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[06]
ROYAL COLLEGIUM:
G6’S INTERACTIONS
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G6 stared at the ornate ceiling of her bedroom as yesterday's events replayed in orderly sequence.

An immeasurable mana reserve. Cryomancy—a Blessing of the Heavens that apparently belonged more comfortably in ancient theological texts than a modern appraisal. Special Skills the registry did not recognize. Then there was Queen Euphelia’s rather inconvenient order forbidding her from experimenting with the most interesting affinity on the list.

There was also the Queen’s master, whoever that was. G6 had filed that away for later.

For now, she had a more immediate problem.

If I say I don’t know how to use magic, that would just sell me out.

She folded one arm beneath her head.

I already made a mistake in the discussion of magic earlier. Reise Worthon was supposed to know these things.

G6 did not.

There was no fixing that discrepancy overnight, but she could at least stop creating new ones.

She sat upright and glared at herself through the full-length mirror positioned opposite the bed.

“And Gemstones do not tolerate mistakes.”

After a moment, she nodded to herself.

“Alright.”

G6 stood and opened the balcony doors. Cold evening air slipped into the chamber, stirring the curtains and lifting strands of rose-gold hair from her shoulders as she stepped outside.

Queen Euphelia had specifically forbidden Cryomancy.

She had said nothing about Wind.

In the series Pisces watched… they just imagine the mana and let it rip.

G6 looked at her palm.

It cannot be that hard.

Probably.

She held one hand outward and closed her eyes.

No incantation came to mind, nor any ritual or gesture beyond what instinct demanded, so she concentrated on the only thing she understood.

Flow. Pressure. Direction.

Imagine the flow.

Something answered.

There was no light or dramatic halo. Instead, the air around her changed. Leaves along the balcony rail trembled, the curtains behind her pulled toward the open doors, and loose strands of her hair lifted as pressure gathered around her palm.

Mana moved through the space around her, drawn toward a point she had not known how to name until that moment.

G6’s brows rose.

Uhuh. Cool. Just like that wind bla—

CRACK—

Her eyes snapped open.

A compressed blade of air had crossed the garden in an instant.

The polyalthia tree directly opposite her balcony shuddered before its upper half slowly slid sideways. For one suspended second, it seemed to remain perfectly intact.

Then—

THUD.

Half the tree crashed into the garden.

G6 stared.

Footsteps erupted somewhere below as servants and gardeners rushed toward the noise. Someone shouted.

G6 stepped backward, then took another step before slipping into the bedroom and shutting the balcony doors with suspicious efficiency.

“Close one.”

She stood completely still while the voices outside multiplied.

Her attention dropped to her tingling hand, and Queen Euphelia’s warning returned with irritating accuracy.

“The Queen had a point,” G6 mumbled as she flexed her fingers. “This body is a mess. My hand feels weird.”

There was no serious injury, but the muscles of her forearm felt strained, almost as though she had fired a weapon with recoil her body had not been prepared to absorb.

She dropped backward onto the bed.

I never felt this discomfort in my life.

Her eyes settled on the ceiling.

What the heck has this woman been doing for eighteen years?

Soft. Delicate. Barely conditioned.

G6 exhaled.

Well, if she had a backbone, she would not have foolishly killed herself.

Her brows tightened.

When I was eighteen, I was already titled as Reaper.

Another thought surfaced before she could stop it.

I wonder how Pisces reacted when I died.

Something hollow struck beneath her ribs. It was not pain exactly, but an absence with shape.

G6 frowned.

What the hell is this?

Reading weakness in other people was easy. Fear shortened breath, lies changed rhythm, anger shifted shoulders, and attachment created patterns.

Her own emotions were considerably less cooperative.

Most had been trained out of usefulness before she was old enough to name them, and whatever this was, she had no intention of entertaining it.

G6 rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow.

The sensation eventually dulled into static.

Sleep followed.

❈.❈.❈

The next morning arrived beneath a pale grey sky.

G6 had already spent nearly an hour on the balcony, and the flowerbed below had suffered for it.

Several blossoms had been sliced cleanly in half, while others had been ripped from their stems and scattered across the sand-colored garden path. One decorative shrub leaned suspiciously to the left.

Casualties.

At least no additional trees had fallen.

Progress.

G6 raised her hand again.

A controlled current moved between her fingers, bending the leaves of a nearby plant without disturbing anything else.

Nothing exploded. Nothing snapped.

She let the pressure disperse.

Better.

It was nowhere near mastery, but she could direct the Wind now without turning the landscaping into collateral damage. That would suffice until someone competent explained what she was actually doing.

She returned inside.

The dressing room presented another problem.

