I didn’t say anything else after she told me it didn’t matter.
I could hear it in the way her voice tightened at the end of the sentence, see it in the way her hand clenched around the strap of her satchel. It mattered more than she would ever admit.
So I walked her to her next class.
She tried, once, to insist. “I can go by myself, Cale.”
I shook my head. “Not today.”
She frowned but didn’t argue. She was smart enough to know when I meant it.
The Academy was still buzzing from earlier. I felt it in the way eyes followed us through the plaza, in the whispers that chased at our heels. Word had spread about Halden forcing me to drop the glamour. Students stared openly now—some pretending subtlety, others not bothering at all.
None of it mattered.
What mattered was the bruise on my sister’s cheek that she thought she’d hidden under powder.
When we reached her lecture hall, she hesitated by the doorway, shifting her books from one arm to the other. “You’re going to be late, Cale. We can’t have that on your first day.”
I smiled, soft enough that only she saw it. “Don’t worry about me, little sister.”
Her shoulders sagged—relief disguised as irritation—and she slipped inside.
I leaned against the wall outside the classroom. The marble was cool beneath my shoulder, the runes carved into the arch above pulsing faintly. Nobles in embroidered uniforms passed by, smirking, some giving me sidelong looks. Scholarship kids hurried past with their heads down, trying not to be noticed.
The bell chimed.
Four minutes.
I exhaled slowly and let the casting aid at my wrist wake just enough to respond.
[Expression Active: Arcanum] [Branch: Illusia]
Light softened around me. Attention slid aside before it could settle. A student brushed my shoulder, blinked, and kept walking, already forgetting I’d been there.
I shifted the flow carefully.
[Warning: Dual-Branch Strain Detected]
Static kissed my skin as the charge settled into my legs, tightening along muscle and tendon. My balance sharpened. Every step felt lighter, quicker.
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The corridor blurred as I moved. My footfalls were fast and precise, though softened by the veil I carried. Banners of noble houses streaked past in smears of color. Voices echoed behind me, none of them realizing the boy they’d been whispering about was already gone.
Corners snapped into view and vanished. I kept my breathing even as the two currents pressed closer together.
[Stability: Degrading]
Enough time.
I eased the veil tighter, slipped through the final archway, and let the charge bleed off as I slowed. By the time anyone might have noticed something out of place, I was already at my door.
When the bell finished ringing, I stepped inside, straightened my uniform, and took my seat without a sound.
That became the rhythm of the day.
Class to class. Hall to hall.
Each time Ellara disappeared into a lecture room, I moved on, went where I needed to be, then circled back before she came out again. I slipped out of class more than once a little early.
No one seemed to notice.
At first, students snickered.
Then the snickers turned into mutters.
By the third time, no one laughed. They just watched.
By afternoon, everyone knew: the new transfer was shadowing a younger student from class to class like a bodyguard.
Did some of them know she was my sister? Probably.
I didn’t care.
When the last bell rang, the light had shifted toward late afternoon. Ellara usually had after-school activities, but not today—the schedule was on break. I was glad for it. I didn’t want her here alone.
We cut through one of the open courtyards between buildings. Students lounged on carved benches beneath rune-lit trees, nobles basking in attention, scholarship kids keeping to the edges. Small bursts of Aura flared here and there. Flickering illusions danced for laughs.
That was when I felt it.
Not the usual attention.
Something sharper.
Colder.
Across the square, a girl stepped away from a knot of laughing nobles. Dark hair coiled perfectly, uniform immaculate, every movement rehearsed. She smiled politely at those she passed, flirted just enough to be noticed.
The smile never reached her eyes.
I knew her type.
Before Ellara stiffened beside me, I already knew.
This was the one.
She was flanked by two shadows—one giggling at something she’d said, the other broad-shouldered and eager to shove anyone out of her way. They orbited her like lesser stars, bright enough to reflect her light, not enough to burn on their own.
She turned her head.
Her gaze landed on Ellara first, the same small, cruel smile curving her lips.
Then her eyes lifted.
And she saw me.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
I just looked at her.
My eyes narrowed slightly. For the briefest moment, I let go of the restraint I usually carried without thinking.
The air changed.
Nothing anyone could point to. There wasn’t a noticeable glyph flared or flame sparked. But a weight settled across the courtyard all the same, subtle and pervasive, like the pressure before a storm. Students glanced around uneasily. One rubbed at his arms. Another tugged at his collar. Laughter faltered without anyone knowing why.
The girl froze.
The color drained from her face. Her smile faltered, then collapsed entirely. She stopped mid-step, eyes locked on mine.
Her friends looked at her in confusion. “Leira? What is it?”
So that was her name.
She shook her head too quickly. “Nothing.”
Her voice cracked.
She turned away, muttering something about being late, and disappeared back into her group. They swallowed her up, but not before I saw the tremor in her hand as she smoothed her skirt.
I turned away.
The pressure lifted. The courtyard breathed again. Students blinked and shifted, laughter resuming as if waking from a half-forgotten dream.
Ellara walked stiffly at my side, staring straight ahead. I felt her glance up at me, searching my face.
Finally, she whispered, “What… what did you just do?”
“Nothing.”
It was the truth.
But the way Leira had gone pale told me enough.
I was going to have a conversation with that girl.
Soon.
