Saving the school would have been easier as a cafeteria worker

The sun had nearly set by the time Cal left Wyatt's class. He hadn't needed to stay that long but doing so would further reinforce the idea that he had nothing to hide. It also offered the neat side benefit of watching a magic engineer at work.

A normal one, that is, not whatever Millie counted as.

Through this observation, Cal had learned the function of several of the devices Wyatt had lying around. He had to piece it together, as the man didn't exactly narrate what he was doing, but peering at the scribbled notes did wonders for filling in the blanks.

Cal's key takeaway was that there were many ways to skin a cat, and Wyatt was trying to do them all at once. Half of the instruments were different ways of measuring corruption, and for the life of him, Cal couldn't see why one would need that much redundancy.

Wary of missing something important, Cal didn't call Wyatt out on it and instead spent the time conversing with Mia. She was not exceptionally chatty, and it turned into a curated retelling of his trip.

Cal got the distinct sense that Mia had been humoring him more than anything. As if he were telling her a story she'd already read before. That didn't stop him from recounting it, but it did cause him to twist things midway through to see if she'd call him out on it. Either she didn't notice, or her poker face was beyond his ability to read.

Eventually, the stuffiness of the classroom could no longer be ignored, and he took his leave. He could have stopped at any one of the eateries around campus, but he'd already decided to cook himself dinner.

It would have been nice to get some alone time before tying up the day, but it seemed someone else had other plans.

"So…" Cal trailed off uncertainly, hoping the awkward silence would deliver part of his message. "Did you want to talk about something?"

Mia didn't spare him a look, continuing to read through the book he'd given her. At least this time, he could tell she wasn't pretending.

"No," she said after flipping a page.

Fantastic. Then why was she still following him? Then again, maybe it was presumptuous to say she was. It could have been a coincidence that they were headed the same way.

He maintained that delusion until the glass structure appeared around the bend of the path they were on. This scenario was reminiscent of one he had before, and rather than dig into it, he followed up with Mia.

"Did you want to cook something?"

The kitchen was certainly big enough for both of them to work, but he'd never seen her make anything.

"Not interested," she said without missing a beat. "Sticky fingers ruin pages."

While it was an on-brand response, Cal had to wonder if she had heard of something called a sink.

"And I'm guessing you don't need anything there." She shook her head at his words. "Which means you're just following me."

It occurred to him that she may have planned to meet someone else there, but her nod eliminated that possibility.

Cal ran a hand through his hair, releasing a soft sigh.

As far as people to shadow him went, Mia was fairly unobtrusive. She was liable to sit in the corner and read for a few hours before leaving. He could deal with that. Hells, he might even forget she was there.

Their steps brought them closer, and they passed the exterior water feature before making for the entrance. It wasn't particularly busy, but there were a few students milling about. Cal didn't pay them any mind as he waited for the elevator platform.

When it arrived, Cal moved to the side to allow its passenger to disembark. They remained on the pad, blocking his way.

"Callum Ardere," the brown-haired man said ominously. "I suspected you would be here."

Cal blinked at the unknown student. He had long hair and dark eyes that appeared mildly familiar. Where had he seen this guy before?

"I'm not trying to be rude here," Cal said diplomatically. "But have we met before?"

There was a faint inkling that he shouldn't like the guy, but Cal would like to confirm the source of those feelings before he dismissed him.

"Lucas Fulgur," the man said with a twitch of his brow. "Son of Count Fulgur, to whom you seem determined to serve an insult."

The name clicked, and Cal realized his distaste was not misplaced. This was the man who'd approached Lily and him on the rooftop all those weeks ago. He was William's brother.

"Can we pick this up next week?" Cal asked despite not knowing what 'this' was. "I have a pending appointment."

It involved a stove, a fridge, and an indeterminate number of kitchen appliances.

"As my brother is currently indisposed," Lucas continued, ignoring Cal's request. "It falls to me to protect my house's interests. To that end, I formally request a duel between us to resolve this dispute."