The main wardrobe remained a festival of colors G6 considered personally offensive—pink, yellow, cream and an obscene amount of ruffles, lace and innocence.

“My eyes,” she complained to the empty room. “It is like a clown exploded.”

Her gaze shifted toward the storage wardrobe Tina had opened for her the previous day, the one containing the garments Reise had once demanded be discarded.

They were gifts from her cousin in the Elora Kingdom, and Duchess Worthon had apparently possessed enough foresight to forbid their destruction.

G6 opened it.

Darkness greeted her in black, grey, crimson and velvet, all arranged in structured silhouettes.

“All of you are beautiful,” she said, mimicking the world’s dramatic lilt. “And locked away. Do not worry, darlings. I will put you to work. Save you from the pastel nightmare out there.”

She pulled out one black gown and held it up.

The neckline plunged far enough that even G6 had to concede Queen Euphelia might possess a valid complaint. The back was nearly nonexistent.

G6 stared at it for several seconds.

Gorgeous.

Then reality intruded.

That Queen might take my card.

She put it back.

Sacrifices had to be made.

Then another garment farther inside caught her eye.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

It was black, still severe and still unmistakably more G6 than Reise, but this one obeyed enough rules to survive the Collegium.

The high neckline sat close against the throat without suffocating her. Long fitted sleeves ended cleanly at the wrists, while the bodice followed the waist sharply before falling into a dark, controlled skirt with enough room to walk freely but none of the excessive volume she hated.

Subtle black embroidery traced the cuffs and collar. There were no flowers, bows or ridiculous ribbons.

The entire design was restrained—almost threateningly so.

“Whoever made this gets it.”

This was the one.

On her way back toward the bedroom, servants pressed themselves politely toward the walls.

“Good morning, Lady Reise.”

G6 acknowledged them with a simple nod and continued walking.

Several servants stared after her.

The old Reise would have found some flaw: a crooked apron, an insufficient bow, perhaps a glance held too long.

This Reise merely nodded.

It was not warmth. Nothing about those cold grey eyes suggested warmth, but the acknowledgment still carried authority and a strange kind of dignity.

Enough to leave the servants wondering which version frightened them more.

❈.❈.❈

Back inside her chamber, G6 laid the dress across the bed.

After washing, she sat before the vanity and inspected the expensive collection of cosmetics Tina normally used on her.

Fortunately, color still behaved like color.

Technique remained technique.

“Tina’s soft look is boring. I want an edge.”

She leaned toward the mirror.

“And this stupid hair is too curly.”

Reise’s natural hair fell exactly to her waist in long rose-gold waves, beautiful but far too elaborate for G6’s patience.

She lifted a section between her fingers.

She had used Wind once to cut a tree.

Surely it could handle hair.

Probably.

G6 pointed toward her own head.

“Don’t blow your own head off.”

A thin current moved over the strands, careful and controlled. Warm air slipped through the waves rather than striking them, gradually loosening the tighter curls and smoothing the surface.

Not completely straight—she left enough texture and volume that the rose-gold hair still looked naturally expensive—but the shape became cleaner and less ornamental. The waves fell more deliberately around her face, with several loose strands framing the cold planes of Reise’s features.

G6 tilted her head.

“Much better.”

The process had been crude but useful.

Another practical application.

She filed that away.

Then came the makeup.

No pastel blush. No overly delicate shimmer.

She swept warm brown over her lids, deepening the outer edges only slightly. A precise black wing sharpened the shape of her grey eyes without overwhelming them. Her brows were defined cleanly, while the complexion remained polished rather than powdered into porcelain perfection.

The final touch was a glossy nude-brown lip.

Modern, controlled and sharp enough.

G6 examined herself.

“Damn, this stuff is good. Looking like a weapon.”

She dressed without waiting for assistance. It was faster and, at least for her, normal.

❈.❈.❈

Tina and Lilia approached the bedroom sometime later.

“Is she awake?” Lilia asked.

Tina stared at the closed door.

“I have stopped guessing. Expectations are for breaking. Her behavior right now has no pattern.”

They knocked and entered.

Their lady was already seated at the tea table, fully dressed and ready.

Black covered her from throat downward. Her rose-gold hair had been softened into cleaner waves, while warm brown makeup framed grey eyes that looked even colder beneath the sharp liner.

Tina stopped.

See. No pattern, Tina thought.

“Good morning, Lady Reise!” Lilia chirped.

All remaining shyness had apparently died overnight. She hurried closer and circled G6 with open admiration.

“You are stunning! And your hair! A whole new you!”

“Good morning, Lady Reise,” Tina said.

Her gaze moved over the dress, then the hair, and finally the makeup.

