I Copy the Authorities of the Four Calamities

Chapter 117: The Weight of the Crown


The center of the ballroom was a storm of whispers that followed Vane like a wake. As he led Isole off the polished marble, the music transitioned from the sweeping Imperial Waltz into a faster, more aggressive tempo. The biting frost left behind by the Absolute Zero had evaporated, but the social atmosphere remained freezing. Vane could feel the collective gaze of the Silver Wood elders burning into the back of his neck. It was a sharp, green-tinted resentment that felt like a physical weight. He did not turn around to acknowledge them.

He steered Isole toward a massive crystalline pillar at the edge of the hall. This was the fringe of the elite sector, a place where the shadows were deeper and the prying eyes of the lower nobility were slightly obscured by the glare of the mana-candles. Valerica and Ashe were already there, waiting in the sanctuary of the stone.

Valerica looked like a statue of silver. She was leaning against the marble with her arms crossed, her gown catching the light in sharp lines. Ashe stood beside her, nursing a second glass of dark red wine. Her red eyes were scanning the crowd with a predator's focus.

"That was quite the statement, Vane," Valerica said. Her voice was low and carried the sharp, analytical edge she used when discussing Labyrinth strategy. "Dropping to a knee in front of a Saintess is not just a gesture of respect. You essentially told the Silver Wood that they do not own their daughter's time. You declared a side in a fight you barely understand."

"I was tired of her mother's voice," Vane replied simply. He looked at Isole. The Oracle's face was still a pale shade of lavender, her fingers clutching the silk of her dress so tightly the fabric was beginning to wrinkle. "Are you holding up alright? You look like you are about to faint."

Isole let out a shaky breath and leaned her back against the cool marble. "I am fine. Truly. It is just... nobody has ever done that. In the Silver Wood, everything is about lineage. To see someone like you just ignore her authority was frightening. But it was also the first time I felt like a person instead of a defect."

'I just hope the Headmistress meant what she said earlier about protection,' Vane thought, his gaze drifting toward the Imperial Dais. 'Because if not, I just made an enemy out of a Grandmaster for the sake of a three-minute dance.'

The quiet moment was interrupted by the sound of stiff, rhythmic footsteps. Vane recognized the mana signature before the figure stepped out of the crowd.

Isaac Glacium was walking toward them. The Monarch of Zenith looked like he was marching toward his own execution. His silver hair was slightly disheveled from his mother's earlier inspections, and his face was frozen in a mask of such profound, soul-crushing embarrassment that it was almost painful to look at. He stopped three feet away from the group, staring at a specific point on the floor between Vane and Ashe.

"Can I stay here?" Isaac asked. His voice was a quiet, strained mumble.

Ashe barked out a short laugh. "The Monarch of Zenith wants to hide? What happened, Isaac? Did the Queen find another smudge on your face, or did she decide you needed a nap?"

Isaac winced, his shoulders tensing so hard they looked like they might snap. "She told me I was acting like a frozen gargoyle. She said that if I did not make friends with the people who beat me, she would personally invite the entire first-year class to the Glacial Palace for a mandatory sleepover during the winter break. She mentioned she would lead the ice-skating lessons herself."

Valerica let out a soft snort of amusement. "A sleepover at the Glacial Palace. Half the class would die of hypothermia, and the other half would die of sheer terror. I can see why you fled."

"She is serious," Isaac said, finally looking up. His pale blue eyes were wide and genuinely haunted. "She is currently cornering Duke Valandis and telling him about the time I got my head stuck in a decorative vase when I was six years old. She called it my first lesson in structural mana-fortification. I need to be somewhere she will not look for at least twenty minutes."

Vane stepped aside, creating a gap in their small circle. "Sit down, Isaac. Or stand. Just try to look like you are having a conversation with us. If you look like a statue, she will find you."

