The silence in the foyer was absolute
For exactly half a second, the Headmistress of Zenith Academy was not a monarch. She was not the untouchable apex of the continent's military hierarchy. She was simply a woman staring into the face of a ghost she believed had been buried long ago. Her pristine, aristocratic features were completely drained of color. Her piercing blue eyes were wide, the pupils dilated with an emotion Vane had never expected to see on her face.
It was pure, unadulterated terror.
Vane did not move. He kept his breathing shallow and his posture entirely neutral. His combat logic recorded the micro expressions on Evangeline's face with cold precision. He cataloged the slight tremble in her hands and the erratic spike in her usually flawless mana signature. She knew the witch. The blue hair and the violet eyes meant something specific and devastating to the ruler of the academy.
Then, half the second expired.
