As I exited the office, the heavy silence of the corridor was replaced by an atmosphere thick with silent judgment. The news that Director Sylvia Sterling had summoned me privately had spread through the Academy like a slow poison.
Margery was the first to approach. Her violet eyes were clouded with worry bordering on panic; she grabbed my shoulders, inspecting me as if expecting burns or some ninth-circle curse.
"What did she say to you, Cassian?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "She's not going to take revenge for Julius… right?"
A few meters away, Sera Sterling watched me with corrosive doubt. As a member of the family, she knew her grandmother never wasted words on someone without value. Her crimson eyes shimmered with a question she didn't dare voice: what had the most powerful woman in the Empire seen in her friend—the one who always seemed absurdly ordinary?
But the one who caught my attention the most… was Elena.
She stood leaning against a marble column, arms crossed, her expression trying to remain professional—but her eyes searched for me with desperate urgency. She was waiting. Waiting for a signal, a word, something that would tell her what to do now that her life's purpose—her revenge—had been fulfilled.
"Relax," I said, gently removing Margery's hands and giving them all a look that revealed nothing. "She just wanted to know how I got so lucky in the arena. Seems the Director enjoys miracle stories."
I walked past them with an indifference that only deepened their confusion.
…
Classes were canceled that day and didn't resume for a week. During that time, aside from spending it with Adela and Margery, I did nothing of note.
The capital remained submerged in mourning—but for me, it was the silence I needed.
"Master, don't you intend to speak with Elena or Princess Elara?" Adela asked as she poured me a glass of wine, her gaze scrutinizing my lack of urgency.
I looked at her as if the thought had never even crossed my mind.
"Should I? They're both terrified—they won't seek me out first. Nor do I have any interest in developing my relationship with them, especially that princess."
"I don't understand why you helped them that day," Adela insisted, placing the bottle down with a firm touch. "Even if no problems arose from it, I don't feel they've done anything to deserve your grace."
"I suppose I'm too soft, Adela," I replied with a languid smile. "And cleaning up a couple of misfortunes in this world didn't seem so bad at the time."
Adela sighed, clearly unconvinced by my "kindness," and checked a small notebook.
"Cassane Windsteel, Lisbeth Vitalis, and Valeria Astaford have been trying to speak with you all week. Will you continue avoiding them as well?"
Being the center of attention of the Academy's three "Queens" was nothing but a headache.
I didn't answer directly. Instead, I stood and looked toward the city skyline, where the commercial district was beginning to glow with golden lights.
"Tomorrow we'll visit Elizabeth, Adela. It's been a long time since I last checked on the state of things at the Nexus Trading House."
…
By the time we crossed the threshold of the Nexus Trading House, the clatter of carriages and the chime of coins created a background melody few in the Empire could ignore.
At the center of that storm of transactions stood her—Elizabeth, the widowed marchioness of the decaying Vane house.
Many in the capital remembered her as the woman who, after her husband's death, inherited a ruined estate and debts that would have crushed anyone.
What the world ignored was that, in her darkest moment, I had extended my hand. With a few "strategic" pieces of advice and an investment that appeared in no official ledger, we transformed her withered name into the foundation of Nexus.
Today, Elizabeth was not just an influential widow—she was the woman who had achieved the impossible: surpassing the legendary Valois family in liquidity and assets.
"Master," Elizabeth greeted, bowing her head with elegant poise. She ignored the merchants waiting for an audience and led us to her private office. "You've taken your time. The report on cross-border route revenue is ready, but I assume you didn't come for numbers."
She poured herself some tea, her precise movements revealing that, while the world saw her as a bold businesswoman, she knew perfectly well who truly owned her empire.
"The city is a mess, Cassian," she continued, lowering her voice. "The Valois are trying to sabotage our northern routes because they can't understand how a 'simple widow' is stripping them of their monopoly."
I sat across from her, observing the world map on her wall, dotted with small golden marks representing our hidden branches.
"I'm glad to see the investment has paid off, Elizabeth," I replied calmly.
Elizabeth suddenly stood, moving with feline grace until she was mere inches from me.
"The numbers and routes can wait, Cassian," she whispered, her voice dropping into something velvety and intimate. "You've spent too long locked away in that Academy, surrounded by girls who know nothing."
Her fingers traced the edge of my jaw with delicate yet possessive pressure.
"You made me the richest woman on this continent… gave me the tools to trample those who humiliated me… but what I desire most cannot be bought with gold."
With a fluid motion, she sat on my lap, trapping me between her silk-clad thighs. Her arms wrapped around my neck, forcing me to meet her gaze.