Kael woke to the sound of birds outside, not to the usual chime of the bell announcing breakfast.

  He got up, stretched at length, a peaceful smile on his lips, then went to bathe his battered body in the bathroom, like a ritual he was finally reclaiming.

  When he returned, he found a brand-new uniform neatly laid out on his desk. It smelled of lavender and freshness.

  He put it on slowly, savoring the feel of clean fabric against his skin.

  It had been a long time since he’d felt this clean, he thought.

  He then stopped in front of the bathroom mirror. His eyes were still ringed with dark circles, perhaps even a little more than usual. He had taken the time to untangle his hair. His face looked slightly thinner, his cheeks a bit more hollow, but nothing alarming.

  Suddenly, his stomach growled insistently.

  "Fuck, I’m starving," he muttered.

  But instead of heading down right away, he decided to do something he hadn’t had the luxury of doing since his arrival: look through his personal library.

  He ran his fingers along the spines, read a few titles, put others back. Nothing seemed particularly interesting.

  Then a book bound in black caught his eye. Codex on Dominant Traits.

  The cover itself was unremarkable, but the word codex immediately gave it an air of mystery and importance.

  He took it, sat down on his bed, and began to open it.

  But at that moment, the bell finally rang.

  "Ah! Finally."

  He closed the book, tucked it under his arm, and left his room, heading down toward the bearers’ hall.

  Kael arrived in a crowded bearers’ hall, as usual.

  But this time, he immediately noticed that the looks directed at him had changed.

  Before, they had looked at him like a fly in the soup. Today, it was different: curiosity, surprise… almost interest.

  "That’s already an improvement," he murmured.

  He spotted an empty section of table and sat down. He set his book on it, keeping one hand resting on the cover. A few seconds later, a servant approached.

  "Here you are, for you, Mister Kael."

  Surprised, Kael thanked him briefly, then began to eat. This time, he made an effort to sit properly and eat neatly.

  Once the rhythm of his meal had settled, he opened the book that had sparked his curiosity.

  “Codex on Dominant Traits.”

  He read silently:

  “This codex gathers all known information regarding Dominant Traits and their potential origins.”

  Intrigued, Kael turned the page.

  “When Elan passes through the psyche, it imprints an accent upon it: a power shaped by the being’s dominant trait. These are the ‘Dominant Traits’—gifts that reflect the dominant personality trait of the Elan wielder.”

  “Interesting,” Kael murmured.

  He turned another page.

  “Among the Fragmented, the more dominant and distinctive the personality trait, the more the power burns. Among the Unyielding, balance tempers strength. The Dominant Trait manifests in a smoother, less raw, more subtle form, without any true counterpart.”

  Kael sighed.

  “‘The power burns,’ huh? I guess that cuts both ways… but the game must be worth the candle.”

  He continued reading.

  “Dominant Traits have a particular designation. They are almost always named after a first name or a surname. The origin of these names is unknown.”

  He frowned, dubious, then turned another page.

  “Dominant Traits grant the Elan wielder a passive ability. Whether Unyielding or Fragmented, this power remains uncontrollable.”

  Kael lifted his eyes to the ceiling and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “That’s… inconvenient.”

  He closed the codex, set it down on the table beside him, and refocused on his meal.

  A few minutes later, a small group coming from the girls’ dormitory entered the bearers’ hall.

  Kael didn’t really pay attention. He was still absorbed in what he had just read in the codex, chewing over every word.

  But the group grew. Boys joined the girls, and the crowd began to drift toward his table.

  At its head: Althéa.

  She walked straight ahead, her expression distant, as if she didn’t even register the comments flying around her.

  “This new haircut suits you very well, Princess.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “I might get the same one!”

  “It’s fashionable at the palace, right?”

  Kael looked up, watching Althéa approach. He couldn’t help but think:

  …It’s true, that haircut really does suit her.

  Without warning, she stopped in front of his table… and sat down. Without asking.

