The bell rang five times after dusk as the students emptied into the hallways of the Halls, signaling the end of the day and any lectures.
Master Agnel sipped his infusion of bitter fennel and thyme in his lecture hall. Though he was a teacher of thaumaturgy, he created simple potions for his own benefit.
This one he made because he liked the taste.
He scowled over the rim of his porcelain cup.
Mistress Louvart slowly walked to him after the sea of students had left.
Her long, thin fingers wrapped around another cup that Agnel had prepared already, and she poured herself a bit of the infusion.
She did not ask, and he did not stop her. They had known and taught beside each other long enough for such small permissions to go unspoken.
Louvart sipped and made a soft, surprised sound in the back of her throat. "Too bitter."
"Not for me," Agnel muttered, swirling the remnants in his cup.
She didn't argue. Instead, she moved to the empty row of desks, brushed a trail of chalk dust from one, and sat.
"I heard they added more benches outside the Construct Wing," Louvart said.
Agnel didn't look up. "They already did. Normally, even a hundred students wouldn't be a problem, but the Construct Wing can't handle that many. Students arrive early just to secure good seats for Vellichor's lectures."
"Some even bring their lunches because they get hungry waiting for so long," Louvart said.
Agnel set the cup aside and began to pace with the energy of a man who was in the middle of being passed over by history itself.
"It's absurd. It's a beginner's course. It's mud and clay. They're not even binding anything worthwhile yet, and yet they watch him like he's decoding the divine."
"Maybe he is," Louvart said, half-joking.
"Oh, don't start."
But she only raised her brows.
Agnel halted in front of a table that bore runework from his lesson on sympathetic bindings. He stared at the faintly glowing ink. They should have known better than to scribble on the desks.
"It's not just the students," he muttered.
Louvart tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"The staff," he said. "You've seen it too. Half of them greet him like he's the next magical messiah. The other half cross the hall to avoid him. What was Promio thinking, hiring him?"
Louvart nodded along, though she didn't add anything herself.
"I don't like things that don't fit," Agnel said.
"He does fit," Louvart said. "Just not the way we expect. He teaches. He corrects papers. He minds the boundaries. I've talked to him a few times. He's polite, painfully so. You'd think someone like that would be more rude or stand out more."
Agnel frowned. "He didn't come here to teach. That I'm sure of."
"He is teaching almost exactly what you'd find in any textbook."