Eydis found herself entangled in a narrative cliché, a reflection of one of Dean Gidion Swans' cherished romances. The magnetic pull of forbidden love, weaving through societal barriers and class disparities, appealed to avid readers. She, however, resisted the notion of casting herself as a conventional heroine, knowing her reality was far from such tales.
Yet, the Duke of Silverkeep, moonlight turning his hair to polished silver and his eyes, usually glacial, holding a simmering heat, stood outside her door like a character from those very books.
"I'm glad that you're safe," he uttered a few words, but his eyes conveyed volumes. Eydis pondered when the stoic duke began shedding his mask of indifference. "If I had known about the dangerous beasts in the woods…I would have…" He stammered, shame carving lines on his brow, and for once, wouldn't meet her eyes.
A serene smile curved her lips. "I can handle myself, Duke Theomund," she reassured him, a melody in her voice.
"While I had no doubt about your intellect, unfortunately, this contest aimed to find the strongest student, and…" Eydis sneezed, a consequence of the night spent in the woods, abruptly cutting him off. Duke Theomund promptly draped his coat over her shoulders, the soft, warm fabric and his lingering scent bringing comfort.
Seizing the opportunity to lighten the mood, she grinned, "Speaking of strength, can you imagine Captain Lionel's face when he learns you'll be gone another month?" Her chuckle resonated, and the fondness for the fiery captain and his equally blunt sister warmed her.
Duke Theomund joined in with a soft laugh, the sound echoing in the vast hall. As he reached out, his lips brushed lightly against her hand, lingering longer than etiquette allowed.
Unbeknownst to them, the Duke felt a gaze pierce his back, sharp and unseen. Glancing into the shadows, a tremor ruffled his composure. When he turned back to Eydis, his hand lingered on hers, the warmth radiating through his glove.
"He would understand," the Duke said, "I have... commitments." His touch hesitated at the boundary of her wrist, then fell away.
Eydis lowered her voice, her long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. "Of course, you have certain duties to the emperor, isn't that right?"
His eyes, like molten silver, met hers, and a flicker of understanding crossed his face. He acknowledged the invisible line she had drawn between them, a boundary he was forbidden to cross. Even if he yearned to.
Eydis remained an enigma, her emotions swirling behind a mask of gold freckles and brown eyes that shimmered with hidden depths. The air crackled with unspoken longing and forbidden desires. "Forfeit the next round, Eydis," the Duke's voice broke the charged silence, an urgency underlying his concern.
Eydis met his stare, defiance flickering in her eyes. "I appreciate your concern, Your Grace, truly. But the die is cast, my hand dealt. I can't fold now."
The Duke sighed, expecting her answer. He knew her, the paradox of her thirst for the edge against her iron will to survive. "Then John will remain your shadow, a silent guardian if need be."
Eydis's smile faltered, eyes seeking solace in the descent of a lone orange maple leaf. "But wouldn't that... anger the Emperor? You meddling in his game?"
Duke Theomund's lips curved into an enigmatic smile, his hand hovering near her hair before retreating. "I have my way, Eydis."
"Your Grace, I was just your mere maid, hardly a concern worthy of your machinations."
Theomund's gaze softened, his voice husky with emotion, "You are more than that, Eydis. You are significant to me."
Not significant enough, Eydis thought, carefully concealing her sentiments within her mind. She pondered why he treated her as if they were intimate lovers, as equal when he was well aware their relationship was doomed from the beginning. Wasn't he a walking paradox?
And just what sort of deal did he make with Emperor Ares to secure John as her guardian?
**
As the first round of the tournament drew to a close, the ranks of students thinned to a mere thirty. Ten lives, tragically lost, twenty others saved by the desperate plea of flares against the night sky.
Dean Gidion Swans faced severe criticism for neglecting the S-Class beasts, and took the brunt of the public blame. Four noble students, their futures cut tragically short. This stain marred Gidion's remarkable accomplishments. But he had no choice but to be the Emperor's sacrificial lamb. Placed on probation with a public rebuke, he was stripped of oversight for the upcoming rounds. Lord Grant stepped into the fraught space, carrying out the emperor's order like his religion.
This incident became another pretext for the Emperor's mass witch hunt, a wildfire spreading through the Great Achymia Empire amid the ongoing contest.
Standing before the Emperor, Dean Swans donned a mask of compliance, his eyes betraying a flicker of disdain beneath the carefully crafted expression. "Foolish boy," he thought, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "You chase shadows while the true darkness stands unacknowledged beside you."
"Not cunning enough," unlike his student, who managed to magically survive the whole ordeal without a single injury.
"How did you do that, Eydis?" The question echoed in his mind, whether her smooth progression to the next round was pure luck or if she concealed an ability even the mighty royals couldn't detect.
"Earth to Dean Swans!" A snap of fingers startled Dean from his daydream. There she sat, casually on his desk, her hand nursing one of his romantic novels. The late afternoon sun glinted off a silver pendant nestled against her throat, casting shifting shadows across her mischievous smile.
Dean Gidion Swans cleared his throat, his cheeks dusty with slight embarrassment, observing the title she was reading: "The Undead and I: Forbidden Lore of the Duchess."
"Would you please stop reading my collections without permission? Don't you have the next round to prepare for?" he pleaded, fully aware that she would likely do the opposite.
Eydis shrugged, a matcha cookie disappearing between her lips. Crumbs dusted her manicured fingers as she traced the book's embossed lettering. "Just an observation, Dean," she drawled, voice laden with a conspiratorial purr. "Do you find yourself drawn to...forbidden love across the chasms of time? First edition, no less."
"Please, we do not have this conversation right now," the dean complained, rubbing his temple.
Her grin widened as she pressed, "But don't you find it irksome? For someone who has lived for eternity to love a mere…child. Kind of pedophilic, if I may add."
She was baiting him, he knew it, teetering on the edge of his tolerance. "She was not a child, Miss Eydis," Indigo clipped, the strain evident in his voice. "A full-grown woman who can make her own choices, however unwise."
Eydis tilted her head, "Age," she drawled, her voice a silken caress, "is merely a number. But tell me, Dean Swans, what kind of woman throws herself into the arms of a shadowy undead without a thought for the consequences?"
The dean smiled, liking the direction of this debate, "Are you describing yourself, my dear assistant, one who refused to back down from unseen dangers?"
Eydis hopped off the desk, brushing imaginary dust from her dress. "Please, Dean Swans, you and I both know that life isn't fun without taking some…calculated risk."
"A risk that may cost you your life, are you sure it is a calculated risk?" Dean Swans retorted, finding it the right time to call out her risk-taking behaviour.
Unfazed, Eydis smiled at him genuinely, "I appreciate your concerns for my well being, Dean. But I'd be safe." Her eyes lingered on his with a calculated gleaming, "Let's just say my steps are guided by unseen eyes." She murmured, her voice edged with a melody he couldn't decipher.
Could she have known?
His jaw clenched, a tremor of fear battling with his carefully crafted facade. It was impossible, utterly impossible. She was no doubt a brilliant mind, but there was absolutely no chance she could see through their meticulously crafted identity. Indigo Crane never made such a mistake.
"Unseen eyes?" he croaked, the question tearing its way free.
Eydis placed a book back on the shelf, her movements deliberate. "Duke Theomund," she purred, "has a keen eye for both beauty and protection."
Gidion Swans let out a silent breath, his eyes betraying none of the turmoil within. He had almost been caught off guard, his carefully constructed mask nearly slipping. One thing was clear: Eydis was not just a student. She was a puzzle, one he needed to solve before it unravelled him.