  Her expression had turned icy again.

  “I see you’ve learned how to eat properly,” she said.

  Kael, without lifting his eyes from his plate, replied in a sarcastic tone:

  “I’ve been dining with the aristocracy lately. In the end, maybe they do have a thing or two to teach me.”

  Althéa sketched a smile. Slight. Too slight.

  But Kael noticed it immediately… and she masked it at once, slipping back into her cold fa?ade.

  He raised an eyebrow, mocking:

  “I’ve always wondered who was behind these little gatherings in the bearers’ hall. I have my answer now.”

  Althéa shot back instantly, her tone still cold but edged with discreet sarcasm:

  “I’m surprised you don’t have one of your own. Among pigs… or other animals who don’t know how to eat properly.”

  The girls gathered around Althéa began whispering, without even trying to hide their comments.

  “That’s the one the princess spent a week with?”

  “But… isn’t he the one who hit Damian?”

  “Yes! It’s him—the Ombrevu!”

  “He’s kind of cute, actually…”

  Althéa stiffened at that last remark.

  Her gaze slid slowly toward the student who had spoken: an entirely ordinary young girl.

  Her eyes turned dark. Icy.

  The girl went pale and retreated without another word.

  Kael, for his part, kept eating without saying anything.

  But he could feel Althéa staring at him. She seemed tense—barely so, almost imperceptible to most people. But not to him.

  By now, he knew her well enough to recognize that particular tension.

  Then, calmly, with a slightly coaxing tone, he said:

  “Excuse me, ladies, but the princess and I need to discuss certain… let’s say, sensitive matters. Concerning our little mishap during the survival course.”

  He punctuated the sentence with his most charming smile.

  Several girls blushed.

  The boys, on the other hand, growled.

  But reluctantly, the small crowd eventually dispersed.

  Althéa let out a sigh.

  “Finally alone,” she said.

  But she still seemed a little on edge.

  Kael, who had resumed eating, glanced at her briefly.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, simply.

  “Nothing,” she replied coldly.

  Kael raised an eyebrow, then went on in an ironic tone:

  “Yeah, sure. I can feel your leg bouncing nonstop under the table, and I can see perfectly well how you’re looking at me. Like you’re about to skin me alive.”

  Althéa frowned slightly.

  “Did you really have to sit here? In full view of everyone?”

  Kael blinked, a little perplexed.

  “Uh… in the bearers’ hall?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well… yeah. I kind of have to if I want to eat.”

  Under the table, Althéa’s leg kept bouncing. Even faster than before.

  She didn’t take her eyes off Kael. Still that harsh, hostile look—but different… almost personal.

  Kael lifted his gaze to her, then added sarcastically:

  “And by the way… ‘in full view of everyone’? You meant ‘everyone,’ right? Not ‘all of them.’”

  Althéa shot back instantly, without batting an eye:

  “I know exactly what I said.”

  A servant arrived at that moment and set a tray down in front of her.

  “For you, Princess.”

  She didn’t thank him. She hadn’t looked away from Kael for a single second.

  Kael, for his part, was having trouble focusing on his meal. He went through the motions of eating, but his attention was elsewhere.

  Althéa spoke again, still in a cold tone:

  “What are you reading?”

  She gestured toward the codex with her chin.

  Kael turned his head toward the book.

  “Oh, this? I found it in my room this morning. I’d never really taken the time to see what was in my library.”

  He tapped the cover lightly, then added with a sincere smile:

  “I learned what a Dominant Trait is.”

  A real smile, hanging on his lips, as if he were genuinely pleased with his discovery.

  Althéa watched him.

  That smile… a little stupid, maybe—the kind that comes from understanding something simple—too simple for her—but on him, it seemed important.

  A faint discomfort rose in her chest.

  Without realizing it, she relaxed. Her tone softened slightly, less sharp, a little prouder:

  “I could have told you what it was, if you’d asked.”

  Kael shrugged, the smile still there.

