The last class of the day had a way of making even the strongest students feel as though the academy itself had tightened a hand around their throats.
Tactical Espionage was not loud the way Knight Combat could be. It did not carry the heat, impact, or open violence of Fire Magic, nor the structured discipline of weapon drills where every bruise at least came from something a student could see. It was quieter than that. Worse in some ways.
The room Lady Seraphina Vale used that afternoon was neither a normal classroom nor a full training hall, but something unpleasantly between the two: a wide chamber with black stone floors, tiered desks pushed toward the walls, and a central open space marked by faint silver lines that formed circles, corridors, and blind spots across the floor.