“You look… distinctly elegant.”

“Thanks.”

G6 smiled.

Tina’s suspicion rose immediately.

Why is she smiling? Tina wondered. What does she want now?

“You woke early, my lady?” Lilia asked as she took the chair beside G6 without permission.

G6 had stopped correcting that particular liberty.

“Yeah.”

Tina’s attention remained fixed on the hair.

“Your hair. How?”

“Used my affinity. Intense speed producing heated air.”

Tina stared at her.

“I assume you practiced extensively before attempting it.”

It was a polite question and a blatant trap.

“You got me, Tina. Always too smart.”

G6’s light sarcasm softened the admission without actually denying it.

Lilia brightened.

“The servants mentioned a disturbance last night. A tree was cut. And the garden was… rearranged this morning.”

G6’s expression remained perfectly serious.

“Well, that tree’s fault for standing in front of my balcony.”

Tina slowly closed her eyes.

Of course, Tina thought.

“And stop standing guard,” G6 added, turning toward her. “Sit.”

Tina looked at the empty chair and then back at G6.

She knew a diversion when she heard one.

Still, she sat.

A knock interrupted them.

Edmund entered, pushing a breakfast cart, but paused when he found G6 seated at the tea table with two servants as though the arrangement had always existed.

G6 caught his expression immediately.

“Don’t ask. It is the rule.”

Edmund considered the scene and wisely abandoned the question.

“As you wish.”

He presented the breakfast: French toast, fruit and tea.

“Smells good.”

“Alistair ensured it was fortified,” Edmund explained. “I mentioned your Bastion training.”

“Good. Sit.”

Edmund stopped.

His eyes moved toward Tina, who gave him the smallest nod.

It was warning enough. Refusal was not worth whatever followed.

Edmund sat, albeit with obvious discomfort.

“Tina, serve the extras.”

“Lady Reise!” Lilia looked delighted. “Is that why you wanted extra plates?”

G6 nodded around a mouthful of food.

There were few things she considered sacred: strong alcohol, good weapons and good food.

Perhaps not in that order.

“Thank you, Lady Reise!”

They ate, and for several minutes the room remained comfortably quiet.

Eventually, Edmund lowered his cup.

“You are… considerate, my—”

He stopped.

A brief twitch crossed G6’s eyebrow.

Edmund corrected himself immediately.

“Lady Reise. Contrary to rumor.”

Tina almost smiled.

“She hates an audience while eating,” Tina explained. “And dislikes being the only one.”

She paused.

“Apparently,” Tina added.

“Yeah. Don't annoy me, and we’re good,” G6 agreed.

Then she continued eating as though she had just explained a perfectly reasonable political philosophy.

❈.❈.❈

“I am stuffed.”

G6 drained her water in one go while Edmund finished his tea with considerably more dignity.

“Thank you for the meal,” Edmund said.

“Portions stay the same. Don’t make me repeat it.”

G6’s eyes landed on Tina.

“Understood, Lady Reise.”

The formal reply carried just enough familiar irritation to make G6 narrow her eyes.

This four-eyed maid. Always with the attitude.

G6 stood.

“I am going to the Royal Collegium. Which way?”

Instead of answering, Tina placed her Staff Card on the table.

Lilia copied her.

Edmund followed.

G6 looked at the three cards and then at their owners.

“The Queen mandated supervision,” Tina stated.

“I am not going to get lost.”

Tina said nothing, but her face did.

Believability: zero.

“Her Majesty was… insistent,” Edmund added carefully.

“She will revoke your access,” Tina finished.

G6 stared at them.

That woman. Always with the leverage.

“All three of you? Get a life.”

Lilia clasped her hands together.

“Lady Reise, the Royal Collegium is so beautiful…”

Her eyes widened into an unmistakably pleading stare.

Tina slowly reached for her Staff Card.

“You may, of course, remain here. All day.”

G6 looked at her.

Oh. Is she trying to blackmail me?

A beat passed.

Adorable.

I will play along.

“How does this work?”

Edmund straightened.

“Align your family crest with the registered name. Then provide a small wisp of mana. The authorization is keyed directly to you.”

G6 collected the first card and followed his instructions one by one.

A faint glow traveled through each Staff Card. The Worthon crest appeared beside the registered names, followed by G6’s initials beneath it.

Lilia stared at hers as though someone had handed her a crown.

“Yay! It is so pretty! Now it has your mark!”

“An honor,” Edmund agreed.

G6 turned one of the cards over.

“What if you lose it?”

“Useless to anyone else,” Edmund replied. “It recognizes our mana signatures.”

G6 nodded.

High security. Tight systems like that… just beg to be broken.