The written exams were brutal in their own way.
Combat department students only had twenty percent of their final grade determined by written work, the rest was all practical assessments, sparring matches, and physical demonstrations. But that twenty percent could still make or break your ranking, especially for someone like me who was already teetering on the edge of flunking out.
I'd spent three days hunched over examination papers, answering questions about military strategy, mana theory, historical battles, and combat medicine. My hand cramped from writing, and by the third day my eyes were crossing from reading dense theoretical texts.
But it was finally over.
The last exam finished at noon, and the entire Academy seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief. Students poured out of examination halls, some celebrating, others groaning about questions they'd botched. The instructors had announced a one-week interval before results would be posted, time for them to mark everything and for students to... well, do whatever they wanted, I supposed.
Most would use the time to relax before the holiday break. Some would cram in extra training to address their weaknesses. Others would head into the capital for shopping and entertainment.
I decided to use the first day productively: packing.
My room in Stone Dorm wasn't exactly spacious, but I'd accumulated more possessions than I'd started with. Books borrowed from the library (officially checked out, unlike my first few months when I'd just stolen them). Training clothes that actually fit now that Magnus had dragged me to a proper tailor. A growing collection of candy-making supplies that I'd need to hide or move before leaving for break.
"Do I really need to pack?" the demon complained from her spot on the bed. She was in her ten-year-old form today, watching me fold clothes with obvious boredom. "Can't we just leave everything here?"
"Some of us don't want to spend the last day of break frantically shoving things into bags," I replied, carefully wrapping the experimental lollipops in cloth. "Besides, you'll want your candy stash with you."
"That's true." She perked up immediately. "We're bringing all of it, right?"
"Within reason."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means you can't bring ten kilograms of sugar on a three-day journey home."
She pouted but didn't argue further.
Maya floated through the wall, literally through it, which still made me flinch sometimes and hovered near the window. "Are you definitely going home for break?"
"Probably," I said. "My father would have a lot of questions if I didn't show up. And Clara might actually kill me if I skip visiting."
If she even got my letters, a worried voice whispered in the back of my mind. Still no response to either of the letters I'd sent. That wasn't like Clara at all.
"Well, don't forget about me while you're gone," Maya said, trying for a light tone but not quite managing it.
I looked up at her translucent form, guilt twisting in my stomach. She'd be stuck here for the entire two-week break, alone, while the Academy emptied out. No students to observe, no activity to watch, just... emptiness.
"I won't forget," I promised. "And we'll figure out that binding spell Asura mentioned. Find an item that mattered to you, transfer your anchor. Then you can come with us."
"Maybe." But she didn't sound convinced.
I finished packing the essentials, clothes, toiletries, a few books and left the bag open for anything else I'd need later in the week. No point sealing it up yet.
"I'm going to see Magnus," I announced. "You two behave."
"We're not children," Asura said indignantly.
"You look ten years old and only consume of sugar. Those are very well defined characteristics of a child."
"...Okay, fair point."
Magnus's room in Pearl Dorm was significantly nicer than mine. Larger, better furnished, with actual heating that didn't involve huddling under thin blankets. When he opened the door, he was still in his examination clothes, formal Pearl Dorm uniform, though the top few buttons were undone and his hair was disheveled.
"Aldric! Thank the gods, someone sane." He practically dragged me inside. "I've been going insane reviewing my exam answers. Did you get question forty-seven about the Cavalry formation modifications during the Second Border War?"
"The one about terrain adaptation?"
"Yes! I said they modified it for mountain passes, but now I think it was actually for marshland."
"It think it was mountains," I assured him. "The marshland modifications were developed twenty years later."
Magnus sagged with relief. "Oh thank god. I was about to have a breakdown."
We spent the next hour like that comparing exam answers, reassuring each other about questions we'd second-guessed, complaining about the theoretical strategy section that had been unnecessarily dense. It was comfortable, easy conversation. The kind of casual friendship I'd never really had as Kenji, and had lost as Aldric after my mother died.
"So what's your plan for the week?" Magnus asked eventually, sprawled on his bed while I occupied his desk chair.
"Honestly? Nothing much. Pack, maybe train a bit, stay out of trouble."
"That's depressingly boring."
