Three months had passed like water does through open fingers.

Ren waited outside in the stands of one of the ten 'temporary auditoriums'... 'Small' buildings for evaluations that earth elementals had generated.

The structures were impressive in their uniformity, each one identical to the others.

He was waiting his turn for what was a semi-private exam where only some acquaintances could be seen being evaluated since they'd been distributed "randomly". Luckily he and Min were together.

Min descended from the platform showing mostly relief with a bit of frustration. His posture was slouched in a way that spoke of bone-deep exhaustion.

"How did it go?" Ren asked when his friend approached, making room on the bench beside him.

"Nine out of ten," Min responded, dropping into the seat with the grace of a dropped sack of potatoes. "Failed the posture before his majesty one. Apparently my back was too 'stoic' according to the evaluator."

His voice carried bitter irony on the word 'stoic', as if it were a huge insult.

"I guess forcing it so much with those tutors of yours left it numb?"

"Ah." Min's expression shifted, realization dawning.

"Yeah. 'Ah'," Ren sighed, feeling sympathy for his friend's plight.

"But well, nine out of ten. I can live with that…"

Was it that taking everything with so much stress had been the problem like Aldric claimed?

The thought was seductive, tempting. But Ren felt something cold slide down his back despite the warm afternoon sun. Min had taken this incredibly seriously. Ren had seen him practice postures until late at night, memorize protocols while eating, murmur etiquette responses in his sleep.

And he'd still failed one.

Min, who had good form. Min, who had studied exhaustively. Min, who Ren had thought would pass everything without problem.

If Min could fail with all that effort...

Ren shook his head, physically trying to dislodge the thought. No. No point in worrying too much now. Being tense and stressed like everyone else wasn't going to help him. If there was anything good he could take from Aldric's teachings, it was that: staying calm.

Keep the confidence. Don't let nerves control you.

"At least you already passed," he said finally, optimism in his voice. "And nine out of ten is excellent when you have fifteen opportunities to fail."

With minor rewards, students could fail up to fifteen exams total over the year before serious consequences. Min had used one failure. He had fourteen left.

"I hope so," Min murmured, though he didn't sound convinced.

The next students were called one by one. Some came out with smiles of relief, their shoulders light, their steps bouncing with the joy of success. Others with tears escaping even as they bit their lips or clenched their mouths shut, trying desperately to maintain dignity in the face of failure.

A boy from another of the three main academies approached out pale as death after failing four out of ten. His friends surrounded him immediately, but he seemed not to see them, staring at nothing with hollow eyes.

Four failures already. He only had eleven left for the entire year.

"Klein Goldcrest," the announcer's voice resonated in auditorium number 5, where Ren found himself waiting with Min.

Ren straightened slightly, watching as Klein walked toward the platform with measured steps. The ex-Goldcrest heir had changed. He still had that ingrained noble posture, but there was something different in how he moved now.

Less arrogance, more... More awareness.

In Ren's opinion, he deserved that small nobility they'd gifted him despite everything that had happened before. Some people could change. Perhaps Klein was proof of that.

Klein's exams were a spectacle of technical perfection. Each bow at the exact angle, not a degree off. Each answer articulated with aristocratic clarity, every syllable precisely formed. Each gesture executed with the precision of years of training since childhood. It was like watching a master craftsman at work, every movement deliberate and flawless.

"Ten out of ten," the head evaluator announced at the end.

The auditorium erupted in polite applause. The sound was restrained, proper, but genuine. Ren found himself clapping too, genuinely impressed by the display of technical mastery.

Klein descended from the platform, and when his eyes met Ren's, something strange happened. The boy who before had looked at him with disdain now... blushed. Slightly. His pale cheeks tinged with color. And he averted his gaze quickly before hurrying toward his section, his steps just a touch too fast to be entirely dignified.

"What was that?" Min murmured, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I have no idea," Ren responded, equally confused.

More students passed through. Each one a small drama of success or failure.

