Dinner unfolded in courses Elian only partially registered. Because he was too aware of his own posture, too aware of the crescent pin in his hair and the eyes that kept drifting toward him and away again throughout the meal, though never unkindly.
Cassian Selenoire kept up a steady stream of questions from across the table—about the Everbloom leaning against his, about his escapades at Lucenhall, about whether the rumors of him freezing an entire classroom were true—until Oizys finally silenced him with a single flat look that promised dire consequences later.
He wasn’t exactly sure why such a young person was allowed to be here at a dinner that was definitely going to go into classified territory, but he didn’t have the bravery in him to risk the question.
So instead, he just focused on looking normal while eating.
It was somewhere between the second and third course that Duke Ashworth, further down the table, asked after Magister Vale, and the tone shifted, subtly, into something more current.
"She declined the invitation," Queen Isolde said, before anyone else could answer. A faint, knowing smile at the corner of her mouth.
She waited for the unrest to settle before she explained.
"Let it be known that she did it politely. Extremely politely, considering her status. I believe her exact letter said something to the effect of ’court dinners and I have an old, mutual understanding to avoid one another’ and I agree with her choice. After all, it is quite common knowledge among the political circle that the Grand Magus is not a fan of gatherings like this."
"Makes perfect sense," Oizys said, and Elian caught himself nodding in agreement before he’d fully thought about it.
"She’s not wrong to keep her distance," Aurelian said, more measured. "Vale’s never had much patience for ceremony even when we served together. It’s part of why she was effective, back then. I could never hold it against her."
He set his glass down, and something in the room’s rhythm shifted with the gesture—small, deliberate, the kind of thing that told everyone present a different conversation was about to begin.
"Which brings us, I think, to the matter actually worth discussing tonight."
The lighter chatter faded out on its own, the guests further down the table quietly falling into listening silence, clearly accustomed to reading exactly this cue.
"The courier boy found dead near outside the capital," King Aurelian said, voice lower now, careful. "You’ve all heard the details, I expect."
"Ma— ...Rowan Vale told us," Elian said when looked at. "About the sigil left at the scene."
"The symbol of the fallen angel." Queen Isolde’s mouth pressed into something tight, brief. "A message, and not a subtle one at all. It’s obvious to tell that they want it known they’re no longer hiding."
"We’ve increased patrols along the eastern roads," one of the uniformed officials put in—a woman with close-cropped grey hair and a voice that suggested she rarely spoke without purpose. "Quietly, for now, as your majesty suggested. We wouldn’t want to give the Davidians confirmation that the message landed the way they intended."
"And Lucenhall?" Rudra asked, expression somehow perfectly level even when the attention of the entire room settled onto him.
"Better protected than most places in this kingdom, cult activity considered," It was the King that answered. "Vale’s presence alone accounts for a great deal of that, just her title as Grand Magus is enough to deter most threats, not to mention the other powerhouses that stay in Lucenhall for teaching."
"Namely Saint Petra Sorne, Beast tamer Talia Fenn and Grandmaster Aldric Renaux." One of the uniformed official, a lady with greying hair, listed once the king went quite.
"Don’t forget good ol’ Marren." Another uniformed official that Elian didn’t know the name of added.
"And good Old Marren." Marrow agreed with a knowing smile.
Silence settled into the hall once more, everyone waiting for the king to continue speaking again.
"Good to hear that Marren is still working at Lucenhall." He said with a knowing smile.
"That said, protection isn’t the same as safety, and I won’t pretend otherwise to any of you." His gaze moved deliberately around the table—Rudra, then Oizys, then, finally, settling on Elian and staying there. "Which is, plainly, why I’ve summoned you here tonight."
Elian felt his stomach tighten when he realised he was being directly addressed to.
"Your highness?"
"You’re the newest variable in all of this," King Aurelian said, not unkindly, but simply direct in a way that felt almost, almost like relief after weeks of careful phrasing from everyone else. "A fresh Resonance bond with an unclassified elemental range, tied to an artifact no one currently understands the full nature of. You didn’t choose any of that, I know that, but it makes you a priority, whether you’re comfortable with the word or not."
"I understand that. Vale’s told me as much."
The king simply just smiled, it was the queen that continued for him instead.
"I don’t think you understand it the way we mean it."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice gentler than her husband’s but no less serious.
"It isn’t only about protecting you, Elian Valcourt. Rudra Suryavanshi and my daughter carry political weight that makes them targets too, more valuable than you in some cases."A deliberate pause. "What’s different is that you carry something the Davidians can’t yet measure, which makes you both a target and, potentially, an asset none of us fully understand the shape of."
Another pause.
"We aren’t asking you to be a weapon, I want to be very clear about that. Our predecessors have tried and failed at that already... but I’d be lying if I said the thought of preparing you for the front lines hadn’t crossed every mind at this table tonight."
The room went completely still once she finished—not tense, exactly, but weighted, everyone present clearly aware of how much rode on how Elian responded to that.
He looked down at his own hands for a second, then back up, steadier than he felt.
He took a deep breath, then released it.
"I don’t know what I am yet, not really. I’m still barely past my first real spell, and my staff has been dormant ever since an incident a month ago." A breath. "But I’m not going to pretend I don’t want to be useful, either. If that’s what this is leading toward."
Something shifted in queen and king’s expression—not quite a relief, but close enough that it looked like their burden had lessened a little.
"That’s an honest answer." The king said, taking his time with the words, "But I will take that over false confidence any day."
"For now," Isolde continued for him, gentler again, "your days are going to be same as everyone else’s. You will train, grow into whatever you’re becoming on your own terms, with people around you who care what happens to you—which, from what I’ve seen tonight, you already have in no small supply."
Her gaze flicked, briefly, warmly, toward Oizys and Rudra both.
"For the rest, we’ll face as it comes. Not alone, and not unprepared at all. That much I can promise you. The kingdom of Selenoire has been quite busy as well, to face the cult once they play their first card."
Elian let out a slow breath, some of the tightness in his chest easing, if not fully gone.
Beside him, under the table, he felt Oizys’s hand find his for exactly one brief, steadying second before pulling away again—no comment, no acknowledgment, just there, and then not.
He thought, for the first time since the letter had arrived, that he might actually survive the rest of this evening.
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