The next morning, the Academy dining hall was a social minefield. The instant I walked in, the whispers started.
"That's her... the one who humiliated the Prince..."
"She's a Briar. I heard Archmage Alef is training her personally..."
"She's just a commoner-noble with chaotic power. She'll be expelled in a week..."
I ignored them, my "Useless Sidekick" mask of nervous confusion firmly in place. My stats made their glares feel as threatening as a mild breeze.
"Silvie! Over here!" Rosalie yelled, waving me toward our table, a beacon of cheerful orange and yellow in the tense room. "I saved you a pastry!"
I was halfway to her table when a sharp, cold voice cut through the hall.
"Lady Silvie Briar."
The hall went silent.
Marta, Amaryllis's severe personal maid from the capital, was standing by the High Table. She looked at me with open disdain.
"Lady Amaryllis requires your attendance at her table," Marta commanded. "Immediately."
It wasn't an invitation. It was a summons.
