection with serene precision, Tamsin prowled the shop like a cat in a treasury. "Gods, look at this wand," she breathed, snatching up a slender length of emberwood veined with molten gold. The phoenix-feather core pulsed faintly under her touch. "This one practically screams set something on fire. I need it."
"You already bought a wand," Raffin reminded her, trailing behind with the weary patience of a man used to her chaos.
"Yeah, and now I'm buying another," Tamsin shot back. "Lil, you don't mind, right?"
Lilith didn't even glance up. "I expected nothing less."
Elias, meanwhile, leaned against a column, arms folded as he watched a rack of spell-scrolls unroll themselves midair. "You mages," he muttered. "Give you a shiny rock and you lose your minds."
"Don't be jealous," Tamsin called without turning. "Not everyone can make things explode."
"Exploding isn't a personality trait," Elias countered.
"Tell that to Halden," Tamsin quipped.
Lilith's lips curved faintly as she signed the ledger, her selections vanishing into cases that shimmered before winking out—bound for Thorne Manor under layers of enchantment.
When all was done, the four stepped back into the sun-drenched street, the day gilded in the warm glow of triumph and teasing laughter.
At the edge of the marketplace, they lingered a while longer. Tamsin swung her new wand in a lazy arc, earning a scandalized look from an elderly mage passing by. Raffin stood beside her, arms crossed, expression placid but lips twitching at her antics.
"This was… not terrible," Tamsin said finally, her grin wicked as ever. "You know, for a day spent drowning in silk and glowing rocks."
"You're welcome," Lilith replied, her tone dry but warm at the edges.
Raffin offered a slight bow—habit more than necessity. "Until next time."
Elias clasped his forearm in a brief shake. "Next time, no gowns," he muttered.
"Next time," Tamsin cut in, slinging an arm around Elias's shoulders, "we're starting with lunch and ending with Firewine."
"Noted," Lilith said as she turned toward the waiting carriage, the Silford crest gleaming like blood and silver under the fading sun while Caelum stood at the side of the open door, ready to help her climb up.
They boarded in silence, the hum of the city fading behind them as the wheels began their steady rhythm over the cobblestones. Lilith let her gaze drift to the window, the sapphire sky bruising toward dusk.
And then she felt it.
A whisper, thin as smoke, threading through the pulse of the city. Cold and black, tasting of forbidden silence.
Chaos.
It was faint, so faint she almost doubted it—almost. But the air prickled against her skin, a vibration that slid beneath her bones like a knife drawn slow.
"Stop the carriage," she said, her voice quiet but cutting like steel as she tapped the wood with her hand to signal the driver.
Elias blinked. "What—?"
Caelum raised one of his eyeborws. "My lady..?"
"Now."
The driver hauled the reins, and the carriage jolted to a halt. Outside, the world stilled—streets murmuring in the distance, the hiss of wind curling through alleys.
Caelum shifted across from her, eyes sharpening with silent calculation. "What is it?" His tone was soft, but there was a weight beneath it, a coiled readiness like a blade in shadow.
Lilith's eyes narrowed as she pressed a palm to the glass, her reflection staring back like a shadow fractured in green fire.
The whisper came again. Stronger. Closer.
"Chaos," she murmured. "Faint… but near."
Caelum's hand rested lightly on the hilt at his hip, though his voice stayed calm. "Direction?"
Lilith's fingers curled, her jaw tightening. "The back alley, over there," she said, pointing to a dark alley near where the carriage stopped.