Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 1163: Student Affairs (2)

”Then what brings the two of you here?”

Elara looked at Lucavion and considered how much of the truth his question deserved.

The simplest answer was the notice folded across her lap. The more troubling answer lay in the two names written upon it.

Had the Academy summoned Elowyn Caerlin alone, Elara could have blamed private instruction, irregular prerequisites, or some clerk attempting to fit a minor noblewoman’s education into the Academy’s approved categories. Had the notice named Reilan Dorne alone, Cedric could have blamed his martial placement or the documentation attaching him to the Caerlin household.

Instead, both cards had lit at the same table.

The summons had accused them of nothing. It bore no disciplinary seal, named no hostile faculty member, and requested only that they report to Student Affairs with their Academy cards and documents relevant to prior instruction and permanent placement.

Its restraint had given Elara’s imagination far too much room.

She had reread the notice while crossing the central grounds with Cedric. The wording remained unchanged beneath the projected map that sent them around one courtyard, through an administrative passage, and almost back toward the same courtyard from another direction. Elara’s interpretations had been less disciplined. Their shared history, the Caerlin records, Cedric’s place within the household, her examination results, and every moment when Elowyn had displayed more precision than her public education comfortably explained had taken turns becoming the Academy’s supposed concern.

Eveline had built the identity to withstand scrutiny. The tutors, seals, correspondence, and household records all existed, supported by enough dull administrative history to exhaust an ordinary investigation.

Cedric’s refusal to offer that familiar reassurance had troubled Elara more than she wanted to admit.

He had walked beside her with the documents tucked beneath one arm, careful not to take command of the route or tell her how they would respond. His restraint honored the promise he had made after their recent disagreement. It also left her waiting for the certainty he would once have supplied without being asked.

Eventually, Elara had stopped beneath one of the directional crystals. ”You can say it.”

Cedric had checked the passing students before answering. ”Say what?”

”Whatever version of ’I warned you’ you have been carrying since the dining hall.”

His hand had tightened once around the folder. ”I said I would stop making your choices for you. I never said I would pretend they were all sensible.”

He had not mentioned Lucavion. He had not needed to. Attention accumulated, and far too much of the attention surrounding Elowyn Caerlin had recently involved black hair, a lazy smile, and an inconvenient talent for appearing wherever concealed matters became difficult.

Now that same person waited beside her under the number C-47.

Elara adjusted the notice across her lap. ”We received a summons.”

Lucavion’s gaze moved to Cedric’s folder before returning to her. ”Together?”

”The same notice named both of us.”

His posture remained loose against the chair, but the idle amusement behind his eyes receded. ”Do your academic records overlap?”

”They may,” Elara said, because the cover required them to. ”Reilan’s household attachment includes parts of my private instruction.”

Cedric tapped the folder once against his knee. ”The Academy requested supporting records. If this is a placement review, the documents should settle it.”

Lucavion regarded the folder. ”You appear to have brought enough documents to settle a border dispute.”

”The rest are in storage.”

The answer came so evenly that Elara looked at Cedric. He continued facing Lucavion, leaving her uncertain whether he had made a joke or merely stated an alarming fact.

Lucavion accepted it with a small inclination of his head. ”Preparedness is admirable.”

The queue board changed to C-45, and a clerk’s voice carried across the waiting area before Elara could question either of them.

”Reilan Dorne. Records and Course Placement, counter three.”

Cedric rose. Elara went with him, while Lucavion remained beneath his own number and followed them with his eyes.

The clerk at counter three had iron-gray hair, an orderly desk, and the professionally neutral expression of someone who had learned never to react before reading the complete file. She accepted Cedric’s Academy card, pressed it against the crystal panel, and allowed several lines of pale text to unfold.

Her finger stopped halfway down the record.

”Reilan Dorne, your file requires private verification before we can finalize your placement.”

Cedric set the folder upon the counter. ”What requires verification?”