Isaac slumped against the pillar next to Vane. The five of them stood there in the shadow of the pillar, a small island of monsters in a sea of silk. Vane leaned back, watching the crowd. He realized that the four people standing with him were probably the most powerful students in the world, yet they were currently arguing over the taste of soup and the embarrassment of having a mother who cared too much.

"So," Ashe said, shifting the topic as she drained her glass. "The term ends in three days. Where is everyone heading for the winter break? I am going back to the Eastern Embassy for a week before heading to the borderlands. My brother says I have gotten soft at the academy and needs to see me bleed against some real combat mages."

"I am going back to the Sol estate," Valerica said. She looked toward the Imperial Dais with a cold, detached expression. "My father has organized a series of banquets and political meetings. Apparently, being on the Rank 1 squad makes me a very valuable social asset."

Isole looked down at her feet. "I have to return to the Silver Wood."

Isaac sighed, leaning his head back against the marble. "I am going back to the North. My father has already prepared a training regimen for me. And my mother will likely try to feed me every hour I am not fighting. It is going to be exhausting."

There was a brief silence as the four of them finished speaking. They all turned their eyes toward Vane.

"What about you, Vane?" Valerica asked. "Are you heading back to the capital? Or perhaps the outer rim?"

Vane took a slow sip of his water, staring at the golden reflection of the chandeliers in the glass. He had not really thought about it until this moment. The academy would be empty. The dorms would be cold. The villas would be silent.

"I am staying here," Vane said.

Ashe stopped swirling her wine. "Here? In the academy? For the whole month?"

"I do not have a manor to go back to, Ashe," Vane said. His voice was flat, devoid of any self-pity, but the reality of the words hung heavy in the air. "My mother passed away a long time ago. There is no one waiting for me in Oakhaven. Staying in the villa is better than going back to the slums just to sleep in a doorway."

The reaction from the group was instantaneous. He saw Isole's eyes soften with a sudden, watery shimmer. Ashe's aggressive smirk vanished, replaced by a look of awkward, uncomfortable sympathy. Even Isaac, who was usually the peak of arrogance, looked at Vane with a strange, pained expression.

The look of pity on their faces irked him. It made his skin crawl. He had spent his life being looked down upon by people with money and titles, and he did not want his friends to start doing it now just because they had homes and he didn't.

'I do not need them to feel bad for me,' Vane thought, his grip on the glass tightening. 'I have a roof over my head, food that is not rotten, and a bed that is not made of hay. Compared to Oakhaven, staying at the academy is a luxury vacation. Why are they looking at me like I am a kicked dog?'

Internally, there was a small part of him that was actually looking forward to the silence. He wanted the time to focus on his mana-core. He wanted to sit in the quiet of the villa and push against the Gate to Rank 4 without the distractions of classes or politics. He was happy with the plan, but he did not realize that his desire for solitude was born from a lifetime of having to be his own sanctuary.

"You can stay at the embassy with me, Vane," Ashe offered. She was not teasing now. She looked genuinely concerned. "The Razar family always has room for a fighter. We have a training hall that would make the academy's gym look like a playground."

"I am staying at the academy," Vane repeated, his voice firmer this time. "I have things to do. The second semester starts with the tournament, and I am not going into that as a Rank 3. I need the isolation."

Isaac looked at Vane for a long time. "You are an idiot," he said finally. "But I suppose I respect the dedication. If you are still alive when I get back, I will bring you some of that soup. Just do not tell my mother."

"I would appreciate that," Vane said, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as the conversation shifted away from his lack of a home.

'They mean well,' Vane realized, watching Valerica and Isole whisper to each other. 'But they do not understand that for a rat, the empty palace is the best place to be.'

They stood there for a few more minutes, a small circle of the most dangerous teenagers in the world, discussing the mundane details of a winter break they were all dreading in their own ways. For a brief moment, the politics of the Empire and the weight of their titles didn't matter. They were just five students hiding from a Queen and a Saintess.

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