Seraphina was already standing when Daemar entered the council office.

Papers covered the long table—schedules, funding requests, end-of-term projections. The work of keeping the Academy running didn't stop just because the world kept trying to end.

She didn't bother sitting.

"So," she said flatly, arms crossed. "Which rule is Noel breaking this time?"

Daemar closed the door behind him with deliberate calm. "None."

"That's new," Seraphina replied. "Because yesterday you personally reminded him he was not allowed to disappear again. I had him scheduled for three council reviews this week."

Daemar met her gaze. "He won't be attending."

Silence.

Then—"You're joking."

"I'm not."

Seraphina's composure cracked just enough to show real irritation. "Director, with all due respect, you don't get to pull my best asset out of the council whenever it's convenient. I already had to reorganize half our workflow because of his last absence."

"I'm aware."

"And now," she continued, voice tightening, "he's doing it again?"

Daemar nodded once. "Yes."

She let out a sharp breath, turning away. "Unbelievable. We're months away from end-of-term planning. External delegations. Inter-academy evaluations. And you're telling me the person who promised to help is vanishing?"

"There's more," Daemar said calmly.

She turned back slowly. "There always is."

"Elyra will be leaving as well."

Seraphina blinked. "…What?"

"Vice President Elyra von Estermont. Selene. Elena. Laziel. Marcus."

The room froze.

Seraphina stared at him, incredulous. "You're joking again."

"I'm not."

Her fingers dug into the edge of the table. "That's— that's nearly the entire backbone of the council's operational support!"

"And yet," Daemar replied evenly, "it's necessary."

"For what?" she snapped. "Another emergency Noel decided to shoulder alone?"

"No," Daemar said. "For something that won't wait."

Seraphina ran a hand through her hair, frustration bleeding through her usual control. "Do you have any idea how much work that leaves us with? The council is already stretched thin. And now—"

She stopped herself, exhaling slowly.

"…You're telling me this isn't optional."

Daemar's expression softened, just slightly. "It isn't."

Seraphina closed her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them again, the anger was still there—but beneath it sat something heavier.

"Fine," she said quietly. "But I'm speaking to Noel before he goes."

Daemar nodded. "I expected as much."

Seraphina didn't slam the door.

That alone said enough.

She stepped out of the council office and into the academy corridor, boots striking the marble floor with clipped precision. Her posture was straight, controlled—but the tension radiating off her was impossible to miss.

Students noticed instantly.

First-years chatting near the stairs froze mid-sentence when they saw her expression. Second-years straightened their backs a little too fast. Even a group of third-years instinctively shifted to the side, clearing her path without being asked.

"Good morning, President," someone ventured.

Seraphina didn't stop walking. "Morning," she replied curtly.

Her thoughts were anything but calm.

'Unbelievable. He promised. He actually promised he'd help this time.'

She turned a corner, cape swaying behind her, irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

'Noel Thorne. Always at the center of something that 'can't wait.' And somehow dragging half the council with him.'

A pair of students rounded the corner at a jog, laughing—until they nearly collided with her.

Seraphina stopped dead.

They did too.

"This is not a racetrack," she said sharply. "No running in the halls."

"S–Sorry, President!" they blurted in unison.

"And," she added, eyes narrowing slightly, "no spellcasting inside the corridors. If I sense mana residue again, you'll be cleaning practice yards for a week. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

They vanished in the opposite direction.

Seraphina exhaled through her nose and resumed walking, temper barely contained.

'Elyra. Selene. Elena. Marcus. Laziel. Do they think the council runs itself?'

The familiar sounds of the cafeteria reached her ears—low conversation, clinking cutlery, the hum of morning routine. She adjusted her pace, slowing just slightly as she approached the doors.

Her gaze hardened with resolve.

'Fine, Noel. If you're leaving again… you're going to look me in the eye when you tell me why.'

She pushed the cafeteria doors open.

And scanned the room.

Seraphina spotted him immediately.

Noel sat alone at a corner table, posture relaxed, a cup of coffee steaming faintly beside a glass of orange juice. No urgency. No guilt. No visible sign that he was about to blow up half the Student Council's schedule.

'Unbelievable, she thought as she approached from behind. You're really just sitting here.'

She slowed a few steps away, already rehearsing what she was going to say—every sharp, perfectly justified sentence lined up and ready.

Then Noel lifted the glass of orange juice.

Seraphina frowned.

He tilted it—

and calmly poured part of it into the coffee.

Her soul recoiled.

A chill ran straight down her spine, pure instinctive disgust.

That's— that's illegal.

Noel stirred it once, thoughtfully, then took a sip.

Seraphina stared, frozen in silent horror.

