The week following the partner assignments was a study in controlled chaos.
"Your form is wrong again," Aldrich commented, watching Marcus attempt a basic enhancement spell. They were in one of the academy's smaller practice rooms, which Aldrich had specifically chosen because it was visible from the main courtyard. "The noble families' method of channeling mana is needlessly complex."
"Easy for you to say," Marcus muttered, sweat beading on his forehead. "Not all of us have perfect magical circuits."
"That's exactly my point." Aldrich stepped closer, deliberately ignoring the group of noble daughters who'd gathered by the window to watch. "Your 'common' magical pathways are actually more efficient. They're just... underdeveloped."
From the doorway came a derisive snort. Lucas Sterling leaned against the frame, his lightning magic crackling faintly around him in a display that was pure peacocking.
"Is this what the great Aldrich Vale has been reduced to? Playing teacher to a commoner?"
"Better than playing escort to your fan club," Aldrich replied without looking up. "Though I suppose someone has to keep the mediocre entertained."
Lucas's easy smile tightened. "You know, I've been wondering about that fever of yours. The timing was... interesting. Right after the Blackwood Duchy's failed attempt to arrange a marriage between you and Aria."
That got Aldrich's attention. He turned slowly, golden eyes gleaming. "Oh? Do tell."
"Just saying, people don't change that dramatically overnight. Unless..." Lucas let the implication hang.
"Unless they were never that person to begin with?" Aldrich finished, smiling. "Careful, Sterling. You're showing signs of actual intelligence. It might ruin your reputation."
"Brother." Evelyn appeared behind Lucas, her ruby eyes troubled. "The Student Council is requesting your presence. There have been... complaints about your research methods."
"Let me guess," Aldrich drawled. "Our dear sister Rosalind is concerned about family reputation? Or is it Sophia, worried that my theories about common magic might upset her precious church's teachings?"
"Both, actually." Aria stepped out from behind a pillar, frost spreading where her feet touched. "Along with my father's formal protest about your misuse of Blackwood family secrets."
"Secrets?" Aldrich raised an eyebrow. "You mean the ice manipulation techniques your family stole from common frost mages three generations ago? Those secrets?"
The temperature dropped sharply. "You dare—"
"Oh, I dare quite a lot." Aldrich turned back to Marcus. "Show them what we've been working on."
Marcus hesitated, then held out his hand. A small flame appeared—nothing extraordinary, except...
"That's impossible," Aria whispered. The flame had the same crystalline quality as her ice, something that should have required generations of specialized bloodline enhancement.
"Wrong again." Aldrich's smile was vicious. "Your families have spent centuries building magical walls when you should have been building bridges. Marcus's common magic, properly understood, can replicate any of your bloodline abilities. Tomorrow's evaluation matches should be... enlightening."
"You're playing a dangerous game," Lucas warned, but his eyes showed interest rather than anger.
"Games are meant to be played," Aldrich replied. "And pieces are meant to be moved." His gaze swept over them all—the step-sisters who couldn't let go, the ice princess hiding her curiosity behind fury, the playboy whose act was slipping. "Even the ones that think they're players."
Later, alone with Marcus, his research partner finally asked the question that had been building all week.
"Why me? Really?"
Aldrich paused in his note-taking. "Because you have nothing to protect and everything to gain. The nobles? They're all defending something—family pride, religious doctrine, social status. It makes them predictable." He gestured to the notes. "Tomorrow, we show them exactly how fragile their foundations are. Are you ready to help me break the world, Marcus?"
Marcus looked at the complex magical theories they'd developed—theories that could upend centuries of noble dominance. "They'll hate you for this."
"No," Aldrich's eyes glittered with dark amusement. "They'll hate themselves for being fascinated by it. There's a difference."
The next morning, as they headed to the practice arena, the tension in the academy was thick enough to cut. Everyone had heard rumors about the Vale prodigy's experiments, but no one was prepared for what he was about to demonstrate.