  “How was I supposed to ask? I didn’t even know Dominant Traits existed.”

  Althéa realized how condescending her tone had been the very moment he spoke.

  She shot him another glare.

  Under the table, her leg bounced harder.

  Kael frowned. He didn’t understand. She was acting strangely.

  “Althéa, what’s going on with you?” he asked seriously.

  He thought he saw her jaw tighten slightly.

  She replied, cold, faintly irritated:

  “Nothing. It’s just that I walk in here… and I see you sitting there, right in the middle of everyone, with all those girls looking at you like you’re some kind of valuable object. And it annoys me.”

  Kael slowly set his cutlery down. Bewildered.

  “But… why does that even matter?”

  Althéa’s leg thumped beneath the table like a metronome gone out of sync.

  Kael went on, more gently:

  “And honestly, I don’t think they were looking at me like that. It looked like they were just curious. A little surprised. That’s all.”

  “But of course,” she replied in an icy tone.

  “They weren’t eyeing you at all. Not a single inappropriate look, no. I must be hallucinating, obviously.”

  She was clearly struggling to keep her anger in check.

  Kael still didn’t understand.

  “But why does it annoy you this much? A few girls looking? What does that change for you?”

  He shook his head, sighed, then said:

  “Althéa, calm down, please.”

  She snapped back instantly, sharp:

  “Oh, of course! I’m the one who needs to calm down, when you’ve been doing everything you can to get on my nerves since earlier!”

  Her leg was pounding furiously beneath the table.

  Then Kael reacted. Abruptly.

  He slipped his hand under the table, grabbed her leg, and pinned it firmly to the floor.

  The contact was sharp. Firm. The moment suspended.

  “Althéa, fuck… what’s your problem?!”

  Althéa froze completely.

  Her eyes, wide open, stared at Kael without blinking.

  She said nothing.

  And above all, she didn’t pull her leg away.

  Kael, his hand still pressed firmly against her, let out a sigh, looking genuinely at a loss.

  “I just came down to eat, because I was hungry!”

  He stared at her with a mix of incomprehension and frustration.

  “And you storm in, look at me like you’re about to kill me, and accuse me of things that make no sense!”

  Still nothing. Not a word from Althéa. Not a movement. Just her wide eyes, locked onto his.

  He lowered his voice slightly, trying to understand, softer now:

  “Please, Althéa… if it’s something important, something you want to tell me in private, then say it. And we’ll go somewhere else.”

  He leaned slightly over the table, closing the distance between them. His eyes searched hers for an answer.

  “Now… tell me what’s going on.”

  Only then did Kael remove his hand from her leg. As if that simple gesture reopened the flow of Althéa’s thoughts.

  She could still feel the warmth imprinted on her skin.

  A tiny shiver ran up her thigh.

  She didn’t understand what was happening—and that only made her angrier.

  Her voice rose. Cold. Cutting.

  “Who authorized you to remove your hand?”

  Kael blinked, completely lost.

  “Huh?”

  “B-but…?” Kael added, utterly confused.

  He didn’t understand anything anymore.

  He stood there for a few seconds, frozen, then sighed.

  He got up slowly, picked up his book from the table, and walked away, head lowered, as if he hadn’t slept all night.

  Althéa, caught off guard, stood up as well and hurried after him.

  “Where do you think you’re going like that?” she asked coldly.

  Kael lifted his eyes to her. He looked drained.

  “Althéa… please. Stop torturing me. I’m begging you.”

  His voice was low. Sincere. Tired.

  “I just want to go get some air.”

  He stepped around her, without any roughness, and left.

  Althéa remained there, frozen, her gaze following Kael as he exited the hall.

  But… what’s happening to me? she thought.

  I’ve been angry at him since this morning. I don’t even know why.

  It drives me insane to see him smile. To see other girls looking at him.

  She clenched her fists.

  I need to go see Velara. I need answers.

  Without waiting, she headed off in the same direction as him.