"Well, it's not like I have a lot of options." I shrugged. "Most people are going into the capital for shopping or entertainment, but I don't really have anyone to go with."
"What about Sera? I know you two have been hanging out."
"She's probably busy with Student Council stuff. Final reports before break, handover preparations for when the fourth-years graduate." I'd asked her yesterday if she wanted to grab lunch sometime this week, and she'd apologetically shown me her schedule completely packed."
"Good." He sat up, stretching. "Well, if you get bored and want to help me perfect a new candy flavor, you know where to find me. I'm thinking about trying mana infusion, but it'll kinda taste like mint."
"Mint lollipops?"
"Why not? Refreshing, unusual, probably expensive to make but that's a problem for later."
I smiled. "I'll keep it in mind."
We talked for a while longer about nothing in particular Magnus's family expectations, my dread about returning home, whether the Academy food was actually getting worse or if we were just getting tired of it. Normal things.
When I finally left his room, the sun was starting to sink toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
Back in my room, Asura was waiting with an impatient expression.
"Finally," she said. "I thought you'd never come back. We need to talk to Adelaide."
"Adelaide Hartbrook?" I'd been putting that off, honestly. The idea of approaching a fourth-year duke's daughter about business made my stomach churn. "Can't it wait?"
"No, it can't." Asura hopped off the bed, hands on her hips in a surprisingly authoritative pose for someone who looked ten. "You want to sell the sweets, right? We need someone with business expertise. Sera said Adelaide was perfect. So go talk to her."
"Now?"
"Yes, now! It's the break week, she'll have time to actually listen instead of being busy with classes and assignments."
She had a point. And the longer I put it off, the more nervous I'd get.
"Fine," I sighed. "But if this goes badly, I'm blaming you."
"When has my advice ever been wrong?"
I gave her a flat look, although I couldn't think of once her advice was wrong.
Finding Adelaide wasn't difficult. A quick check with some fourth-years loitering in the common area revealed that she was in the main library apparently she practically lived there during exam weeks.
I found her in a corner alcove on the third floor, surrounded by stacks of books and papers. At first glance, I almost didn't recognize her.
Two years had changed Adelaide Hartbrook significantly.
She'd been sixteen the last time I'd seen her at that banquet, intelligent, sharp-eyed, with an air of someone who saw through social niceties to the calculations beneath. Now, at eighteen, she'd grown into that sharp intelligence. Her dark hair was pulled back in a practical braid, and her green eyes were focused intently on whatever she was writing.
But what caught my attention, and immediately made me feel awkward was how much she'd physically matured. Her figure had filled out considerably, and her Pearl Dorm uniform fit in a way that made me almost gasp for air, her boobs were in one word...."Immaculate" It was practically impossible for someone to mature this much in 2 years.
I shook off the observation. That wasn't why I was here.
I approached her desk and cleared my throat. "Excuse me, Miss Hartbrook?"
She looked up, expression mildly annoyed at being interrupted. Her eyes swept over me dismissively, just another underclassman bothering her.
Then she paused. Looked again. Her eyes narrowed.
"Do I know you?"
"Aldric Ashford," I said. "We met briefly about two years ago at a banquet."
Recognition flashed across her face, followed by surprise. "Aldric Ashford? Son of Duke Ashford?" She set down her quill, studying me with renewed interest. "You've grown a few inches since we last met. Last I heard you were... well, struggling at the Academy."
"That's a polite way to put it," I said dryly. "But yes, things have improved recently."
"So I've heard. Second place in the first-year combat assessment." She gestured to the chair across from her. "What brings you to me, Lord Ashford?"
The formality felt wrong, but I sat anyway. "I have a business venture I thought might interest you. Sera mentioned you were looking for practical projects."
Adelaide's expression shifted to cautious interest. "Go on."
I pulled out one of the lollipops from my pocket, a strawberry-flavored one that Magnus had perfected last week. The crystal-clear candy caught the library's lamplight, deep red and flawless.
"Try this," I said, offering it to her.
She eyed it suspiciously. "What is it?"
"A new type of candy. Just try it."
Adelaide took the wrapped candy, turning it over in her hands. She looked at me, and I didn't realize it, but my expression had shifted into something almost childlike, eager anticipation waiting for her reaction, like a kid showing off a drawing to a parent.
