ShadowBound: The Need For Power

They reached her room without interruption.

Sheila unlocked the door and stepped inside first, holding it open for him. Liam entered after her, and the room closed around them with a warmth and stillness that felt immediately different from the hallway.

Her room reflected her in a way Liam remembered.

It was neat, elegant, and organized without being excessive. The bed was made with pale bedding, the folds clean and precise. A writing desk stood near the window, arranged with stacked books, sealed letters, ink, and a small crystal lamp that gave off gentle light. A few items hinted at Crescent royalty without turning the room into a shrine to her status: a silver-framed crest placed discreetly on a shelf, a folded white-and-blue shawl draped over the back of a chair, and a small polished case that looked more ceremonial than practical.

Sheila removed her coat and hung it properly near the door. "You can sit."

Liam placed his books and assignment materials on one side of a small table near the window, then took the chair across from her desk rather than the bed. Sheila seemed to expect that choice and sat opposite him, folding her hands loosely in her lap.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The quiet made the room feel smaller.

"It has been a while since we properly talked," Sheila said eventually.

Liam looked at her. "We talk."

"In groups," she said. "Or about class. That is different."

"Is it?"

Sheila gave him a patient look.

Liam leaned back slightly in the chair. "I suppose."

Sheila breathed out softly, and for a moment, some of the formality around her eased. "You really do not make casual conversation easy."

"I answered."

"That is not always the same thing."

"So I’ve been told."

The faint smile returned to her face. "By Dylan?"

"Mostly."

"That sounds about right."

The brief exchange loosened the awkwardness enough for Sheila to continue. She glanced toward the books Liam had set down. "Were you studying?"

"Partly. I was working on a report."

"For Tactical Espionage?"

"Yes."

Sheila’s mouth tightened slightly in sympathy. "Lady Seraphina’s class, huh?"

"And Kaine."

"Then I will not ask if it is pleasant."

"It isn’t."

Sheila gave a small, knowing nod. "Theory exams are in a week. Practical exams the week after that. Everyone seems more tense already."

"They are."

"Are you worried?"

"No."

She gave him a look that said she should have expected that answer. "Not even about Core Myst?"

"I got help with the part that was unclear."

"Ariana?"

Liam glanced at her. "Yes."

Sheila’s expression softened with recognition. "She is very good at explaining things."

"She is."

The answer was simple, but Sheila noticed the certainty behind it. Liam did not flatter people casually. If he said Ariana was good at something, he meant it in the most direct and measured way possible.

’He gives Ariana more credit than he says aloud,’ Sheila thought.

That was not surprising, but it was worth noticing.

Liam watched her as she looked down briefly at her hands.

’She is still circling the point,’ he thought. ’It’s best to let her get to it.’

Sheila had not called him here to discuss exams in general. The small talk was real enough, but it was also a bridge she was building carefully, one plank at a time. Liam could press her to speak directly, but doing so would probably make the conversation sharper than it needed to be. Sheila was not Dylan. She did not waste words because she enjoyed hearing herself speak. If she was taking time, then she was deciding how much to say.

Sheila drew in a quiet breath.

"The practical exams," she said. "The academy has not announced the format yet."

"No."

"But it is obvious it will involve cooperation between the second-years in some form."

Liam said nothing.

Sheila looked up at him fully now. The uncertainty had not vanished, but it had tightened into purpose. "Since Nalim, and since the rankings changed, the second-years have looked more unified on the surface. People listen more than before. There is less open hostility between certain groups, fewer reckless challenges, and fewer students trying to prove themselves by creating trouble."

"That sounds useful."

"It is," Sheila said. "But surface unity is not the same as loyalty."

Liam’s gaze remained steady.

Sheila continued, voice calm but more serious. "Some students follow because it is convenient right now. Some follow because they believe the academy expects them to. Some follow because I am ranked one. That does not mean they truly accept my lead when pressure rises. If the practical exam requires cooperation, there may be students who hesitate, resist, or even try to sabotage decisions if they think it benefits them."

Her words remained controlled, but her thoughts moved beneath them with more tension than her face showed.

’If things become chaotic, rank alone may not hold them,’ Sheila thought. ’And if Chris chooses that moment to pull people away, I cannot afford to be surprised.’