”Your identity, training history, and household sponsorship.” The clerk gathered the documents without opening them. ”The registrar assigned to your case is waiting in Room Seven.”

Elara placed her card beside Cedric’s. ”My name appears on the same summons.”

The clerk checked it and returned the card. ”Your file has not been cleared for joint review. You will wait here unless the registrar requests your testimony.”

”Testimony?” Elara repeated.

”Verification,” the clerk corrected without changing expression. ”If the registrar does not require it, your placement will proceed separately.”

Cedric turned enough for Elara to see the question in his face. He could refuse. They could demand a joint review, withdraw the documents, or insist upon knowing who had ordered the verification before allowing either of them through that corridor.

Every refusal would make an administrative request appear worthy of suspicion.

Elara answered with a small shake of her head.

The clerk indicated the passage beside the counter. ”Room Seven is the second door on the left.”

Cedric collected the folder and looked at Elara once more before entering the corridor. His pace remained measured until the second door closed behind him.

Elara stayed beside the counter for several breaths.

No spell-seal appeared across the door. Security did not enter the corridor, and no Magisterial witness arrived to turn an academic review into an interrogation. Students continued arguing over schedules behind her. Crystal panels chimed, clerks redirected forms, and Room Seven remained offensively ordinary.

Cedric was still inside alone.

The categories named by the clerk returned in less harmless arrangements. How long had Reilan served the Caerlin household? Which tutor had supervised his training? Which years overlapped with Elowyn’s instruction? A registrar could ask any of those questions in an order that transformed a minor discrepancy into a reason for another question.

Cedric knew the prepared history as well as she did. That did not allow Elara to hear which parts he was being asked to defend.

”You are frightening the door,” Lucavion said behind her.

Elara kept her eyes on Room Seven. ”I am watching it.”

”With considerable hostility. It may surrender if you give it another minute.”

She turned toward him. Lucavion had remained in his chair, one arm resting along its back while his attention stayed upon her rather than the queue board.

”Your confidence in my ability to intimidate architecture is touching.”

”I try to recognize talent wherever it appears.”

Elara returned to the corridor, but Lucavion continued before her thoughts could rebuild their earlier rhythm.

”Student Affairs would be an unusual place to begin if the Academy believed it had uncovered something criminal.”

”That proves nothing.”

”No, but it may mean something.” His tone lost some of its mockery. ”They called for records, assigned a registrar, and allowed Reilan to walk into the room carrying his own documents. Security has shown no interest in improving the atmosphere.”

”You have no idea what they are asking him.”

”Neither do you.”

Elara looked at him sharply.

Lucavion met her irritation without retreat. ”You have still answered most of their possible questions on their behalf. Several times, judging by your expression.”

”I was unaware my expression had become so informative.”

”Only to gifted observers.”

”And naturally, you count yourself among them.”

”Modesty prevents me from answering.”

The familiar irritation arrived before Elara realized that she had turned fully toward him, leaving Room Seven at the edge of her vision. Lucavion had offered no promise that Cedric would be safe and no certainty that the summons was harmless. He had interrupted her worst conclusions with the few facts available, then made himself objectionable enough that she had to deal with him instead.

Elara resented the success enough to let the argument continue.

”Your modesty has survived remarkably well without ever being observed,” she said.

”Some virtues are private.”

”In your case, imaginary.”

Lucavion’s mouth curved, though he allowed her the last word.

The board shifted overhead to C-46.

He glanced up. ”My great administrative trial approaches.”

Elara followed his attention to the number. Once C-47 appeared, Lucavion would take his question to the counter. After that, the new schedules would pull them toward opposite sides of the Academy. The Examination Period had forced them through the same halls, waiting rooms, meals, and disasters. Their permanent Blocks would leave far less to chance.

She folded the notice more carefully across her lap.

”Do not forget tonight.”

Lucavion’s gaze returned to her. He already knew what she meant; the faint change in his expression made that much obvious.

”I may remember.”

Elara held his gaze. ”You will be there.”