Something in her expression softened slightly. She unwrapped the lollipop and gave it an experimental lick.
Her eyes widened.
She licked it again, more deliberately this time. Then she put the whole thing in her mouth, and her expression transformed into something between surprise and delight.
"This is..." She pulled it out to examine it again. "This is incredible. The flavor is intense but not overwhelming. The texture is perfect, hard but not teeth-breaking. And it lasts." She looked at me with sharp, calculating eyes. "Who made this?"
"A friend and I developed it together. He handles the technical alchemy, I provide funding and ideas."
Unknowingly to me, she made a mental note when I said he "So he's a male friend, how many male friends does he have."
"How much does it cost to produce?"
"Less than a copper piece per unit if we scale up production."
Adelaide's eyes lit up with the unmistakable gleam of someone seeing profit potential. "And you're selling them for?"
"That's what I wanted to discuss with you. We need someone with business expertise to help us market and distribute them properly."
She stood up immediately, gathering her papers with swift efficiency. "Not here. We need privacy for this conversation." She pulled out a small card and handed it to me. "Meet me at this address in thirty minutes. It's a café I own in the capital."
"You own a café?"
"I own three, actually. Plus a bookshop and a textile import business." She smiled, and it was sharp and businesslike. "Thirty minutes, Lord Ashford. Don't be late."
The café was tucked into a quieter district of Altiligo's capital, away from the main shopping areas where Academy students usually congregated. It was modest from the outside, a two-story building with warm light spilling from the windows and a simple sign that read "The Silver Leaf."
Inside was surprisingly cozy. Dark wood furniture, bookshelves lining one wall, the smell of coffee and fresh pastries. A handful of customers sat scattered throughout, reading or talking in low voices.
Adelaide was already there, seated at a corner table with a pot of tea. She'd changed from her Academy uniform into a practical dark dress business attire.
"You're actually early," she noted approvingly as I sat down. "I like that."
A server brought another cup without being asked, and Adelaide poured tea for both of us with practiced efficiency.
"So," she said, all business now. "Let's talk about your candy . You said you can produce them for less than a copper piece each?"
"Yes. Magnus has perfected the formula and process."
"What flavors do you have?"
"Currently? Strawberry, lemon, and a basic sugar. My friend is working on mint and a few others."
"Production capacity?"
"Limited right now. We've been making small batches in Magnus's dorm. With proper equipment and space, we could scale up significantly."
Adelaide nodded, making mental notes. "Here's what I'm thinking. This product has massive potential. The nobles at the Academy alone would pay premium prices for something this novel and high-quality." She leaned forward. "I want exclusive distribution rights. You supply to me and only me. I'll handle all marketing, distribution, and sales. In exchange, I'll pay you." she paused, calculating, "...one hundred and fifty gold pieces per shipment of one hundred lollipops."
"What?!" Asura's voice exploded in my mind. "That's insane money! Take it!"
But something about the offer made me uncomfortable. I thought about Kenji's mother, working herself to exhaustion but never having money for anything beyond survival. Never being able to afford simple pleasures like candy.
"No," I said.
Adelaide's eyebrow rose. "No?"
"I appreciate the offer, but I can't accept exclusive distribution rights."
"Why not? Do you have any idea how much money you'd make?"
"It's not about the money." I set down my teacup carefully. "Well, it is, but not like that. The whole point of making these lollipops was to create something affordable. Something even commoners with a few copper pieces could enjoy."
Adelaide's expression shifted to confusion. "You want to sell to commoners?"
"Yes."
"That's..." She shook her head. "That's leaving enormous profit on the table. If you sold these exclusively to nobles at premium prices, five silver pieces each, maybe more, you'd be rich within a year."
"But commoners would never be able to afford them."
"So?" Adelaide's tone wasn't cruel, just genuinely confused. "Aldric, I don't believe in noble supremacy any more than you do, but this is business. You have a superior product. You should maximize your profit."
"Even if it means only the rich can enjoy it?"
"Yes!" She leaned forward, intensity building in her voice. "You're talking about wasting potential. Artificial scarcity drives up value. If you flood the market with cheap candy, nobles won't see it as special anymore. The mystique is gone. But if you make it exclusive, rare, something people have to seek out?" Her eyes glinted. "That's how you build a luxury brand."
