“Ready, Sal?”

“Why are you asking me, child?”

“You do realise that I am older than you, right?”

“Whatever you say, child.”

Emilio shook his head fondly at the little Leviathan wrapped around his arm, shaking his head. He should have been chatting with Balsea for a few more hours yet. But a letter flew in when they were chatting. In a flowy handwriting, it wrote-

We are convening to structure an outline for our thesis and create a primary plan of research. I was hoping you could join us. It would be good for you to join today and get started since you have not been present at any of our previous sessions. Though I do believe it will not be hard for you to grasp, I do suggest participating from the beginning. It will be good for all of us. If you choose not to, however, we will proceed as we see fit.

Sincerely,

Louise Aeloron.

Translation: I want you here. Get here now or else.

It was not just a borderline threat. It was a threat. This man was just hellbent on making his time here miserable, wasn’t he? It was the last day of the fucking weekend.

He told Balsea that he had to meet the Prince for their group project. Balsea, bless their fae heart, despite not understanding the nuances of Aelorian politics, understood that Emilio was upset about the entire thing and proposed to go “drive that brat into insanity for you.”

Emilio held them back. As much as he disliked the Crown Prince, he would not wish fae wrath on anyone. He reassured the fae that he would be alright, that it was just work. It took a good few minutes to convince them. But then Balsea insisted on him taking Sal with him, saying that it would determine anyone from getting any ideas.

And as much as the two creatures seemed to love to fight on every single thing, the one thing they seemed to agree on was Emilio was a child who needed protection.

Those overprotective idiots, he thought fondly.

“Alright, remember, do not do what Balsea told you to.”

….

“Saaaaal.” He dragged it out in the scolding tone that he usually used on Jeremiah.

“I am not making any promises. If that brat tries anything, I am going to gobble him up.”

Yes. That was the instruction Balsea gave Sal. And Sal seemed to agree. Even worse, Emilio was not sure that Sal would not do it given the chance.

“Sal, do not try to swallow the Crown Prince of Aeloria. It would do no good for any of us, especially for me who reassured everyone that you are harmless.”

“I am not harmless!”

“Well, I took the responsibility to ensure that you are so please refrain from hurting anyone. If you do, it will fall on my head!”

“Tch. Fine.”

He grinned and gently rubbed the leviathan’s head as he went inside, whispering a soft “thank you” to him. Sal hissed in content before sliding back into his sleeve.

As he walked inside, he looked around to find the group he was supposed to work with.

“Florian.”

He turned around to find a boy approaching him. He had curly brown hair that reached just below his ears, swept to the side, and green eyes staring at Emilio almost indifferently. While Emilio’s eyes reminded one of the forest with sunlight peaking through on a summer day, this boy’s eyes seemed as cold as the sea.

“Hello…” He greeted, unaware of the other’s name.

“Kaines. Kaines Velito.”

That … did not sound like an Aeloran name. He seemed like a noble but Emilio did not know any House with that name.

“Hello, Velito. I assume you are with the Prince.”

“Yes. The Prince has sent me to fetch you.”

What was he, a toy?

“Thank you. Please lead the way.”

The boy nodded, the indifferent expression not changing one bit. He turned around, broad shoulders blocking out most of the view in front of him. Emilio looked around as he followed the boy. He had been meaning to visit the library but with everything going on, he hadn’t found the time.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Well, at least he was visiting the library now. Silver lining. Yay.

He sighed and followed Velito as he made a turn to the right and saw an open area with round tables across the floor. One of them was occupied by the Prince and his cohorts.

“We are here,” Velito spoke, his voice as flat as ever.

Emilio turned to look at the boy and found that he did not have the almost sycophantic look of devotion and bootlicking that most followers of the Prince had. Interesting.

“So I see. Thank you for escorting me.”

They made their way to the table together and Prince Louise, who was conversing with the dark-skinned young woman sitting beside him, turned before a look of surprise and delight came over his face. Emilio did not believe it for one second.

“Emilio! You are here! Lovely.” He stood and spread his arms as if welcoming people at an Imperial Ball. “We are delighted to have you here.”

One look at the rest of the faces on the table made it quite clear that they were, in fact, not delighted to have him here. The woman with whom the Prince had been talking until a moment ago looked at him in utter annoyance.

As the Prince made to grab his arm, Emilio stepped back and gave a small bow. “Thank you for inviting me, Your Highness.”

