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Eventually, the first examiner closes his file.

"Blood Echo demonstrates unusually high informational depth." My stomach tightens. "Control remains developing." Fair. "Judgment..." A pause. Why must Councillors always pause? "Exceed expected first-year standard." Something warm opens inside my chest. I refuse to look at my father. Not yet. "Physical recovery remains an area for improvement." There it is. Fine. "Overall assessment..." The silver-haired Councillor looks directly at me. "Exceptional."

I don't breathe. Not immediately. Exceptional. Not adequate. Not promising. Exceptional. Professor Vayne inclines his head once. Professor Neris smiles. Actually smiles. Small. Proud. The Headmaster simply looks satisfied. My father—Nothing. Of course.

And for one horrible second the old disappointment tries to return. Everyone else can think I'm good. If he doesn't— No. I stop the thought. Not today.

Professor Vayne said judgment. Rhyven said what happens when you pass. I know what I did. I know how hard I worked. I know who I was when I arrived here. And who I am now. My father's face doesn't get to erase that. Not anymore.

"Thank you." I say. And I mean it. Not because they gave me the result. Because I earned it.

The evaluation is formally concluded. The Council examiners leave first. The Headmaster follows. Professor Vayne begins collecting the samples.

Neris catches my hand briefly as she passes. "Well done." Two words. Warm. Simple.

"Thank you." Then she's gone.

I reach the door.

"Eirea." I stop. My father. Not Miss Vaelith. Eirea. I turn. We're nearly alone now. Professor Vayne remains at the far table, very deliberately pretending not to listen. My father walks toward me. His eyes move once toward the third blood sample. The one I refused. "You stopped."

I prepare myself. "Yes."

He looks at me. "Why?"

The question sounds different coming from him. Not evaluation. Something else.

"I didn't need to enter."

He nods once. "And when they ordered you?"

"I still didn't need to." Another pause. I wait for the correction. The warning. Good, but. Better, however.

Something.

"Good." That's all. Just...Good. I stare. He notices. "Something wrong?"

"No." My voice comes out smaller than I want. "No, Father." The word feels right this time. Not Councillor. Father.

He turns toward the door. Then stops beside me. "Power is easiest to recognize when used." His gaze remains ahead. "Character is usually revealed when it isn't."

My throat tightens. I don't trust myself to answer. So I don't. He leaves. No criticism. No correction. No final warning. He lets the praise remain intact. For once I do too. Professor Vayne clears his throat behind me. I turn. He's holding the blood samples.

"You're staring." He says.

"My father just complimented me."

"Tragic."

I laugh. A real one.

Professor Vayne's expression softens. "Go."

"You're all obsessed with ordering me out of rooms."

"Because you linger."

"Fair." I reach the door.