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"What changed?" Professor Vayne asks.

"My partner was trying not to embarrass me."

A Medusa girl adds quietly, "I realized I ask very few questions."

Professor Vayne smiles. "Good. You've all begun."

He walks toward the center of the room one last time. "Dominion has nothing to do with making other people smaller." His voice echoes gently through the ancient chamber. "It has everything to do with becoming someone others can choose to trust." The sentence settles over us. "This class will challenge every instinct your upbringing rewarded." He looks around slowly. "You will dislike me." Several students smile. "You already do." More smiles. "Excellent. It means we're making progress." Even Rowan laughs. Professor Vayne waits. Then his expression grows serious once more. "The greatest leaders in history were not remembered because they never lost control. They were remembered because they understood when to hold it." A pause. "And when to let it go." The bell echoes faintly somewhere above us. Class is over. No one moves. Not immediately. Then Professor Vayne inclines his head. "Dismissed."

Students begin gathering their books. Conversations resume almost instantly. The room buzzes with quiet debates about leadership, manipulation and whether Rowan's questions should ever be considered educational.

Dax pushes away from the wall where the Chief Wings Officers had been observing. He catches up with Rhyven near the doors.

"So." Dax says.

"So." Rhyven repeats.

"You sat on the floor." I sense an amused tone in Dax's voice.

"I did."

"People were watching." Dax adds.

"I noticed." Rhyven nods.

They disappear into the corridor still arguing about whether sitting counts as strategy.

Nyra joins me. "I liked him." She smiles.

"Professor Vayne?"

She nods. "He teaches differently." She says. "He doesn't tell us answers."

"No." I sigh.

Cassian falls into step beside us. "Discomfort is memorable."

"So is Rowan asking strangers whether they were hugged."

Rowan appears from behind us as though summoned. "For the record he said yes."

Cassian sighs. "I don't know why that makes me feel better."

"It should."

"It absolutely shouldn't." Nyra laughs again.

The afternoon sun pours through the upper windows as we climb back toward the academic halls. The Academy feels different. Not because it changed. Because another layer has been revealed.

Professor Neris taught us that inheritance is potential. Professor Aldren taught us that history depends on perspective. The Trial taught us that trust outweighs certainty. The Place taught us that belonging is earned. Dominion taught me something quieter. Control is not measured by how firmly we hold other people. It is measured by how honestly we understand ourselves.

As we emerge into the bright central courtyard, students scatter toward libraries, training fields and afternoon lectures. Life at Varethia resumes.

Chapter Eleven

The summons arrives before dawn. Not beneath the door. Not through a bell. A strip of black parchment appears above my bed and drops directly onto my face. I wake with a blade in my hand. The parchment survives. Barely.

Across the room, Rowan screams. Not because of the summons. Because I am holding a dagger. "Where did that come from?"