Kiara stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, precise murmur, wrapping around Olivia like silk that could choke.
"You know the Guiding Light helps you, Olivia. It gives you clarity. Lets you see spells, math, numbers in ways you never could. But it doesn't make Lor smarter. It doesn't give him anything."
Olivia's brows drew together, her lips parting as memory surfaced—Lor's words sometime at the start of their first ritual.
The Light is genius. I'm just the vessel.
Her chest squeezed, her throat tightening. She nodded faintly, her voice soft.
"…Yes. He told me."
Kiara tilted her head, her smile sharpening, predatory. "Then you see it, don't you? You're climbing higher. You'll score better. You'll make your noble house proud and achieve your dreams and whatever. But what about him?"
Her gaze cut to Lor, her voice soft but piercing. "He'll stay at the bottom. Forever. Carrying everyone else's weight."