She did not say Chris’s name immediately.

She did not need to.

Liam understood the shape of the concern before she gave it a clearer edge.

"Seems like you are thinking about Chris," he said.

Sheila’s fingers tightened slightly over one another. "Partly."

"Partly," Liam repeated.

She looked away for a brief moment, then back at him. "I am not accusing him of planning anything. Not directly. But he still has supporters. He still has influence, especially among students who do not want to admit they have begun listening to me. If tensions rise during the practical exam, he could become a problem even without doing something openly hostile."

Liam listened without interrupting.

Sheila’s frustration showed only in small ways: the controlled set of her mouth, the careful pacing of her words, the way her posture remained royal even while her thoughts were clearly less composed. She was not afraid of Chris in a simple sense. She was wary of what he represented. A rival center of loyalty. A prince with enough pride to resent being lowered. A student now ranked fifth but still socially dangerous if others chose to rally around him at the wrong time.

"He is ranked fifth now," Liam said. "That gives you less to worry about than before."

"Less," Sheila agreed. "Not nothing."

"True."

That small agreement seemed to matter to her, though it did not ease the problem.

Liam continued, "If leadership is decided by rank, you will be made leader. Asher will likely be made vice because he is ranked second."

Sheila’s expression tightened at once. "That is exactly what I am worried about."

Liam tilted his head slightly. "Asher is strong."

"I know."

"He is dependable when he chooses to be."

"I know that too," Sheila said. "But he does not have the patience to lead others properly. He is improving, but leading Asher himself can already be a problem. If he is placed as my vice, half my time will be spent making sure he does not turn every disagreement into a personal challenge."

Liam considered that.

Asher had matured, but maturity did not erase temperament. He could be sharp, intense, competitive, and useful in situations where strength and conviction mattered. But leading a mixed group of second-years through a practical exam required more than power. It required patience with weak students, judgment under frustration, and the ability to keep people aligned even when they were afraid, angry, or being stupid.

Asher had many strengths.

Patience was not near the top.

Sheila leaned forward slightly. "I would prefer you as my vice."

Liam’s eyes narrowed faintly.

There it was.

Sheila saw the change in his expression and pressed before he could reject the idea too quickly. "Months ago, when we agreed that I would take on leadership over the second-years, you said you would play your part as my vice."

"I did."

"Then you remember."

"I remember."

"Then why do you already look like you intend to refuse?"

"Because the situation was different then," Liam said. "I was ranked one."

Sheila did not immediately respond.

Liam’s tone remained practical, not defensive. "Now I am ranked third. If the academy uses rank structure, Asher has the official reason to stand beside you. I do not."

Sheila’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but in recognition.

’He is using the ranking structure as a shield,’ she thought. ’He still wants nothing to do with leading them.’

She had expected resistance. Liam had never hidden his dislike for the role people tried to place on him. He did not want to be the second-years’ symbol, commander, or reassuring figure. His presence inspired obedience from some and fear from others, but he had always doubted whether that could become real alignment. That was why he had wanted her to take the visible role in the first place.

Still, knowing that did not make his refusal less frustrating.

"You know this is not only about official rank," Sheila said.

"It will be to the academy."

"Perhaps. But if I have a choice, I want the most reliable mind beside me."

"That does not have to be me."

"It should be," Sheila said, and this time a little more of her frustration slipped through. "With you helping me, I would not have to worry as much about Chris or anyone still siding with him. You see problems before others admit they exist. You do not panic. You do not care enough about popularity to make foolish decisions for approval. That is useful."

"It is also why many students would resist you more if I stood beside you officially."

Sheila paused.

Liam continued, "Some respect me now. Some fear me. Some still dislike me. If you make me vice, you turn their hesitation toward me into hesitation toward you."

"That may happen," she admitted.

"It will."

"But that does not mean I should ignore your usefulness."

"I did not say ignore it."

Sheila leaned back slightly, studying him with a look that balanced irritation and thoughtfulness. "Then what are you saying?"

Liam rested one arm against the chair. "If the academy authorities choose the leader and vice, there may be nothing you can do. If the students are allowed to choose, or if you are chosen as leader and allowed to pick your own vice, choose Edith Roswell."

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