Elyra stood by the academy's side gate, just beyond the outer garden path, where the usual patrols didn't pass until noon.
She wore black.
A long, fitted coat with silver trim and high collar, tailored to both elegance and movement. Her hair, normally braided tight, fell loose around her shoulders. A single crimson gem hung at her neck—small, understated, but unmistakably Estermont.
She held two sealed parchments in one hand.
Official passes, signed and countersigned.
And she waited.
'Today I have to be sure, I need to understand this strange feeling.'
Then came the sound of approaching steps.
Noel.
He wore a dark blue coat—deep, almost midnight in color—with silver fastenings and a subtle Thorne crest stitched onto one sleeve. His usual expression was there: unreadable, casual, a little bored.
But his eyes scanned everything, always.
He stopped in front of her, hands in his pockets.
"So. Are we breaking school law or just bending it creatively?"
