In Eiran's study room, Celine continued her class for another hour.
"And so, you need to always make sure you have control over your powers, Young Master," Celine finished, inscribing the last spell on the board.
She stretched her arm before setting the marker down. She turned—and froze.
The young master was slumped over the desk, his silver hair hiding his face entirely. They weren't long enough to hide his complexion.
Her heart skipped a beat.
"Young Master…?" she whispered, stepping closer.
No response.
She frowned.
Is it one of his tricks again?
Wondering, she called louder.
"Young Master? You win, I lose, alright?"
Silence answered her once again.
She repeatedly shouted his name but the boy did not move. Her voice had turned hoarse and with shaking hands, she lifted his head—half-expecting a prank.
Her breath caught. His forehead burned under her fingers, scorching hot.
