They left the hall while the Academy still slept.
The stone corridors were quiet at that hour, torches burning low, shadows long and unmoving. Coren walked between Atrius and Mira, boots soft against the floor, posture loose but ready. The weight of the coming meeting sat on his shoulders—not fear, not excitement, just inevitability.
Mira broke the silence first, because she always did.
"If this ends with you being dragged off to some Feldren compound to be 'educated,' I'm burning something down," she muttered.
Atrius didn't slow. "You'll do nothing of the sort."
"I said if."
Coren glanced at her. "It won't."
She shot him a look. "You're very confident for someone walking into a political meat grinder before sunrise."
Valenna's presence tightened slightly, pleased.
Confidence is correct. Hesitation would be fatal.
