"Too much?" Jean asked, suppressing a grin.

Margaret blinked rapidly, her voice thin. "A little."

"I see," Jean said with sympathy, her tone soft as she stepped away from the board. "Maybe I'm going too fast. I've only had to explain the more complex bits to a few people, who were all incredibly talented. Let me try a different approach." She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully before an innocent smile bloomed on her lips as if what she had said couldn't be taken as a dig. "Let's take Oliver, for example."

At the mention of his name, both Lamberta and Margaret sat up. Jean didn't miss the way their postures stiffened. His mere mention was enough to rattle them. She held back a chuckle, feigning obliviousness.

"Oliver's magic is deeply connected to the Light," Jean explained, her tone casually admiring. "Sir Leonard himself picked him for a reason. That's why he can use pure casting so effortlessly, even when he's just doing something simple like, say, enhancing a blade with holy energy. It's second nature to him. He doesn't even think about it—he just channels the mana through an idealized version of the spell, aided by his profound understanding of his element. It's honestly a bit demotivating how easy he makes it seem."

Margaret's face flushed slightly, and Lamberta crossed her arms, a scowl forming on her lips.

Jean continued, her voice full of innocent enthusiasm. "It's really impressive how talented he is. I mean, to be able to weave Light magic with such precision at his age... he's just so dedicated, isn't he? I can only imagine how much practice he must put in every day. And his focus—oh, it's admirable. He's so in tune with his element."

She emphasized each compliment with just the right amount of awe, watching with amusement as both girls squirmed in their seats. Margaret's face grew redder by the second, and Lamberta's scowl deepened, though she tried to hide her reaction behind a mask of indifference.

"Oh, and have you seen how he moves when he's casting?" Jean added, her expression perfectly innocent. "It's so fluid. There's a grace to it—like he was born to cast magic. I've never seen anyone handle their mana with such confidence. I haven't yet deciphered how much that helps, but after observing him for so long, I'm quite sure it's a big component."

Margaret's hand clenched around her quill, and Lamberta looked moments away from snapping.

Jean bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "But, of course, it's only natural for someone like Oliver. He's exceptional. Really, the best of his generation, wouldn't you agree?"

Margaret let out a strained laugh, her voice tight. "I suppose... yes."

"And Lamberta?" Jean asked, tilting her head. "What do you think?"

Lamberta gritted her teeth, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "He's... fine."

"Just fine?" Jean blinked, feigning surprise. "Oh, I thought you admired him more than that. Well, I suppose not everyone has the same tastes."

Lamberta opened her mouth to retort, but Jean cut her off, turning back to the blackboard with a satisfied smile. "Well, in any case, Oliver is a perfect example of how pure casting works when you understand the principles deeply. But if you aren't a natural prodigy or don't get the axiomatic model, I suppose it would be a bit harder to grasp."

She glanced over her shoulder, her tone light and teasing. "But don't worry, you'll get there eventually. Maybe Oliver can help you after he comes back. It might take a while, though."

Both girls stared daggers at her, their frustration palpable, but Jean's placid smile never wavered.

After all, there was nothing wrong with a little innocent fun.

----------------------------------------

Sometimes, Jean would have loved to be a fly on the wall to listen in on interesting conversations.

She could have technically used divination magic to follow the two girls, but that felt like an overreach. Yes, she enjoyed toying with and teasing them, but that didn't mean she should outright abuse her powers. Certainly not to make their lives miserable.

She was supposed to be the adult in the room, after all.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

With her entertainment for the day over, Jean sighed and leaned back in her chair, wondering whether she'd have to keep her next lesson to only theory to maintain her veil of innocence or if she could afford to push the two a little more.

She still needed to teach them. Her lessons were part of a diplomatic effort to pull the Brander Republic closer to them.

They aren't the most important part of the treaty, but they are a symbol of the whole relationship. Lamberta must soon learn something beyond the basics.

Jean didn't doubt that Leonard and Amelia had placed several contingencies should her lessons not produce the desired result. Their relationship with Archmage Etinus was excellent, and the man had gone so far as to describe himself as a personal ally of the Revolution before leaving for the West.

Still, she'd never be able to forgive herself if she messed up because of her little games.

Speaking of games, here comes the queen.

Hobbling steps echoed down the hallway through the open door. Even without her innumerable monitoring spells placed all over the Academy complex, Jean would have recognized the cadence.

It was the only person who knew exactly what kind of wicked witch she was.

"Have you had your fun, then?"

Against any sense of preservation she might have, Jean allowed her annoyed scowl to shine through.

