Serene's POV:
I watched his back as he walked away, his tray balanced casually in one hand.
He didn't look back. Not even a glance over his shoulder to check if I was stunned, impressed, or ordering someone to throw a fireball at his head. He just dumped his tray at the collection station and strolled out of the cafeteria like he hadn't just offered to rig the most heavily contested election in the academy's history.
'Be the eclipse,' I repeated in my head.
I picked up my silver fork and methodically stabbed a piece of roasted carrot.
'What a completely dramatic, edgy thing to say. Did he practice that in the mirror this morning?'
Outwardly, my expression remained perfectly Expressionless. The "Flame Empress" mask, as the whispering idiots in the hallways liked to call it. I kept my back ramrod straight, my chin tilted at the exact angle my etiquette tutors had drilled into me, and my emerald eyes narrowed into a glare that suggested I was currently calculating the optimal temperature to incinerate a human body.
Inwardly, though? My brain was doing backflips trying to process what had just happened.
Rias von Leonhart. The punchline of the first-year class. The guy whose mana pool was so shallow you could drown a gnat in it. Up until twenty-four hours ago, his only defining trait was that he was inexplicably engaged to Viola Valeris, a girl who clearly spent ninety percent of her waking hours wishing she wasn't.
And then, out of nowhere, he publicly humiliated Gareth Thorne—a top-ten meathead—without even breaking a sweat. And now he was sitting at my table, offering to hand me the presidency on a silver platter in exchange for… library access?
"What a clown," Trent scoffed from my right. Trent was the son of a Viscount, a boy who thought agreeing with me loudly was a substitute for actual political strategy. "Did you hear him? 'I can guarantee you the presidency.' The guy wins one spar and thinks he's a mastermind."
Lira, sitting across from Trent, let out a nervous little laugh. "He is acting weirdly arrogant. Especially for someone who just got dumped."
My fork paused halfway to my mouth.
Dumped.
The word hung in the air, clanging loudly against the gears turning in my head.
Wait.
I lowered the fork slowly back onto the porcelain plate.
'The rumors,' I thought, my eyes widening a fraction of a millimeter. 'The rumors from the few days ago. Viola broke the engagement. She left him.'
And who was Viola currently sitting with, laughing like she didn't have a care in the world?
I shifted my gaze across the cafeteria. There, at the center table bathed in the sunlight pouring from the skylight, sat the golden boy himself. Aurelius de Solaria. And right beside him, leaning in close, was Viola.
Suddenly, Rias's entire villainous monologue clicked into place with crystal-clear, utterly pathetic clarity.
'Aurelius… he's too bright. I prefer things balanced. I prefer the shadows.'
'Oh my god,' I thought, a sudden, overwhelming wave of pity washing over me. 'He doesn't care about academy politics. He doesn't care about the balance of power. He's just severely, terminally heartbroken.'
The pieces fit together so perfectly it was almost tragic. Rias loses his fiancée to the shiny, perfect prince. He falls into despair. He realizes he's weak, so he pushes himself to the brink of death to beat Gareth Thorne, desperately trying to prove he's worth something. And now, driven by the bitter, agonizing sting of rejection, he wants to tear down the man who stole his girl.
'He wants revenge,' I realized, feeling a strange tightening in my chest. 'He's trying to play the cold, calculating mastermind, but he's really just a sad, dumped ex-boyfriend trying to ruin his rival's life.'
I looked back at the doors where Rias had exited.
'Poor guy,' I thought, my hostility evaporating entirely. 'No wonder he was talking like a protagonist from a cheap revenge play. "Be the eclipse." He's probably been crying into his pillow every night. He just wants to eclipse the guy who took Viola. It's actually… kind of sad.'
"Serene?" Lira asked hesitantly, noting my silence. "You aren't actually considering his offer, are you? It's Rias. He's a nobody."
I turned my expressionless gaze to Lira.
A few days ago, Lira had suggested I step down and support Aurelius. She had basically told me to roll over and die. Rias, on the other hand, had looked at this table of supposed "loyalists" and instantly deduced that they were all flight risks.
'You're losing them. You can feel it.' He had been right. It stung, but the heartbroken dork had been absolutely right.
