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Chapter 883 - In that night

It didn't bother her.

Not in the way she had once feared it might.

Elara sat there, alone in the hush of the dormitory, fingers still curled against her knees. She let the silence settle like dust around her ribs, breathing it in until her lungs stopped reaching for noise.

No one had seen her. Not truly.

Not Isolde. Not Adrian. Not even the stewards who had brushed past her with shallow bows and polite dismissal. The illusion had held. The layers of spellcraft, voice shift, posture correction, subtle glyphs stitched into her inner sleeve by Eveline's hand—they had all done their job.

She had passed through the heart of the Academy's elite like smoke through lattice.

Unnoticed.

And that was the point, wasn't it?

Her hands curled tighter.

'So why does it feel like this?'

She had expected rage. Shame. At the very least, unease. But instead, there was only this cold... clarity. Like ice on the inside of her chest. Clean, but heavy.

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