There it was. The real concern.
Marigold went very still, the kind of stillness that preceded either explosion or shutdown.
We trust your magical ability, Wallace said quickly, trying to soften the blow. Your necromancy is extraordinary. But you’re making defense decisions that affect the entire campus. And you’re involved with someone whose parents are fugitive criminals working with the master.
My relationship with Elio has nothing to do with—
We need to know it doesn’t, Sprig interrupted. That’s the problem, Miss Grimley. We need to be certain your judgment isn’t compromised.
I watched Marigold’s hands clench, saw the exact moment the implication landed. They think you’re too young, too inexperienced, too emotionally involved to see that he’s playing you.
The hit was aimed directly at her competence. Her authority. Everything she’d built over weeks of flawless tactical coordination.
Time to redirect.
You’re asking the wrong question, I said.
Everyone looked at me.
I kept my voice calm, matter-of-fact. The problem isn’t whether Marigold’s judgment is compromised. It’s whether I’m trustworthy enough to have the access she gave me.
Elio… Marigold’s voice carried a warning.
I continued addressing faculty. You’re worried she can’t see manipulation because she’s too close. That’s reasonable given my family history. So let’s address it directly. I asked for access to improve surveillance integration. She granted it because combining our systems makes tactical sense. But you’re right to question whether that request was honest or strategic in the Lightford tradition.
Sprig leaned forward. Are you saying it was manipulation?
I’m saying your skepticism is justified given who raised me. I met her eyes. My parents taught me to leverage trust for tactical advantage. To use intimacy as access. To perform sincerity while pursuing influence.
I paused, letting that settle.
That’s why I’m volunteering for oversight. Not because Marigold’s judgment needs checking. Her tactical decisions have been sound. But because my presence in the system creates legitimate concern about whether I’m using her trust the way Lightfords do.
Silence.
Marigold was staring at me. I could feel her recalibrating, understanding what I was doing.
Oversight, Sprig repeated carefully. What exactly are you proposing?
Transparent documentation of every time I access Marigold’s detection network and why. Monthly faculty review of surveillance protocols. Clear boundaries showing that the integration serves tactical purposes, not personal ones. Whatever you need to verify I’m not manipulating her.
Cribley’s expression shifted with recognition that I was absorbing the institutional concern instead of defending against it.
And if your parents contact you? she asked quietly. Pressure you to step back? Offer you advantages in exchange for access to our defense network through your relationship with Miss Grimley?
The question would devastate Marigold, suggesting she was a liability, a weakness to exploit.
I took it instead.
Then I refuse them, I said simply. If they threaten her, or Keane, or Cyrus, I stand between them and my family. Not because I’m noble but because I decided where my loyalty belongs, and that choice is settled.
You consider your relationship with the other heirs more important than your family? Sprig asked.
I consider them my actual family. Built through choice, not blood. I kept my tone steady. If that creates vulnerability in your eyes, implement whatever oversight proves otherwise. But I won’t distance myself from people I trust just because my last name makes you uncomfortable.
Wallace studied me. The surveillance integration—does it actually work better combined?
Yes, I said immediately. Marigold’s necromancy detects corruption in wellsprings and living witches. My illusions identify pattern disruptions and magical deception. Together, we catch threats neither system would flag independently. That’s not romance compromising judgment. That’s tactical coordination between people who trust each other.
