"Forgive him, Professor Stern," Elizabeth said immediately, stepping in as the atmosphere began to thicken.
Her voice was controlled. Formal. Precise.
She didn't look at Samael when she spoke.
"Even so… I would like you to reconsider."
Layla watched them in silence for a few seconds.
Now the analysis was open.
"My answer is the same," she said at last. "Aside from you being problematic… your Court has two members. No reputation. No achievements. No influence."
She crossed her arms.
"While I…"
Layla didn't finish the sentence.
She didn't need to.
Legacy Clan.Resources.Better invitations.
The contrast was too obvious to explain.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward.
It was evaluative.
Then Samael spoke.
"Professor… during the month we studied together, you didn't exactly demonstrate great social skills."
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a second.
This was not how negotiations were done.
Layla tilted her head slightly.
Samael continued, despite the strategic blunder.
"You don't have social issues. You don't make people uncomfortable the way Liz sometimes does…"
Elizabeth did not react outwardly.
Internally, she recorded the offense.
"…but I've also never seen you talk to someone because you wanted to. Only because you had to."
Silence returned.
Denser this time.
Layla didn't look offended.
She looked… intrigued.
Elizabeth decided to reinforce the argument.
"According to my research, you've declined invitations from several Courts since your Awakening."
She had studied.
Names.Proposals.Dates.
Layla let out a short breath.
"I haven't found a suitable Court yet."
Her expression hardened slightly.
"It's not enough that the clan elders keep pressuring me… now you as well."
There was irritation there.
But something deeper, too.
Fatigue.
Layla didn't engage in casual conversations because there was simply nothing to share.
She liked ancient history.Obscure records.Events nearly erased by time.
Subjects difficult to access.
Few people knew enough to hold a meaningful conversation with her.
The result?
Awkward silences.Gradual distance.Comfortable isolation.
"And we're the complicated ones…" Samael muttered.
Too low to be formal.
Too loud not to be heard.
Both women ignored him.
It was tacit consensus.
Still, Layla noticed something in that moment.
Samael only behaved like this around them.
At the store, when speaking to attendants, he barely lifted his head.Spoke softly.Almost a whisper.
If someone compared that timid version to the young man now speaking evenly inside a Legacy's house…
They would doubt it was the same person.
Layla slowly uncrossed her legs.
"You don't understand," she said, more serious now. "Joining a Court is a strategic decision. Not an emotional one."
She looked at Elizabeth.
"Resources. Synergy. Survival capacity. Growth projection."
Then she turned to Samael.
Her gaze wasn't hostile.
It was clinical.
"Instability is risk."
The word lingered in the air.
Instability.
Not an insult.
A diagnosis.
Layla exhaled quietly after saying it.
She studied the two young Awakened before her.
They weren't younger than her.They weren't imposing.They didn't radiate arrogance.
And most importantly…
They didn't seem to want to own her.
In recent months, every invitation she had received came wrapped in suffocating contracts or members insufferably proud of their lineage.
Legacy Courts where power meant rigid hierarchy.
Where joining was nearly synonymous with belonging.
She despised that feeling.
Perhaps…
Perhaps this was different.
"What are you in this so-called Court?" she asked lightly, with a trace of sarcasm. "Aside from two walking problems."
Elizabeth answered immediately.
"I'm an archer and a seer."
She gestured slightly toward Samael.
"He's a refiner and… a generalist."
Layla raised an eyebrow.
"A generalist?"
For the first time, Elizabeth hesitated.
"He uses a bow, spear, sword… and probably anything with an edge or a point. It's difficult to define his style."
That was true.
Samael had no fixed pattern.
He adapted.
Or survived.
Layla began idly twisting a strand of her hair around her finger—a habit that surfaced when she was thinking.
A seer.
A refiner.
Two of the rarest roles.
Most Courts didn't even possess one.
If they secured a healer…
That would leave only a buffer and a frontline fighter—the easiest roles to fill.
Structurally, the Court had potential.
Raw.
Unstable.
But promising.
Layla slowly released the strand of hair.
"I'll give you a chance."
The air seemed to grow heavier.
"While I teach you how to manipulate essence… I will evaluate your capabilities. And decide whether I fit into this Court."
It wasn't acceptance.
It was a trial.
"Thank you," they both said in perfect sync.
Layla almost smiled.
Almost.
"Don't get excited."
She rose from the sofa.
"I can still walk away."
Samael tilted his head slightly toward Elizabeth.
"So… with you, our Court has three members."
Layla shot him a dry look.
"Don't call me Professor Stern anymore. I'm not a professor. And you're not students."
A brief pause.
A subtle shift in axis.
"Right… Layla," Samael replied.
She observed him for a moment.
There was no formality there.
No reverence.
Just recognition.
Perhaps…
Perhaps this wasn't the most prudent decision.
But excessive prudence was another form of stagnation.
And Layla Stern hated standing still.