The symbol of the Academy glared out at me from the corner of a dispatch that a footman the color of an overripe prune had just delivered.
For the second time, I read it in Thornwood’s study, my fingernails drumming a staccato rhythm against Lucien’s impossibly neat desk.
“To Lady Elena Vance, We cordially acknowledge the…
unique…
place you hold in the Royal Magic Academy and would like to invite a team from your household to compete in the biannual Academy Duel Exhibition.
Your team will consist of three participants.
Each match will be a combination of melee combat and spellcasting.
The event will take place in the Grand Arena in fourteen days’ time.
Attendance is mandatory.
Failing to send a team will result in an immediate review of your fitness to study at the academy.” This wasn’t an invitation.
It was a trap carefully laid to pull me back into the arena where Kael had proven himself.
I could already discern the Academy professors’ intentions as I analyzed this message.
They wanted to pick apart my holdings, deem them worthless, and use my enrollment of Kael as the perfect pretext to tear away my shield of Academy protection from the Duke.
“Lucien,” I sighed, dropping the message to the side.
“Analysis.” Lucien held the note up to the light to peer through it, then sniffed at it dismissively.
“Ordinary paper.
Off-the-rack ink.
However…” He ran a fingernail across the seal.
“Not the Headmaster’s mark.
It’s the Governors’ crest.
This means it originated not with Headmaster Locke, but with his underlings.
The Governors, being accountable to the Imperial Council and dependent on their approval to confirm such appointments, have officially sanctioned this missive.” “And my father has control over them,” I answered numbly.
“And Crown Prince Aldric exerts a strong influence as well,” Lucien confirmed.
“Our future emperor was rather vocal about his interest in seeing you back amongst us now that your engagement has been rescinded…
and specifically in retrieving one of the Empire’s more substantial assets after its improper acquisition.” I snorted derisively, the sound so flat I almost believed I’d made it up.
“The stock he himself had the nerve to sell cheaply, only for it to increase in value tenfold just three days later, suddenly feels more appealing?” “The letter itself isn’t what piqued my surprise, however,” Lucien added, pulling a second note from his coat pocket.
“This one was delivered earlier this morning by one of my contacts.” He slid the document to me.
From Celestine Luminere, of course.
Her team would have completed its registration earlier today, and she had surely put forward a royal and two S-ranked individuals: Crown Prince Aldric, Ignis the S-ranked fire mage, and a paladin named Seraphina.
Two S-ranks and a royal…
she wanted to bury me.
“She is stacking the odds terribly against us,” I informed him.
“No,” Lucien grinned, a predator’s light in his eyes.
“She doesn’t want to ‘stack’ the odds; she wants to publicly decimate you.
If you fail, you prove a desperate, useless fool; if you win, you become a threat too dangerous to keep anywhere near their ranks; refusal is an indication of cowardice under pressure—all the perfect reasons to ensure your removal.
Quite clever, wouldn’t you agree?” I stepped away from the desk toward the window, looking out over the courtyard below to see Kael sparring with Sylas.
The ex-knight executed the blows with flawless grace, and Lyra sat by the wall, weaving a tiny ice pattern with her fingertips onto the cool stone.
“Kael!” I called out.
He looked up, his golden eyes meeting mine directly.
“How fast can you get him to A-rank?” I asked.
“Development with full cooperation will take around fourteen days, maybe less.
B-Rank is too unstable to take much pressure without breaking—” “I know,” I interjected, “but if we push for full A-Rank, it’ll surely snap.
Unless we don’t have to push him all the way; unless his B-Rank combat is strong and efficient enough to keep up, unlike an overgeared, imbalanced S-Rank brute.” “I can keep up the pace,” Kael argued, his voice low, “however, I can’t outclass two S-Ranks and a Royal Prince working in full cooperation.” I turned back to Kael with a sigh.
“Can your right arm take a real, full-force blade strike in two weeks’ time?” The swordsman stared down at his hand, flexing his fingers, then tightening them into a fist.
“Give me a blade to wield, and I’ll be your weapon.” “Lyra?” I asked, hesitating, almost afraid to call upon the girl at all.
The brunette stood and came to my side, her arms outstretched.
A fine layer of frost bloomed from beneath her feet across the stone in a perfect circle, from which a single rose of ice formed, only to shatter into crystalline dust in the middle of the courtyard.
I grinned, the familiar thrill of battle rising in my veins, replacing the worry and dread.
“Four potent advantages against the masses.
One unit to rally.
One court to reclaim.” Lucien cleared his throat.
“Only three are able to fight,” he reminded me, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You’ll be our alternate fighter,” I replied, a heat rising in my chest, “and our intel officer.
I need you to compile everything on their weaknesses before we set foot in that arena.” “It will be so,” Lucien said with a bow, one finger idly dragging across his lower lip in thought.
“Just one note, Elena.
Should we attempt this and miraculously succeed…
This charade of ours will end.
The Empire will finally know of our presence.
The Duke will finally know what we are.
And ultimately…
so will the gods.” “Excellent,” I said, already walking toward the door, the hem of my robes swishing with each step.
“Because I’m getting sick and tired of being unknown.
‘Trash villainess.’ That’s what they call me, after all.
If they want a show, let’s give them an entertaining financial collapse.” I turned back to my team: Kael, the King of Demons; Sylas, the blossoming Sword Saint; Lyra, the power-dripping Dragon Mage; and lastly, the Shadow Emperor, Lucien, who would no doubt create a tax law to ruin every single asset on their books of agents and contractors.
“Fourteen days,” I said, my voice strong like tempered steel.
“Compound interest, gentlemen.
And one lady.” Four pairs of eyes—gold, sapphire, silver, and violet—all burned with the same fiery determination.
“Compound interest,” the four of them echoed.
[TICK: Invitation received from the Academy.
Team assembled.
True strength of our assets will be tested.
Midpoint of Arc 2: Final combat on the precipice.]