Morning came like it always did in Viserk.
Structured. Predictable. Calm in a way that felt almost deliberate.
Which made it worse.
Because Pryan knew it wasn't calm.
Not anymore.
Class 1A gathered slowly, the usual rhythm settling into place.
Chairs shifted. Books opened. Conversations overlapped without anyone needing to guide them.
Mireya dropped into her seat and leaned back.
"If this turns into another lecture about 'perception,' I'm walking out. Strategically."
Lucien didn't look up.
"You'll walk out and come back in three minutes because you'll want to argue."
"I don't argue," she said. "I correct people."
"That's worse."
Nyra smiled into her notes, trying not to laugh.
Jorn leaned back in his chair.
"You two have been correcting each other since yesterday."
"And yet he's still wrong," Mireya replied.
Lucien finally glanced at her.
"That's confidence."
"That's accuracy."
"That's delusion."
"That's survival."
Nyra lost it.
"Okay—stop, I can't write like this."
Aurelian sat quietly, flipping a page without comment.
Seris rested her chin lightly against her hand, gaze drifting between people rather than staying on one.
Pryan sat still.
Listening.
Watching.
Not withdrawn.
Just… present without needing to enter every conversation.
The door opened.
No announcement.
Kaien stepped in.
And that alone shifted the room.
Not tension.
Focus.
He didn't go to the front immediately.
Just stood there for a moment, like he was letting the room settle on its own.
Then—
"Change of plan."
Lucien blinked.
"…That's never a good start."
Mireya straightened slightly.
Kaien walked forward, unhurried.
"There has been a leak."
Silence.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just… complete.
Nyra's pen stopped mid-word.
Jorn's chair creaked as he leaned forward.
"A leak?" Lucien repeated.
"Information," Kaien said. "Restricted. High-level."
Mireya's expression changed.
Not surprised.
Focused.
"How high?" she asked.
"High enough that only a few people should have known it."
That landed.
Seris' fingers stilled.
Aurelian didn't move.
Pryan's gaze sharpened slightly.
Kaien continued.
"This is not external."
A pause.
"It is inside."
No one spoke.
Not even Mireya.
Because now—
This wasn't a lesson.
Mireya leaned forward slowly.
"…My father sent something yesterday."
The room shifted toward her.
She didn't hesitate.
"Information that should not have left the Crown circle… appeared elsewhere."
Lucien exhaled.
"…That's bad."
"That's very bad," Nyra added quietly.
Kaien nodded once.
"Yes."
Jorn spoke next.
"So what are we doing?"
Kaien looked at them.
Not the class.
Each of them.
"Working."
A beat.
"Seven days."
Lucien frowned.
"…Seven days of what exactly?"
"Holiday," Kaien said.
Lucien blinked.
"That sounds suspicious."
"It is."
Mireya let out a breath.
"…So we're being sent out."
"Yes."
"And watched?"
"Yes."
"And tested?"
"Yes."
Lucien leaned back.
"…At least he's honest."
Kaien turned slightly.
"Mireya."
She straightened immediately.
"You will return home."
No reaction.
She expected that.
"You will not go alone."
That—
Changed things.
A pause spread across the room.
Then—
Lucien raised his hand.
"I volunteer."
Nyra raised hers.
"…Same."
Jorn didn't even raise his hand.
"I'll go."
Rhea leaned forward.
"I can manage formal settings."
Isen straightened instantly like he'd been waiting.
"I have experience with structured households."
"Since when?" Lucien asked.
"Since I read about them."
"That doesn't count."
"It absolutely counts."
Mireya rubbed her forehead.
"…Stop."
They did.
But not immediately.
It took a second.
Kaien didn't interrupt.
Didn't guide.
He just stood there.
Waiting.
Mireya looked around the room.
Then said—
"…No."
That cut through everything.
"I'm not choosing like this."
Lucien raised an eyebrow.
"Then how?"
She exhaled slowly.
"…If I pick wrong, it's not just awkward."
Nyra nodded.
"They'll question everything."
"Exactly."
Aurelian spoke quietly.
"Then don't choose alone."
Mireya glanced at him.
"…What do you mean?"
"Let the class decide."
Lucien blinked.
"…That actually makes sense."
Jorn nodded.
