The door clicked shut behind him.
Adrian stood with his back against it, his jaw still tight. The wood was cold through his shirt.
Across the room, Lilith watched him from the bed, her head tilted, her ash-blonde hair catching the lamplight.
"You know her?" she asked.
Adrian exhaled. "I knew her."
Lilith waited. Through the bond, he felt her curiosity, but she did not push. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
He pushed off the door and crossed the room. He sat on his bed and the mattress sagged beneath him.
He stared at the floor, as he tried to gather his thoughts.
"Before the Scar," he said. "At Rivergate. Our families knew each other." He paused, his throat tight.
The memory surfaced despite his efforts to suppress it. Her face in the crowd. The way she had turned away.
"It doesn't matter now." He said.
Lilith was quiet. She could tell that he wasn't in the mood to talk so she didn't ask further. He would tell her when he was ready.
Adrian sighed and stood up. "I need air."
He grabbed his coat from the hook by the door and left before she could answer.
---
The hallway was dimly lit, the lamps along the walls turned low for the evening. Their muted glow stretched long shadows across the stone floor. Adrian's footsteps echoed softly as he walked, each step slow and steady.
His thoughts, however, were anything but scattered now.
They had narrowed to a single point.
Serena Ashford.
Her presence at his door was not by chance. It could not be. Someone like her did not act without reason, and she certainly did not take interest in something she had already dismissed. That alone was enough to unsettle him.
He passed Ethan's door, noting the faint strip of light beneath it and the quiet, tuneless hum filtering into the corridor. Further down, Tessa's door remained closed and dark, offering no sign of movement within.
He did not stop at either and walked down the stairs. He got to the common room and found it empty.
Chairs were pushed against the walls. A fire had burned down to embers in the hearth, the last of its heat fading into the cold stone.
Adrian walked through it without stopping, his boots loud on the floorboards.
He pushed open the side door and stepped outside.
Cold air hit him first.
It was not the biting cold of the Scar, the kind that seeped into your bones and stayed there. This was softer. The air smelled of damp earth and old stone, of wet leaves and something else—woodsmoke, maybe, from someone's hearth.
He stopped at the edge of the courtyard and looked up.
The sky was fading from blue to grey. The first stars were starting to show, faint pinpricks of light scattered across the darkening canvas.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked.
---
The academy grounds were quiet at this hour.
Most students were in the dining hall or their rooms. A few lingered near the fountain in the main courtyard, their voices low, their laughter soft.
Groups of students gathered beneath the lamplight, their conversations filled with laughter rising and fading in gentle waves. The atmosphere was calm, almost ordinary at a glance.
But Adrian did not look at it that way.
The division was always there.
The nobles stood at the center, their presence confident, their movements relaxed. They spoke without restraint, unbothered by who listened or who watched. The light seemed to favor them, or perhaps they simply occupied it by right.
The commoners remained at the edges.
Their voices were lower, their presence quieter, more contained. They did not draw attention, nor did they seek it. They simply existed within the same space, aware of the boundaries that were never spoken but always understood.
Adrian kept to the edges, away from the light. He did not want to be seen. He didn't want to talk to anyone.
His body still ached. The impact of Cassius's blade had left bruises he had not noticed until now. He could feel them when he moved, dull and throbbing.
He found a bench near the old fountain. It was worn out, partially hidden by overgrown hedges that had long since escaped their intended shape. The stone basin was filled with stagnant water and scattered leaves, and moss crept along its surface in slow, uneven patterns.
He sat down.
The wood was cold beneath him. He leaned back and stared at the sky.
"You're hard to find."
Adrian turned. Mira stood at the edge of the hedges, her arms crossed. Her dark hair was pulled back, and she had dark circles under her eyes that he had not noticed before. Her coat was wrinkled, like she had been wearing it all day.
"Mira," he said.
She walked over and sat on the bench beside him. The wood creaked under her weight. She smelled like soap and something else—coffee, perhaps, or tea.
"I heard about your fight," she said.
"Word travels fast."
"It does when you're the frontier boy who almost beat Cassius Vorne." She looked at him. "You almost passed out. I heard that too."
Adrian said nothing. His hands were in his pockets. He could feel the warmth of his own skin through the fabric.
Mira studied him for a moment. "You're not going to tell me how you're still standing?"
"I'm stubborn."
She snorted. "That's one word for it."
She leaned back on the bench and looked at the sky. "I came to check on you. Second-years have their own gossip networks. When I heard Cassius challenged a first-year from the Scar, I knew it had to be you."
