The second day of the new semester began with a flood of students streaming into the main hall for course registration. Valentina made her way through the crowd, a list of the courses she wanted to attend this year firmly in hand. She had chosen to focus on medical applications of Essence Weaving, inspired by her time at Greystone Hospital.

"All those looks," Vyxara murmured, amused. "You'd think you were an exotic creature from the Scorched Lands or the Far West and not just a student in a new dress."

Valentina did indeed attract attention. Her tailored dress in a subtle shade of grey – still simpler than her most elegant gowns from Dusktown, but of unmistakable quality – and her confident bearing made her a topic of conversation.

The contrast with the shy farmer's daughter and even the superior winner of last year's Greystone Competition was too obvious to be ignored. She had been seen in the same three patched dresses all year. She could understand that her new wardrobe attracted attention. She had to come to terms with the fact that she had almost no control over what people said about her.

A clearing of the throat next to her made her look up. Lydia Emberfell, the professor of Practical Essence Weaving, was looking at her with a thoughtful expression.

"Valentina," she said with a curt nod. "I've heard remarkable reports of your work in Dusktown. The modification of the Greystone Cascade is said to be outstanding work."

Valentina bowed slightly. "Thank you very much, Professor. It was an educational experience."

"I can imagine." A slight smile flitted across Emberfell's face. "The duke is known to encourage talented young people. In his own way."

The emphasis on the last words was subtle, but unmistakable. Valentina kept her gaze steady.

"His interest in promoting scholarship is admirable," she said neutrally.

"Indeed." Emberfell nodded slowly. "I look forward to seeing you in my class. Your practical experience would be valuable to the discussion."

As the professor continued her way, Valentina took a deep breath.

"She's neither shocked nor judgmental," Vyxara remarked. "Interesting. She just seems to take you seriously."

"Some only see the connection to the duke," thought Valentina. "Others recognize that I have actually achieved something."

"Both aspects are true and useful," purred the demon. "Use both to your advantage."

The rest of the morning passed in a flurry of registrations and greetings from other students. Some reacted to her change with open curiosity, others with barely concealed resentment.

After lunch, Valentina headed to the library, already searching for some of the recommended study materials for Professor Whitehall's medical courses. The familiar high bookshelves and the smell of old parchment and leather brought back memories of her first year – the endless hours of studying, the desperation over her limited resources, the hunger for knowledge and her fanatical preparation for the Greystone Competition.

She was making her way safely through the corridors to the medical department when a familiar but entirely unwelcome face gave her pause. Faustus Boarfend was standing at a shelf, a heavy book in his hands, his gaze fixed on her. His face contorted into surprise and barely concealed distaste.

"If it isn't Valentina of Palewood," he said, his voice quiet but penetrating. "Back from her... summer of special education."

Valentina held his gaze. "Faustus. I see you were allowed to return to your studies despite your atrocious behavior."

"On probation," he replied through clenched teeth. "Thanks to you and your... patron."

"You brought your situation on yourself," Valentina replied calmly. "No one forced you to behave like an offended child."

Faustus' face turned red. "You think you're special because you've been lying on your back in a duke's bed all summer?"

"I think I'm special because I've worked hard and earned my place," she said coolly. "While others make their success dependent on their family connections or by using... questionable artifacts."

"Watch your mouth," he hissed, taking a step closer. "Probation or no probation, I still have influence. My family-"

"Your family isn't here," Valentina interrupted him calmly. "And I don't think you want to cause another incident."

She held his gaze, a new, calm authority in her demeanor that seemed to surprise him. Finally, he stepped back, a fake smile on his lips. "Enjoy your moment in the light, Valentina. Such arrangements rarely last long. And if the duke loses interest..." He let the sentence hang meaningfully in the air.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Valentina said coolly, walking past him, "I have work to do."

As she turned the corner, her hands trembled slightly.

"Well done, little Weaver ," Vyxara praised. "He's still dangerous, but tamed at the moment. And you're not as easy to scare as you used to be."

She gathered the books she needed and left the library on a path that took her past Professor Horne's office. As she crept past, the door suddenly opened and she found herself face to face with her former teacher and lover.

Professor Horne froze, his eyes widening. "Valentina," he whispered, as if he could hardly believe she was standing in front of him. He looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and a neglected stubble beard. "I... I wanted to talk to you."

Valentina instinctively backed away. "I'm afraid I have an appointment right now, Professor," she said politely but firmly.

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"Please," his voice sounded unusually desperate. "Just for a moment. We need to... clarify how-"

"Another time," she interrupted him gently. "Excuse me."

She hurried away, his hurt look burning into her back.

"You can't avoid him forever," Vyxara remarked. "Sooner or later you'll have to talk to him. I realize you don't want to continue the arrangement with him, and I'm inclined to agree that he's outlived his usefulness, but you need to figure out how to let him down gently."

"I know," thought Valentina. "But not now. Not until I've found my feet here again."

The day was drawing to a close as Valentina walked through the east, on her way to the residential building. The corridors were quieter here, most students preferring the more direct routes through the main courtyard.

A voice stopped her. "Valentina, just a moment."