"Rias von Leonhart just dismantled a rank-seven elite without casting a single spell," I said, my voice smooth and chillingly flat. "And he is offering to do the dirty work of dismantling Aurelius's support base while asking for nothing but library privileges."
"But he's—" Trent started.
"Trent," I cut him off, the temperature of the air rose around us by a few degrees just to make a point. He felt sweat run down on his body, his mouth snapping shut. "If a dog offers to bite your enemy, you don't ask the dog for its pedigree. You unclip the leash."
I stood up, smoothing the front of my uniform.
"If he thinks he can deliver the votes, I will let him try," I announced to my silent, uncomfortable table. "We need a variable. And apparently, Leonhart has decided to be one."
I picked up my bag and walked away, leaving them to their lukewarm food and wavering loyalties.
As I navigated the corridors back to my dorm, my mind kept drifting back to Rias's face. He had looked so serious. So intense. He really thought he was being a ruthless political operator.
'I have to be careful,' I warned myself as I unlocked my door. 'A boy with a broken heart is unstable. If I push him too hard, he might start crying about Viola in the middle of a strategy meeting.'
I threw my bag onto my desk and collapsed onto the edge of my plush bed, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. The heavy, suffocating pressure of the upcoming election—the fear of failing, of proving Duke Karlos right—had been choking me for weeks.
But now? Now there was a tiny, bizarre crack in the wall closing in on me.
I flopped back onto the mattress, staring up at the enchanted ceiling.
'He wants library access,' I thought, letting out a sudden, very un-lady-like snort of amusement. 'He wants to destroy a prince's political career, and his ultimate demand is reading privileges. He's such a loser.'
But he was my loser now.
I rolled over, grabbing a piece of premium parchment and a silver-tipped quill from my nightstand. If we were going to do this, we had to do it properly. I couldn't just walk up to him in the hallway; that would look desperate. I needed to summon him. I needed to maintain the hierarchy.
I started drafting a letter.
Leonhart, Your audacious proposal has been noted. Meet me at the abandoned clock tower at midnight. Come alone.
— S. Sinclair
I stared at the words.
'Too aggressive?' I wondered, chewing on the end of the quill. 'What if it scares him? He's already emotionally fragile. I shouldn't be too mean.'
I crumpled the parchment, tossed it into the small wastebasket, and grabbed a fresh sheet.
Rias,
I have considered your words. Meet me in the Restricted Alchemy Lab on the third floor at eight o'clock tonight. It is secure. — Serene
I nodded in satisfaction. It was cold, professional, but not overly threatening.
I folded the note neatly, sealing it with a small dab of red wax. I didn't stamp my family crest into it; this needed to be discreet.
I walked over to my mirror, checking my reflection. I practiced my neutral, unimpressed stare. I needed to look like a regal leader accepting a desperate vassal, not a lonely girl grabbing onto a lifeline thrown by a dumped fiancé.
'I can use him,' I told my reflection, narrowing my green eyes. 'He has a grudge against Aurelius. I have a grudge against Aurelius. Enemy of my enemy.'
I pictured Rias again, imagining him staring tragically at the moon, writing terrible poetry about Viola's chestnut hair.
I pressed a hand to my mouth to stifle a giggle.
'Okay, focus, Serene,' I scolded myself, slapping my cheeks lightly. 'He might be a pathetic, heartbroken mess, but he's a pathetic, heartbroken mess who knows how to parry a heavy spear. Treat him like a weapon.'
I slipped the letter into my pocket and left the room to find a courier to deliver it.
As I walked down the hall, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of my lips. It was the first time I had smiled in weeks without faking it for a potential voter.
'Don't worry, Rias,' I thought, feeling a weird, almost maternal sense of pity for the guy. 'You help me win this election, and I'll personally make sure Aurelius suffers enough to avenge your broken heart. We'll show Viola exactly what she threw away.'
I nodded to myself, fully convinced of my flawless psychological assessment of the situation.
The Side Character and the Villainess.
United by trauma, ambition, and a mutual hatred for the golden boy.
'This,' I thought, stepping out into the evening air, 'is actually going to be kind of fun.'