Evening fell like silk across the sky, and the Academy's grand courtyard shimmered with floating lanterns.
Evelyne was returning from the Headmistress's office when she saw him.
Zane Elcross, leaning against the old marble fountain where roses bloomed in defiance of the season.
She almost passed him without a word.
"Evelyne," he said, voice low but commanding.
She stopped. Slowly turned.
"I suppose this isn't a coincidence," she said.
Zane stepped forward. The golden crest of the imperial family gleamed on his chest, but the look in his eyes wasn't imperial—it was personal.
"I heard about the incident with the second-years," he said. "You humiliated three noble boys in front of the council."
"They tried to corner Elisse. I ended it."
"You used forbidden mana." His tone sharpened. "Not even I'm allowed to touch that."
Evelyne raised her chin. "Then report me."
He clenched his jaw. "That's not what this is."
"Then what is this, Zane?"
A beat of silence stretched between them. The wind stirred, lifting strands of Evelyne's hair.
Zane exhaled. "I came to warn you."
She narrowed her eyes. "About what?"
"There are nobles who want you gone," he said. "They think you're dangerous. Reckless. Manipulative."
"And you?"
He hesitated. "I think… you're not the girl I used to know."
Evelyne's voice dropped. "No. I'm not. That girl died. On the execution platform you never stood on."
The words hit like knives. Zane took a step back.
Evelyne turned to leave, but paused.
"Don't play protector now, Zane," she said, not looking back. "It's twenty deaths too late for that."
She vanished into the shadows.
Zane stood alone by the fountain, the scent of blooming roses lingering like guilt.
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