She turned and saw Decan Egwine Valemont, the head of the university, coming towards her with measured steps. He was an imposing middle-aged man with a well-groomed grey beard and sharp eyes that stood out from under bushy eyebrows.

"Decan Valemont," she greeted respectfully with a curtsey.

"I wanted to inform you personally that we are expecting a distinguished guest in the coming weeks," he said, his voice calm but serious. "Illuminator Wigmund Eastwald will be gracing us with his presence."

Of course, Valentina already knew that, but she nevertheless played being surprised and shocked. "An Illuminator? Here at the university?"

"Indeed." The Decan nodded slowly. "He was dispatched by the Scorchbishop of Vandercourt to investigate certain concerns regarding our moral standards. A routine visit, I am assured."

His eyes rested meaningfully on her. "I thought it would be appropriate to inform our students, especially those who have performed... outstanding achievements last year."

Valentina tilted her head, understanding the unspoken warning. "Thank you for the information, Decan Valemont."

As he walked on, Valentina stopped, an icy feeling of foreboding spreading through her chest.

"That was a warning," Vyxara whispered. "He may not know everything, but he suspects that you may be under special observation and wants to warn you in advance – also as a favor to your protector. We really must be on our guard."

~

Valentina took her place in the second row of the large lecture room for Medical Essence Applications in the Tower of Healing. Professor Whitehall had not yet begun, and the other students were slowly streaming in, some still visibly tired. Valentina opened her notebook, a precious gift from the duke, its leather cover decorated with fine embossing and its pages made of precious parchment rather than vellum.

For Valentina, who had always collected discarded scraps of parchment from richer students and painstakingly scraped them off to use them again, the notebook was a gift that was almost more precious than any jewelry the duke had given her.

"Ah, look, the duchess is honoring us with her presence," whispered a voice behind her. Valentina did not even need to turn around. She recognized the voice. It was Avie Oakheart, a student from a merchant family that had been elevated to nobility only a few years ago.

"You could give her inkwell a bump with a little Ard Essence pattern so it tips over," Vyxara suggested, amused. "Nothing nasty – just a gentle message."

"No thanks," thought Valentina. "I don't have to prove anything."

The first month of the new academic year had brought changes that were more profound than just the slow change of season. The second-year students were now specializing, their paths splitting in different directions depending on talent and inclination.

"I have to say, it feels strange," Crispin had said a week ago as they sat together in the library, each hunched over different books. "For the first time since we've known each other, we don't see each other every day."

"We still have the basics classes in common," Innogen had replied as she absently played with a strand of her golden hair. "And besides, we meet here. The library is our territory."

Valentina had nodded with a smile as she read a complicated passage about the interaction of Leb-Essence with various organs. "Our paths may part during the day, but they always lead back together."

"Even so, it's a pity," Crispin had remarked with a wry smile before returning to his thick tome on planar geometry.

They had developed a system – they met twice a week to study together, share insights and help each other with difficult concepts. These meetings had become an anchor in Valentina's new life as a second-year student.

Professor Whitehall now entered the room, and immediately all conversation fell silent. The small, curvy woman with the unruly grey hair had a friendly authority based on warm respect that needed no loud words. She let her friendly gaze wander around the room and nodded with satisfaction when she saw the neat rows of attentive students.

"Today," she began without beating about the bush, "we will be discussing the use of Leb Essence to treat bone fractures. It's a complex subject, as the correct alignment of the bone fragments is just as important as stimulating the healing process."

Valentina felt a smile creep onto her lips. This was an area in which she had already gained expertise thanks to her experience at Greystone Hospital. She had healed Jenny using this very technique, among others.

When Professor Whitehall began to explain the basic principles, Valentina eagerly took notes, supplementing the professor's explanations with her own observations from her practical experience.

"The challenge," Whitehall continued, "is that we need to not only stimulate bone growth, but make sure it's in the right alignment. Bones that heal incorrectly can be worse than the original fracture."

"Excuse me, Professor," Valentina raised her hand. "At Dusktown, we often used a combination of Leb and a minimal Ard pattern for complex fractures to hold the bone fragments in place during the healing process." She concealed the fact that it was she herself who had developed this approach and that it had been enthusiastically adopted by her colleagues in Dusktown because of its usefulness.

Whitehall raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? Does that work well? That's an original approach. Would you care to elaborate, Valentina?"

As Valentina described the technique, she could feel the other students' eyes on her. Some envious, others respectful, but all attentive. Professor Whitehall herself seemed impressed.

"An elegant solution," she commented when Valentina had finished. "Master Wilford seems to have taught you a lot."

"He's a demanding teacher," Valentina replied with a slight smile. "But I've learned a lot from him."

"Very well," Whitehall continued. "Let's include this technique in the curriculum right away. Would you show us how it works, Valentina? Gareth, could you please prepare a Wazzer pattern to support the demonstration? I want to see exactly how it resonates."

The rest of the lesson passed quickly as the class practiced various healing patterns under Whitehall's keen observation. At the end of the lesson, as the students were packing up their materials, Whitehall held Valentina back.

"Just a moment, Valentina."

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