"Majority."
Nyra added softly,
"That way, it's not just your judgment."
Mireya looked at Kaien.
He didn't say anything.
Which meant—
That was the answer.
"…Fine," she said.
A breath.
"Majority."
Aurelian didn't hesitate.
"Pryan."
The name landed clean.
No emphasis.
No force.
Just… placed.
Lucien frowned.
"…Why him?"
Aurelian didn't look at him.
"He doesn't react unnecessarily."
Jorn added,
"He holds position."
Nyra:
"He listens before speaking."
Elyra, quiet as always—
"He adjusts."
Lucien leaned back slowly.
"…I hate that this is convincing."
Rhea nodded.
"It is."
Isen sighed.
"…I had a speech ready."
"No one asked for it," Mireya said.
Another name came up.
Then another.
But none held.
Not like that one.
Not long enough.
The room settled.
Naturally.
No pressure.
No forcing.
Mireya looked at Pryan.
"…You're fine with this?"
Pryan answered honestly.
"I don't mind."
Lucien muttered,
"That's the most dangerous answer you could've given."
"…Then it's decided," Mireya said.
And immediately—
Lucien clapped once.
"Now the real problem."
Mireya didn't even look at him.
"I know."
"You need a reason."
"Yes."
Silence.
Thinking.
Then—
Rhea said it.
Casually.
Like it was obvious.
"Just say you like him."
Pause.
A full pause.
Mireya turned.
"…No."
Immediate.
Lucien leaned forward.
"…That would work."
Nyra nodded slowly.
"It actually would."
Jorn shrugged.
"They won't question that."
Mireya stared at all of them.
"You're all insane."
Lucien smiled.
"No, we're practical."
Aurelian added quietly,
"If you hesitate, they'll notice."
That landed.
Harder than the joke.
Mireya exhaled.
"…Fine."
Lucien lit up.
"Oh, we're doing this."
"No, we're not—"
"We absolutely are."
Nyra covered her mouth.
"You need to practice."
"I hate all of you."
Mireya stood.
Turned toward Pryan.
Looked away.
Then—
"…I like him."
Silence.
Lucien dropped his head.
"That was horrible."
Nyra turned away laughing.
"That sounded like you were being threatened."
Jorn shook his head.
"They'll interrogate you immediately."
Mireya groaned.
"…I know."
She tried again.
Worse.
"I… like him."
Lucien leaned back.
"That's somehow worse."
"How is that worse?"
"You added hesitation."
"That's because I hate this."
"That's coming through very clearly."
Pryan spoke, calm but firm.
"I am not doing this again."
Mireya snapped back instantly.
"You're not doing anything."
"That's exactly the problem."
Lucien pointed.
"He's already suffering."
Seris finally spoke.
Quiet.
"Your tone is wrong."
Everyone looked at her.
Mireya frowned.
"…Then fix it."
Seris stood.
Walked over.
Stopped in front of her.
"You're trying to convince them," she said.
"…Yes?"
"Don't."
A pause.
"Say it like it's already decided."
Mireya blinked.
Then tried again.
Softer.
Less forced.
"…I like him."
Silence.
Different this time.
Lucien lowered his hand slowly.
"…Okay."
Nyra nodded.
"That's believable."
Jorn added,
"They won't question that."
Mireya exhaled.
"…I hate this so much."
Seris stepped back.
"Don't overdo it."
Her gaze flicked—
Just once—
Toward Pryan.
Then away.
Kaien let the room breathe.
Then—
"Two days."
Everyone stilled.
"Preparation."
Lucien frowned.
"…Preparation for what?"
Kaien answered simply.
"Not being caught."
That shifted everything again.
"Valeria Dornhal will assist."
A few exchanged looks.
"And Instructor Virel Kaith."
Lucien muttered,
"That sounds dangerous."
Nyra whispered,
"…Who is that?"
Kaien replied,
"Former imperial intelligence."
No one joked after that.
Mireya sat back down slowly.
No hesitation left now.
Just focus.
Pryan leaned back slightly.
Thinking.
Measuring.
This wasn't class anymore.
This wasn't training.
This was the beginning of something else.
And for the first time since arriving at Viserk—
Class 1A wasn't just being observed.
They were being used.