One Ren knew... Jin Strahlfang (now from another school) got nine out of ten, his expression bitter as he came down. His tiger markings were more pronounced than usual, stress making them stand out against his skin.

He didn't look at anyone as he returned to his seat, jaw clenched so tight the muscles jumped.

Seiichi Galehart, Aldric's second son, achieved ten out of ten with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

His brother Seiya was there. He smiled at the audience as if he'd never doubted the outcome, and perhaps he hadn't. With his father as a secret tutor, he'd probably had every advantage.

Several minor nobles obtained mixed results, some excellent, others barely passing. Each face told a story of months of preparation, of stress and study and desperate hope.

Meanwhile in auditorium 7, the moment many had been waiting for had arrived...

"Luna Starweaver."

♢♢♢♢

The auditorium fell into silence.

It wasn't the polite quiet of people waiting their turn. It was the breathless hush of anticipation, of people watching something they knew would be significant.

All eyes turned toward the blue-haired girl who rose from her seat in the elite section. Her posture was perfect, her expression serene, mask-like in its calm. But Liora, who knew her well, could see the tension in her shoulders and the slight tightness around her eyes.

Larissa, seated near Julius and Selphira in the upper section for high command who ensured everyone followed the rules, had a small smile on her lips. It was subtle, barely there, but those who knew what to look for could see the satisfaction in it.

Mayo and Matilda, on the other side in the common benches, looked like they were holding their breath. Their hands were clasped together.

At the evaluator's table, Lady Morgain leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Luna like a predator stalking prey. There was hunger in that gaze, anticipation of watching something fail. Of being proven right.

"This is going to be interesting," Selphira murmured to Julius, her voice barely audible. Her expression gave nothing away, perfectly neutral, but her eyes were sharp.

EXAM 1: FORMAL PRESENTATION PROTOCOL

The first evaluator, an older man with a silver beard that fell to his chest, stood up. His robes were formal, bearing the emblems of the Educational Consortium. Neutral ground, theoretically. Impartial judgment.

"Miss Starweaver, present yourself formally before this court as heir of the Starweaver faction of the northern territory."

Luna took a step forward. Her movement was fluid, confident, showing none of the nervousness she must have felt. Her right hand positioned itself over her heart, the left extended slightly to one side, palm facing down. Her head inclined exactly twenty-five degrees.

Not twenty-four. Not twenty-six. Exactly twenty-five.

"Luna Starweaver, daughter of Sirius Starweaver, legitimate heir of the northern faction of Starweaver territory, guardian of the ancestral rift and the new northern wall, I present myself before this honorable court with respect and duty."

Her voice was clear, strong, carrying through the auditorium without seeming to strain. Every word articulated perfectly, the formal phrasing rolling off her tongue as if she'd been born speaking it.

Lady Morgain's frown was almost imperceptible. Almost. But Larissa, watching from above with her enhanced perception, caught it. That tiny contraction of muscles, that minute expression of displeasure.

For three months, Morgain had been teaching Luna an obsolete variation of the presentation protocol. One that had been appropriate twenty years ago but was now considered "slightly antiquated"... The position of the right hand should go to the side, not over the heart. The angle of inclination should be twenty degrees, not twenty-five.

Small differences. Subtle enough that most wouldn't notice anything wrong. Just enough to make Luna seem outdated. Out of touch with modern protocols. Like someone trying to perform aristocracy but getting it slightly wrong, marking her as someone who didn't truly belong at such high standard.

But Luna had executed the correct version.

The current one!

The modern protocol that was standard in current noble circles, not the outdated version Morgain had been drilling into her.

"Correct." The evaluator's voice carried approval. "Movements and final position acceptable. Proceed to the next exam."

'Damned brat!'

The thought screamed through Morgain's mind, barely contained behind her neutral expression. Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding together with enough force that her temples throbbed.

Luna hadn't used the one she'd been taught, but... the one Larissa had taught her in secret during their nocturnal study sessions.

In the royal section, Larissa allowed her smile to widen slightly. Just a touch. Just enough to be noticeable to those who were watching for it.

The first battle had been won.

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