"Why were you following me on the day of our first class?"
Vencian stopped moving. His hand, halfway to the table, stayed there. The room stayed the same, yet he felt everything pause around him.
She had noticed him back then. Despite every effort, she had seen.
The weight of her stare told him this wasn't a guess. She was certain.
He chose to lie, one that wouldn't collapse on the second try. "Just chance. You're reading too much into it.," he said, keeping his voice level.
Her lips curved in a faint, knowing smile that didn't soften her eyes. "Too bad. I don't believe in coincidences."
The silence pressed on him until he gave in. "Fine. Coincidence, yes, but also curiosity. That's all."
Roselys tilted her head. "And how much did you hear?"
He hated how she asked as though she already knew the answer.
Vencian met her eyes. "Nothing. Not a word."
That part was true. He hadn't heard the conversation himself. Quenya had, and later shared every piece with him.
Roselys looked at him eye to eye without blinking. She didn't believe him, he realized.
Her posture didn't ease. She sat with her chin propped against one hand, gaze steady, the kind of silence that made his words sound thinner the longer it lasted. Every detail of her expression told him his lie hadn't landed.
He leaned back in his chair. He had picked this place for its balance: public enough to look ordinary, distant enough that no one would overhear. Her direct tone had caught him off guard, but he reminded himself he hadn't done anything worth guilt.
A little following, yes. Some invasion of privacy, yes. But nothing criminal. She might be the daughter of the High Preceptor, but he was a high noble in his own right.
Seizing his thoughts he decided to be open about it.
"You sound awfully sure. What made you so certain it was me?" he asked.
She rested her chin against her hand. "Instincts. And besides—your appearance stands out too much. You don't exactly blend into a crowd."
Vencian gave a faint, tight smile. "Hardly my fault for being recognizable."
"And to be sure, I waited that day. Hid myself and watched. You came out after."
Vencian sighed as if cursing his own stupidity. He could have easily escaped if he had simply used his powers to assume a different face.
"That's on me. I should have been more careful."
Her tone cut sharper now. "Why haven't you told anyone?"
"Because I couldn't care less. The same goes for you though," he shot back. "If you thought I was eavesdropping, why bring it up now? Did you trust me not to tell your father?"
"I don't trust you," Roselys tilted her head, unimpressed. "If you really didn't care, you wouldn't have followed me. Or tried to listen."
He held her stare. "I just wanted to talk to you. About your thesis, like now."
Her eyes narrowed, testing him. "Are you really that interested in it?"
"Yeah," Vencian said. "Pretty much."
She leaned forward slightly. "Then if I share more about my thesis, would you do something for me in return?"
Vencian gave her a blank look as his mind buzzed with warning. Not a single cell in his body agreed that involving with this woman will be beneficial.
His answer came out faster than he expected, "No."
"Well, that was fast."
"I try to be indecisive," Vencian as he got up from his seat. "Thank you for your answers. And don't worry, I have no interest in rattling you out to your father. You can do whatever you want. Good luck."
Figuring nothing good will come out of continuing this conversation he decided to take his leave.
She had already laid a path. I'll figure something out later.
He gave her a short nod and began to rise, done with this exchange.
"Are you perhaps interested in short stories, Lord Vicorra?"
Her question made him pause. Against his own decision, he sat back down.
"Depends," he said. "What they teach you."
"Let me humor you then." Roselys's eyes fixed on him. "Three men lived in a manor. A scholar, a soldier, a lord. Each saw a shadow creep under the door. The scholar said it was only the wind. The soldier said it was nothing he couldn't handle. The lord thought the walls would hold. None opened the door. By morning, all three were dead. The fire had begun with that shadow."
Silence followed.
"They didn't die because of fire, Lord Vicorra," Roselys continued. "They died because they chose not to see what was already burning."
Her gaze stayed locked on him.
"So tell me—do you like living in ignorance?"
He gave a short answer.
"What's your point?"
"My point is simple," she said. "This academy isn't as safe as it pretends. There is an ancient ruin in the Tolstall forest, under the academy's own jurisdiction. The church and the High Preceptor hid it from sight, but they haven't hidden what still rests inside."
Her words pulled him into stillness. Ruin? Inside Tolstall? For a second, he had no idea what to make of it. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on novel_fіre.net
Roselys leaned back, only when his silence showed he was listening.
"My mentor died because she tried to uncover it. And I doubt she will be the last."
Vencian spoke at last.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I think we can help each other."
He almost laughed, but stopped. His thoughts moved instead. Help? Information about some ruin, even if real, wouldn't push him against the High Preceptor or the church. He lived by caution, not gambles.
"Help?" he repeated. "You think pieces of history are enough for me to trust you and oppose them? Don't be ridiculous."
"You think too small," Roselys said. "That's not all I can give."
"What else?"
"I have connections. Not simple ones. I can help you find the one who killed your father and brother."
Her word's caught Vencian off-guard. He didn't expected her to bring it up lest offer to help him with finding their killer.
The offer tempted him. Collaboration was dangerous, but so was his solitude. He had pulled too many strings alone, and the world was fraying in his grasp. The fading colors in his sight reminded him of the toll— a quiet warning that even balancing two lives is not so easy. Trusting her, even slightly, was not giving in but it can reduce a few burden.
He considered his options. He could walk away now, or follow the lead and see where it ended. She offered a possibility, but that wasn't the same as proof. Proof was what he needed.
"Anyone can say that. Bring proof that you can help, or it's just noise."
"Reasonable," Roselys said without pause. "I can provide it, but not here."
"And I'll need to know what you expect me to do. If it ever turns into something I refuse, I'll walk away. Full rights."
"Fine," she said. "I won't make you do what you don't want."
He leaned back, his thoughts pressing in while a decision slowly took shape. She was a risk, but risk only mattered when left unchecked.
"I'll hear you out when the time comes," he said. "Nothing more."