Adrian glanced at her. "You didn't have to come."
"I know." She was quiet for a moment. "But you saved my life back there. On the road. I don't forget things like that."
Adrian looked at the sky again. The stars were brighter now.
"The nobles are talking about you," Mira said. "Some of them are angry. A frontier boy climbing the ranks. It threatens them."
Adrian nodded. He had expected that.
"Serena Ashford is one of them," Mira continued. "She's been asking a lot about you."
Adrian kept his face still. His hands did not move but inside his chest, something tightened.
"What does she want?" he asked.
Mira shrugged. "I don't know. She runs with a group of noble girls. House Tyrian, House Falcrest. They're just first year students like you but because of their noble origin, they think they own the academy. Be careful around her. She's not what she seems."
Adrian already knew that. He had known it since Rivergate, since the moment she had turned away and left him standing alone.
"Thanks for the warning," he said.
Mira stood up. "I should go. I have early morning classes." She paused, looking down at him. "If you need anything, someone to talk to, someone to watch your back, come find me. I owe you."
She walked away before he could answer.
Adrian sat on the bench for a long time, staring at the empty fountain.
He did not know how long he stayed there.
Minutes. An hour. The stars moved across the sky. The cold air seeped through his coat and into his skin.
He thought about Rivergate. About the ceremony.
About Serena's face, turning away.
He had not thought about her in months. He had buried that memory deep, along with everything else from his old life. But seeing her at the door had dug it up.
Their earlier encounter lingered in his mind as a point of contact that he could not ignore. She had looked at him with intent, the kind that did not arise by chance, and in doing so she had shifted the balance between them, even if only slightly.
People like her did not extend attention without a reason, and attention of that kind, once given, always came with consequences.
It was no longer a matter of whether she would act, but how soon and in what direction. Ignoring her would not make the situation disappear, and reacting blindly would only give her control over the pace of whatever was coming.
That left him with a single viable approach, one that required patience and a willingness to step forward when necessary instead of waiting to be cornered.
He did not intend to let her define his position within this place, nor did he plan to remain a passive variable in someone else's calculations. If she was observing him, then he would ensure that what she observed was what he wanted her to see.
With that thought settling into place, Adrian pushed himself up from the bench and took a moment to adjust his breathing.
He stood up. His legs were stiff, his joints popping as he moved.
He slowly walked back toward the dormitory.
The hallway was empty when he returned.
The lamps had dimmed further. The shadows were longer now. He got to his door and went inside.
Lilith was still on the bed, her eyes seemingly closed. She opened them when he entered. She did not speak to him immediately, allowing him to settle down before acknowledging his presence.
"You were gone longer than expected," she said.
Adrian sat on his bed. He pulled off his boots and set them by the wall.
"Mira found me," he said. "She warned me about Serena."
Lilith tilted her head. "And?"
"And nothing. I just listened."
Lilith watched him from her place on the bed for a few minutes.
"You look like you decided on something," she said at last, her voice calm and certain.
Adrian did not respond immediately, but there was no need to deny it. The shift in his demeanor was enough to answer her.
After a moment, he spoke, his tone even and controlled as he articulated the conclusion he had reached.
"Serena reminds me of a past I wish to forget. But I won't avoid her," he said. "She doesn't know it's me which is an advantage. If she intends to observe Dorian, then I will ensure she sees what I want her to see."
Lilith studied him for a moment longer before giving a slight nod. She didn't know the full story of what the Ashford girl had done but she approved of Adrian's decision.
A King should be bold and face every situation head on.
Adrian leaned back slowly on the bed, allowing his body to rest while his thoughts continued to drift to the past. He cleared his mind and closed his eyes.
At some point, his breathing deepened and his awareness began to drift, pulling him toward sleep without his conscious approval.
---
The world suddenly shifted.
Blood spread across the ground in dark, uneven pools, soaking into the earth as though it had always belonged there. The air was heavy with the scent of it, thick and suffocating, clinging to his lungs with every breath he took.
Countless bodies lay scattered in every direction, some motionless, others twitching with faint remnants of life.
Adrian stood among them, though he could not recall how he had arrived.
His hands were stained, his clothes torn, and his body moved like it wasn't his.
Something had happened here. Something violent, something horrible, yet the details slipped away the more he tried to grasp them.
Then suddenly, a shocking realization hit him.
He was the murderer of all those bodies.