"She has a point," Asura admitted reluctantly in my mind. "From a pure business perspective..."
"I don't care about pure business perspective," I shot back mentally.
Out loud, I said, "I understand your reasoning. But my goal isn't to build a luxury brand. It's to create something that brings people a little bit of happiness, regardless of how much money they have."
"That's noble of you," Adelaide said, and her tone made it clear she didn't mean it as a compliment. "But it's also naive. Do you know how many business ventures fail because people prioritize idealism over profit?"
"Do you know how many nobles hoard wealth and resources while people starve in the streets?"
"That's completely different..."
"Is it?" I met her gaze steadily. "You just said you don't believe in noble supremacy. But creating artificial scarcity, making something only the wealthy can afford when it could be accessible to everyone, isn't that just another form of the same thing?"
Adelaide sat back, arms crossed. "You're conflating economic strategy with social oppression."
"And you're justifying exclusion because it's profitable."
The silence that followed was tense. Other café patrons were starting to glance our way.
Finally, Adelaide sighed. "You're more intelligent than I gave you credit for. And more stubborn."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't entirely meant as one." She took a long sip of her tea, thinking. "Look, I see your point about accessibility. I do. But I also see the business reality. If you sell these too cheap, nobles will see them as 'commoner candy' and won't touch them. If you sell them too expensive, commoners can't afford them. There's a balance."
"Then help me find that balance," I said. "Don't just try to maximize profit at the expense of accessibility."
"You're asking me to fundamentally change my business approach."
"I'm asking you to consider that some things are worth more than gold."
Adelaide laughed short and sharp. "Spoken like someone who's never actually needed money."
The words stung because they were partially true. As Aldric, I'd grown up with wealth and privilege. But incase you have forgotten, Kenji... was BROKE
"You're right," I said quietly. "I've had privilege. But I've also known what it's like to watch someone work themselves to death and still not have enough for basic comforts. I've seen what it does to people when everything good is always out of reach."
She nodded slowly. "Alright.... Here's what I propose. We table this discussion for now. Both of us think about what the other said and come back with a middle ground. A way to make this profitable enough to be sustainable while still accessible enough to match your ideals." She extended her hand. "Deal?"
I shook it. "Deal."
"Good." Adelaide stood, all business again. "Meet me here again in three days. Same time. And Aldric?" She smiled, and this time it seemed almost genuine. "I respect what you're trying to do. Even if I think you're being idealistic to the point of foolishness."
"And I respect your business acumen," I replied. "Even if I think you're being mercenary to the point of callousness."
She laughed, a real laugh this time. "This is going to be an interesting partnership if it comes to be. See you in three days."
I returned to the Academy as evening settled over the capital. The walk back gave me time to process the conversation with Adelaide, the clash of principles, the genuine disagreement, the grudging mutual respect that had emerged by the end.
When I entered my room, Asura was pacing back and forth in her ten-year-old form, and Maya was floating anxiously by the window.
"So?" Asura demanded immediately. "What happened? Did she agree? Are we rich?"
"She offered exclusive distribution for one hundred fifty gold per shipment of lollipops."
"WHAT?!" Asura's eyes went wide. "And you said?"
"I said no."
The demon stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "You said no. To one hundred fifty gold. Per shipment."
"Yes."
"ARE YOU INSANE?!"
I explained the conversation, Adelaide's offer, my counter-philosophy, the argument about accessibility versus profit, our agreement to reconvene with a middle ground.
By the end, Asura was slumped on the bed, head in her hands. "You turned down life-changing money because of principles."
"Yes."
"I'm bound to an idiot."
"A principled idiot," Maya corrected, and she was smiling. "I think you did the right thing, Aldric. Maya would have liked that, she always said nobles forgot that commoners were people too."
The affirmation helped, but I couldn't shake a lingering doubt. Was I being idealistic to the point of foolishness, like Adelaide said? Was there a way to do good while also being practical?
"Three days," I said aloud. "We have three days to figure out a compromise."
"Well," Asura sighed dramatically, "I guess we're not getting rich this week. Maybe next week."
Despite everything, I smiled.
At least I'd stood by what I believed in.
That had to count for something.