Please maintain an appropriate fucking distance.

Gods, this man had a way of riling him up, didn’t he? He was swearing even in his mind.

The Prince, getting the hint for once, dropped his arms.

“Come, come. Let me introduce you to the rest of the group. I believe you have already met Velito,” he gestured at the boy who brought him here. He nodded at him and the boy nodded back. “Then we have Umrao Khatun Bashr, the fourth Princess of Zahir.”

Ah, the desert Kingdom to the East. Well, East compared to Aeloria. It was actually situated towards the middle of the continent, the vast expanse of desert adjacent to Sylpharen, separating the Southern Kingdoms from the Shwadheen, the Confederation of Free Cities.

Emilio gave another bow. “Your Highness,” he repeated.

Her brows, which were furrowed in annoyance, smoothened just a bit and she hummed in response. It seemed that being respectful of her position had earned him a point.

“And you know-”

“Klevin.”

“Florian,” Hans spat back at him.

“And finally, we have Coral Feylor.”

Feylor, the Viscount House that protected the border adjacent to the Sea of Storms. The Place faced frequent Pirate attacks as well as attacks from monsters that were brave enough to come towards the land. The House of Feylor boasted incredible strength and power to navigate the Sea, often manifesting either water or fire as an element. Though it was only a Viscount House, it was one of the oldest and most powerful houses in the Kingdom, and the members of the House were raised on the strength of their magic, sea and battle prowess.

“Lady Feylor.” He nodded.

She snorted and looked away. It was not a surprise she viewed him with disdain. With how she grew up, those born without magic must seem like a worthless burden to her. It should not hurt him as much as it did, but he quickly shrugged it off and gave a small nod at them.

“Great! Let us get started, shall we?”

Emilio sighed softly and made to sit when he heard the sound of another chair being slid back.

“Here,” the Prince said as he held the open chair right beside him.

Emilio clenched his fists. This man. He was itching to just punch him in the face. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. Prince and all that.

He took a step forward and sat down on the chair, pulling it closer to the table as he did so.

“Thank you.”

The Prince sat down right beside him. “Well, we apologise but we have already chosen the topic for our thesis without you.”

“That’s alright, Your Highness. I can work with whatever you give me.”

“Louise, please,” he reminded Emilio. “And I do believe you will like this particular topic. Might be right up your alley.”

He could hear a snort of dissatisfaction from one of the people at the table … he had a very bad feeling about this.

“Oh?” He asked, keeping himself composed. “What is it?”

The Prince smiled, the curl on his lip a little too high for it to be a pleasing one. “The factors affecting a Laik’s ability to use magic.”

Emilio froze at that. He looked up at the Prince and then the others at the table, wondering if this was some sort of sick joke. From the displeased looks on most of their faces and the smirk on the Prince’s, it was not.

He felt something sickening curl in his gut. A rage the likes of which he rarely ever felt built up in him. He had to visibly take a deep breath and exhale shakily to calm himself before turning to the Prince.

“Your… Prince Louise, is there any particular reason you chose this topic?”

He was not even pretending that this was a group decision. The looks on the others’ faces told him everything he needed to know.

“Well … it was you!” He was not even denying it, the sick fucker. “Watching you made me realize that we have been quite harsh to our Laiks. They are still citizens of this Kingdom, our subjects. While we know what physical features make Laiks unable to use magic, we do not know the reasons behind it. The reason that research on this matter has not progressed is because we can rarely find a Laik. They either hide themselves their whole lives or end up passing away in … unfortunate accidents.”

They got killed. Mostly by their own damned parents.

“But we have you with us!” The man grinned, and it made bile rise up his throat. “I figured, why not try? Maybe we can find something out.”

“And what if you do not find anything?” He asked. “I have not even formed mana veins, Prince Louise. I am hardly representative of a typical Laik.”

After all, even Laiks had mana veins, just deformed and without the ability to regulate mana.

“That’s alright. We can still find out the things we need to. After all, is it not the purpose of research to look for answers and ask more questions?” The man smiled. “You are the perfect specimen, in my opinion.”

What a disgusting thing to say.

The Prince reached out toward his hand. Every inch of him revolted and it took all in him to not swat the man away. The fight or flight response made him freeze instead.

Just as the hand reached his, Sal shot out from under his sleeve and toward the Prince.

“Sal, no!”