'I manage budgets. I manage people. I manage crises. I was not prepared to manage this.'

Noel paused mid-sip.

He felt it then—the unmistakable pressure of someone staring holes into his back.

Slowly, he turned.

Their eyes met.

Instantly, cold sweat broke across his neck.

"…Ah."

Seraphina stood behind him, arms crossed, expression perfectly still. The kind of still that meant someone was about three seconds away from detonating.

Noel stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor.

"In what way," he asked carefully, "may I assist the President of the Student Council—"

He straightened and bowed, sharp and proper.

"—and Imperial Princess of Valor?"

Seraphina's gaze flicked briefly to the cup. The mixed drink. Back to him.

"…Explain," she said.

Noel blinked. "The beverage, or—"

"Do not test me."

"…Right. Not the beverage."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice just enough to keep the conversation private.

"You promised me," she said quietly, "that you would help this semester. And now Daemar tells me you're leaving again."

Noel met her eyes, calm but serious.

"Yes."

Her jaw tightened. "And you didn't think to tell me yourself?"

"I was going to," he replied honestly. "Right after this."

Seraphina looked at the table. The untouched food. The way he'd been waiting.

Her irritation didn't vanish—but it shifted.

"…Then talk," she said. "Now."

Noel gestured to the empty chair across from him.

"Please," he said calmly. "Have a seat, Princess—"

Seraphina's eyes narrowed instantly.

"Don't call me that," she cut in. "You never do. It's Seraphina. Keep it that way."

Noel gave a small nod. "Seraphina."

She sat—but stiffly, arms still crossed, gaze locked onto him.

"Well?" she said. "Start talking."

Noel didn't waste time.

"Elarith is in danger," he said. "The entire continent."

That made her still.

"We discovered something in the Holy Capital. A shard. It originates from the Northern Isles." He met her gaze steadily. "That's where we have to go."

Seraphina exhaled slowly, the pieces clicking into place. "So it's that serious."

"Yes."

She opened her mouth to respond—

—but Noel spoke again, quieter, firmer.

"And before you say it— I'm sorry for taking the others with me."

Her eyes flicked sharply to his.

"It's necessary," he continued. "They've proven it more than once. This isn't something one person handles alone."

Seraphina studied him for a long moment, searching for hesitation.

She didn't find any.

"…And me?" she asked finally.

Noel shook his head once. "You can't come."

Her expression hardened.

"Not because I think I could stop you," he added immediately. "But because your father would. And he'd be right."

He leaned forward slightly.

"The Imperial Princess. The future Queen of Valor. You can't be sent into something this dangerous—not without destabilizing the entire continent if something went wrong."

Silence stretched between them.

Seraphina's fingers tightened against her arm.

Seraphina listened without interrupting, posture straight, expression composed.

"So," she said after a brief pause, "you're entrusting the academy and the council to me while you handle the problem directly."

"Yes," Noel replied. "You're the only one I trust to do it properly."

She studied him for a moment, sharp eyes weighing intent rather than emotion.

"…That's consistent with you," she said finally. "You take the dangerous part. You leave stability to others."

Noel gave a small, apologetic smile. "Someone has to."

Seraphina exhaled once, controlled.

"Very well," she said. "I'll keep the council functional. I'll cover for the absences. And I'll make sure nothing collapses while you all are gone."

Then she added, firmly—but without heat:

"But don't mistake this for approval born of comfort. I understand the necessity. That's all."

Noel nodded. "That's all I expected."

She stood, already shifting back into her role.

"And Noel," Seraphina said, stopping just before turning away, "come back alive with all the others. I don't like recalculating leadership structures mid-semester."

He allowed himself a faint smile. "I'll do my best."

Seraphina adjusted her coat, already back in full command of herself.

"Then that's settled," she said. "I'll take care of the council matters. You focus on not making the situation worse than it already is."

Noel stood as well. "Thank you, Seraphina."

She gave him a brief nod. "Don't thank me. Just do what you always do."

She turned to leave, then paused for half a second.

"And Noel."

He looked up.

"Next time you plan to vanish for weeks," she said calmly, "inform me before the Director does."

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

Seraphina walked away, her steps measured, already thinking ten moves ahead.

Noel watched her go, then exhaled slowly.

"Alright," he muttered. "Time to prepare."

A ripple of shadow shifted at his feet.

Noir slipped out of it, landing lightly on the table in her small wolf-pup form, tail flicking.

'You survived, Dad.'

Noel snorted quietly. "Barely. I wasn't expecting her to hunt me down that fast."

Noir tilted her head, amused. 'She's efficient. I like her.'

He shook his head, reaching down to scratch behind her ears.

"Let's get moving," he said. "We've got work to do."

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