Accidental situations can sometimes weigh heavier than any awkward silence. Perhaps the current predicament fit that description perfectly.
Anaïs held my bandaged hand... and by the time she realized it, it was too late. Snatching her fingers away from my wraps did little good, as a freezing chill had already invaded every corner of the dining hall.
Lianza stood there in the doorway. Her garnet Empero dyed the floor tiles with a thick, heavy aura. Bypassing me completely, her stare drilled into the exchange student, clearly calculating exactly how many pieces to slice her into if she dared to utter a single word.
I stood up, the chair screeching against the floor.
"My lady," I said.
Lianza raised a hand. Blinking once, she lifted her chin. Then, for the first time since the Welcome Ball, her eyes met mine.
"Elcronne. Is this where you waste your time instead of escorting me?"
"I..."
"Keep your pathetic excuses to yourself. Come."
She spun on her heels. Her skirt traced a sharp arc, and the scent of her perfume mingled perfectly with the freezing air. Both emanated entirely from her.
Striding down the hall, she possessed absolute certainty that her Heel Dog would follow without needing to look back.
Caspian chuckled under his breath, exchanging a knowing look with Alexia. Meanwhile, Anaïs shook like a leaf.
"Go," Caspian muttered. "The dog has been called by his master."
Alexia punched him in the shoulder upon hearing my nickname, leaving the guy rubbing the sore spot.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
We reached the west wing. Bypassing her own chambers, she took a sharp turn toward the library and stepped inside. The librarian glanced up, scowling at the sudden icy draft, only to gulp down her complaints the moment she spotted the D'Tariel crest. Lianza marched straight for the history section.
It was our table.
Stopping in her tracks, she ran a gloved hand along the back of the wooden chair.
"Leave," she ordered, keeping her back to me.
"I refuse."
Lianza whirled to face my direction.
"Dariel Elcronne, if you fail to exit this library in the next three seconds, I will freeze your tongue straight down your throa—"
I pressed a single finger against the center of her lips.
"Do it. Even if you freeze my entire throat, blind me, and pierce my ears with ice shards, my loyalty remains with you, Lianza D'Tariel."
Lianza furrowed her brow and raised a hand. A fraction of a second of hesitation flashed across her eyes.
Then came the slap, forcing me back a couple of steps as it echoed throughout the entire library.
Her hand trembled in the air after striking me.
"Shh!" the librarian warned from a distance.
"I am engaged," she hissed, dropping her voice to a harsh whisper. "You will approach me exclusively on my orders or to protect my life in mortal danger; outside of those bounds, refrain from ever repeating such a stunt."
Stepping forward, I ignored the stinging palm print definitely burning into my cheek. It had to be bright red... almost as crimson as the heavy blush currently dusting Lianza's own cheeks.
Outwardly she projected sheer annoyance, yet deep down, I knew the real Lianza relished my devotion.
"Understood perfectly," I simply replied.
Reaching out, my fingers gently brushed the frame of her glasses. Her signature gesture. Our secret language.
Lianza raised her hand a second time, only for hesitation to freeze her in place. Approaching her with nothing but affection, I had merely adjusted her slightly crooked frames to remind her of my fluency in our silent tongue.
"Elcronne..." she whispered, her voice already betraying a soft, breathless hitch.
"I am yours alone, Seraph."
Closing her eyes, she held her breath. One second... Two... Then she pushed my hand away from her face.
Turning her back, she sat down in the chair and flipped open a random book, masking the entire exchange behind a facade of sheer indifference.
"Go treat your wound, idiot. It's bleeding."
Glancing down at my hand confirmed her words. For some reason, Lianza's freezing aura had loosened my bandages... or perhaps the slap was the real culprit?
I stepped out of the library. Despite running on virtually zero sleep, sporting a bleeding hand wrapped in loose bandages, and suffering public humiliation courtesy of Professor Wilda (even if Lianza had intervened), a profound sense of renewal washed over me.
She had finally looked me in the eyes again.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Maximizing my time became my top priority. The Harem System seemed to have granted me a momentary truce, a bizarre rarity considering its relentless drive to shove me into endless predicaments throughout these recent classes and celebrations. Without a doubt, the wretched thing was currently plotting my next grand humiliation.
Seeking out Professor Vauxol seemed like the most logical next step. Mastering my Writer's Empero demanded a solid grasp of the underlying theory.
Professor Vauxol's study overflowed with towering stacks of books, exactly as one would expect. Suspended from the ceiling above like an ornate chandelier, a massive spherical globe displayed all of Earolden alongside the other continents.
The professor lounged in his chair behind a heavy desk. Directly behind him, a massive chalkboard spanned the entire wall, completely covered in historical facts regarding the nobility and complex theories detailing the various creatures inhabiting this world.
"What can I do for you, young Elcronne?"
"I came for..."
Pausing, second thoughts flooded my mind.
What would be my excuse? Confessing my desire to master an incredibly rare Conceptual Empero would essentially out me to a man highly likely allied with Ardwyn V of Jahke, someone perfectly willing to report my every secret directly to the crown?
"Exactly how much do you know about Empero theory, Professor Vauxol?"
Lifting his gaze, the older man met my eyes.
"Sufficient enough to teach at the most prestigious academy in the entire world, an institution founded exclusively on forging the most capable Knights and Ladies of Empero in history."
Vauxol casually flipped a page in his book.
"So tell me, young Elcronne. How much do you believe I know?"
The Professor Vauxol written in The Throne of Ashes and Thorns always maintained absolute discretion regarding his power. My sole piece of knowledge suggested his Empero possessed a... peculiar nature. Hailing from the Aliandys family, a loyal vassal to the legendary Garialys house of painters, his magical abilities definitely tied into some form of art.
"My request simply involves seeking your instruction regarding the various existing types of Empero, Professor Vauxol Aliandys."
"Certainly, we shall cover that exact information in a few future lessons. However, we will restrict our focus entirely to a superficial level, as my designated responsibilities encompass the history of Earolden's noble houses rather than practical Empero instruction."
Snapping his book shut, he offered a thin smile.
"However, given your intense curiosity and my current state of profound boredom, young Elcronne, how about we play a little game? The victor earns the right to ask the loser a single question. Absolutely anything."
Wait a minute. What specific information could Professor Vauxol possibly desire from me?
Swallowing hard, the terrifying realization finally clicked.
Should his target involve my transmigration, my Empero, or Lianza, securing absolute victory remained my sole option.