Three weeks passed in a flash.
The whole stabilization process on the crown prince had been a success. That was the official narrative, the one Stella recorded in the weekly reports for the King's council. The "Subject" was no longer a liability. The "Heir" was no longer prone to chaotic magical discharge. The system was balanced.
Elias walked down the main corridor of the Academy's High Lecture Hall, his footsteps a quiet contrast to the rustle of Stella's silk robes. He was no longer in the back of the room with the common-born mages. He sat in the front row, in the space reserved for the Specialized Assets of the Crown— as they now called it.
He held his leather-bound notebook pressed against his chest. His posture was perfect—shoulders back, chin level, gaze fixed forward. He looked like a model student. In reality, he was a ghost haunting a living body.