"Oh, don't give me that, girl. Do you think this is the first bit of catfighting among teenagers I have dealt with? Bah, nothing new under the sun." Lia the alchemist was the most enigmatic figure in the War Council. More so even than the Minister of Truth, as she liked to address him privately. Vicar Damien was an intelligent and cunning man who thought outside of the box and always had plans upon plans, but he wasn't the first of his kind she had to deal with. Certainly one of the best and the most successful of the lot if she ignored the Prime Minister, but while he could be dangerous, he also was a true believer.

Anything and everything for the Revolution, to be sure, but while he wouldn't hesitate to incite a furious mob to burn an innocent alive if it meant Leonard would have an easier time conquering them, he would never, ever touch any of the people closest to the Grand Marshal, no matter what they did, unless they acted treasonously.

On the other hand, the old hobgoblin was much more difficult to read. Yes, she was an essential cog in the Revolution's logistics, and yes, without her aid in stabilizing Lamprey Port, things might have been different. But she also never spoke directly of her aims and had an uncanny ability to see through any bullshit.

"They are far too focused on boys. I'm just teasing them." Jean defended herself, not sounding particularly invested. She had already tried to convince Lia that she was genuinely clueless and had been entirely unsuccessful. She wouldn't waste words on it now.

Lia grunted as she settled into the chair across from Jean, her cane resting against the side of the desk. Her sharp, wrinkled eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and reproach. "Oh, I'm not saying you shouldn't have your fun. A little hazing never hurt anyone, especially not those two. But, dear, if you keep making a hobby out of it, you'll end up like Amelia."

Jean rolled her eyes. "I love Amelia, but one is more than enough."

"Light help us all if she produces spawn," Lia smirked, rasping as she shifted her weight in the chair. "You've got a quick mind. Use it for something better than taunting lovesick girls."

Jean gave a half-hearted shrug, leaning back in her chair and stretching her legs. "I need my distractions, and they like Oliver more than they want to admit. It's harmless."

"For now," Lia said, her smirk fading. "But I didn't hobble all the way over here to lecture you on your extracurricular activities."

Jean raised an eyebrow, curiosity replacing her mild annoyance. "Oh? Then what brings you to my doorstep?"

Lia's eyes darkened, and she glanced around. Jean waved her off. "The room is more secure than the Ministerial Council Chamber in Mellassoria. Go ahead."

"Very well. It's about that noble you had arrested."

"What about him?" Jean asked, suddenly alert. She had a sinking feeling.

"He's gone."

Jean shot out of her chair so fast it nearly toppled over. "Gone? How? Why wasn't I informed the moment it happened?"

Lia gave her a long, deliberate look, her silence more accusatory than any words could have been.

Jean clenched her jaw, biting back the first insult that sprang to mind. She forced herself to take a breath, then slowly sat back down, her mind whirring. "You didn't tell me immediately because this is part of something bigger. You're using him, and you knew that I would have looked for him and probably found him before he did whatever you wanted him to do."

Lia nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Very good. Yes, your power and efficiency are very useful at times, but there are eyes on you. It would have been too suspicious if you had known about his disappearance and not looked for him."

"Don't patronize me," Jean muttered, crossing her arms. "So, you've let him run free to see where he'll go. To trace his connections?"

"Exactly," Lia said, tapping a finger on the arm of her chair. "We've had eyes on him since the moment he slipped out. He thinks he's clever, but our people are already closing in on his little network."

Jean let out a frustrated huff. "I would've appreciated being in on this sooner. It's my operation, after all."

Lia's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Well, it wasn't exactly your operation once it became a citywide issue. But rejoice, you'll get your hands dirty soon enough. We've finally gathered enough information to start rounding them up. The abscess that has plagued Treon for so long is about to be excised."

Despite her disgust at the metaphor and irritation at being kept out of the loop while being a fully-fledged Council member, Jean couldn't mask the satisfaction curling at the edges of her thoughts. "So you're saying I get to deal the final blow?"

"Exactly," Lia said, her grin widening. "I thought that would cheer you up. Gerard was ready to march out in force, but I think you should be the one to bring the hammer down."

Jean leaned back, a spark of excitement flickering in her chest. "I suppose this means I owe you one. I'll certainly enjoy this. My control over the Tower is complete, and they haven't tried anything to throw me off yet."

Lia's grin turned predatory. "We're moving on to the next stage tomorrow morning. It's time to tighten our grip on Treon and its surroundings. The nobles may think they still hold power since so many of them have only been stripped of their rank and wealth, but they'll see just how deep the Revolution's reach goes once we're done."

Jean couldn't hide her excitement any longer. Her fingers twitched with the anticipation of casting spells for more than just academic purposes. "Well, then. What's the next step?"

"First," Lia said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "we have found the location of their communication orb. It's the last thread connecting them to the old kingdom. Once that's severed, they're isolated. And after that, I'm sure you know what comes next. Just make sure to leave a few intact enough to be interrogated."

Jean's eyes gleamed. "I will endeavor not to break too many."