Fall of Autumn, Week 5, Day 5

"She didn't even greet me!" Edwin Horus, the young Lord of Viscount Horus' house, hissed to Leanna Rosea, the young Lady of Count Rosea's house.

Beside him, she nodded seriously. "Or me."

Juliette Mithra and Paul Starling, of a Baron and Baronet's house, respectively, clung to each other as always. They listened to Edwin and Leanna complain often, but this hit a bit close to home. Juliette looked at Paul, working her lip anxiously.

"Do you think she finds us too lesser?" She asked.

"I don't think so, Jules. She's chatting with the commoners well enough," Paul said, clutching Jules' hand. Lowering his voice so Edwin and Leanna wouldn't notice, Paul continued, "I think Edwin rubbed her the wrong way. You said he chatted with her alone at the Tower, right? You know how Edwin can be."

Paul thought back to the way Edwin had first introduced himself to Paul. Even though Paul is the son of a Baronet, a noble house in its own right, Edwin had said it made Paul barely better than a commoner.

But everyone knew that the Dawns began at the bottom of all the nobility before working their way up, so it struck Paul as rather rude to imply any level of Divine Right was at the level of a commoner.

Then again, it wasn't as if Paul could say that to Edwin. His house held a lot of power in Fellan. They owned the Minerva Mining Settlement just outside of town and thus controlled its distribution. The Ouros' were the only house to hold as much financial power—outside of the high noble houses. Hyperion and Dawn ruled the lands.

The Starlings and Mithras were mostly just local powers, with very few exports. Even Rosea, with as much exports as it provided to Fellan, couldn't really match the lesser Viscount house—in the Duchy of Dawn, anyway. In Poplar, Paul wasn't really sure of their standing.

That didn't make the sting of being ignored fade, though. Especially not for Jules, who had told Paul she rather thought Lady Nora looked brilliant that first day—with gems and shining metal decorating her head like a crown. Even that very day, Jules had admired Lady Nora's hair, with intricate braids running down her back.

Paul just wanted Jules to be happy. He didn't much care about Fourth Light of Dawn—even if she'd remembered him from the Day of Sermon.

He watched, as his father had taught him. Always watch. Do not act if you have not first [Observed]. Uriel heard his father's instructions clear as day. Of his brothers, Uriel was the only one to gain their families [Young Lord of Hyperion] Class. Thus, his [Inspect] had become the Class Skill [Observe] in addition to the other unique Class Skill he was awarded.

Fortunately, his Class was [Uncommon], thus he received a Skill immediately upon selecting [Young Lord of Hyperion]. Most [Common] Classes required becoming Level 5, much like the level of competency for general Skills.

Usually, Uriel was bored when he watched the others. They moved slower than his Perception even recognized as true movement. Their voices were never unheard, never lost in the busy thrum of a classroom. Not to Uriel. Even as Edwin and Leanna complained about Nora. In fact, Uriel could see the odd smile on the girl in question's face every time they had a new complaint about her. It was almost amused.

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It was interesting to watch the young Lady of Dawn. She may have been the daughter of the Ancestral Count, the Duchess of Dawn, but she hardly acted like it. Her etiquette was fine, but it was her general demeanor that was a shock. Even Uriel wasn't above an occasional mishap, but Nora made consideration look like an art.

Well, not consideration for Edwin. Though, Uriel was sure that was because of Edwin's inability to humble himself in any situation. It was the comment about Remour that did it, Uriel was sure of it. He had watched as a flip switched in Nora.

That, in all honesty, was the moment Uriel found he rather didn't mind the Fourth Light of Dawn pushing him around or using him as a shield from the Master of the Tower.

For all she was a Dawn, Nora acted like a person before acting like a noble.

Uriel rather liked that.

"She's smart, Gristle," Primrose Apoplos accused the butler.

Gristle looked like the cat that caught the canary, with his self-satisfied smirk. "She is."

"No, she's smart! Do you not understand?" The woman huffed, throwing her hands in the air. "Every test, every question—whether they be word problems, algebraic expressions, statistics—she gets them all right. Every. Single. One."

Primrose was rather hating the smug look on her friend's face. Thus, she jabbed her finger into his chest.

"You said she was on par for a normal child. You begged me to teach her—just for a season, you said. It would be easy money, you said. 'Then you can go about your way, Prim, you don't have to see it all the way through. ' Did you know?"

At that, Gristle paused.

"I didn't, really," Gristle confessed, "but I had a hunch. No one with such a vibrant Affirmation was meant for mediocrity."

Primrose gasped. "You set me up! You knew I wouldn't be able to leave it alone!"

At that, Gristle laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

She's a menace, Radir Ridan laughed to himself as he went about his day. It was odd to see physically again. He wasn't sure he would ever fully get used to it. Not when his [Eyes of Dusk] Skill overlaid the world in hues of shining sunrise. People were darker, objects so pale that the golden light of dawn could hardly outline it. But with color? Rad could move. He was back to his old self, before Evenor had scarred him. Before Mallorica had told Evenor to scar him.

It was no wonder that the children they raised were terrors. Rad had never met the others, but he had heard tales of the elder three. Not a one well-adjusted. Even the one he knew wasn't truly well-adjusted. She was a mess of nerves, Rad could tell how tense she was at all times just by sensing her aura—it radiated a coldness that rivaled a deep winter.

Rad was sure sticking around the little Light of Dawn would be interesting, though. And that's all he really cared about.

I hate her. I hate her. I hate her! The teenager raged, her black hair whipping around her as she flung bolts of magic around her room, shattering numerous priceless pieces of art.

She will take everything I've worked for. She oozes magic. She needs to be gone.

It was rare for someone who could not see their own Divinity to use it. But not impossible. Thus, when the teenager felt for her connection to those she bonded with, it reached further than should have been possible.

She reached across a Dukedom.

[Master of Monsters]

Find her.

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