Cal took a quick glance around, and to his relief, no one seemed particularly interested in what had just been declared. In fact, it didn't look like anyone had even noticed—which was odd, considering how much this student body loved to gossip.

"We're going to run through a thought experiment," Cal said in a friendly voice. "I want you to think of the worst idea you've ever had, really picture it, and now consider that this is worse than that."

Alice had enough to deal with, and Cal didn't want to have to tell her another idiot was trying to fight him. If he could convince the man to buzz off on his own, that would be best for everyone involved.

"Is that meant to be humorous?" Lucas questioned with a raised eyebrow. "You're fortunate to be a noble, as you'd earn no coin as an entertainer."

He'd led the horse to water, and it refused to drink. Was the next step to knock out the horse? Cal's eyesight drifted up, toward where the clubroom would be. An idea suddenly formed.

"Can I borrow your phone?" Cal asked, holding his open palm out to the side.

For some reason, Lucas took that as an invitation to speak.

"Are you asking me?" he stated, sounding more confused than offended.

Cal squinted his eyes at the man before turning his head.

"No, I was talking to—" he abruptly stopped speaking, realizing he was alone. "I know you're still here. Is that a no to the phone then?"

There was no response, and Cal could feel Lucas grow more skeptical of his sanity by the second.

"I'm not crazy," Cal said, feeling the need to clear that up. It had the opposite effect, and Lucas's right foot shifted back in an unconscious action of retreat. Cal tried to capitalize on the opening. "Or maybe I am?"

If it would get him out of this, he could pretend to be a nut job. Sadly, Lucas decided then that Cal had been trying to make a fool out of him, and embarrassment clouded his face.

"I'd not be made to be your entertainment," he said darkly. "Now answer my challenge."

That's what he'd been trying to do, in a roundabout way. But he needed a phone for it—and Mia was being decidedly uncooperative.

At the thought, a weight dropped onto his hand.

"Thank you," Cal said to the invisible girl.

"Where did you get that?" Lucas questioned, confused once more.

Cal ignored that as he navigated her phone. He tried not to snoop, typing in the number he was after—only for the phone to suggest a named contact.

"Did you really name him Bad Benny in your phone?" he asked, directing his question to the empty air. "I'll have to name you Mean Mia in mine."

After his soft chastisement, he clicked the call button, making sure it was on speaker. It started to ring, but it seemed his audience had grown impatient.

"Who are—

Cal raised a finger and was moderately surprised when it worked. The call didn't take long to connect, and he soon heard Benny's voice.

"P—"

"Hey, Benny," Cal said quickly, cutting off what was clearly Benjamin's address to his club president. "I'm about to raid the club room for supplies. How do you feel about heading into the city this weekend to restock?"

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The line went dead for a few seconds, presumably because Benny was thinking through his own busy schedule.

"We've been advised to stay on campus grounds," Benny said cautiously. "However, His Highness should be able to cover for my absence."

Didn't Evergreen put a stop to that? He should ask about that later.

"Alright. I'll pick you up in the morning and we'll knock it out early in the day." It would need to be, as he had to meet with Federation agents and an assassin later. "While I have you on the phone, I have a bit of a pickle here I could use your help with."

He felt somewhat bad taking advantage of Benny here, but it did feel justified considering the shitshow they'd been through.

"What ratios did you use to create the brine?"

Cal withheld a chuckle at the immediate follow-up. Perhaps he should have chosen his words more carefully.

"No brine, and this pickle is of the human variety," Cal said with bemusement. He eyed a paling Lucas. "Long brown hair, last name Fulgur. Wait a second, isn't that house in hot water right now?"

There was a pause on the other end, and Cal was starting to worry that he had overplayed his hand when Benny spoke next.

"The Myriad's defeat has raised questions about his suitability as a member of the Fingers," Benny said thoughtfully. "I would expect them to make moves to show their house remains strong."

Which was why Lucas was here, trying to punch down. Cal had gathered that much and figured there were enemies Lucas wasn't willing to make.

"That sounds fascinating," Cal said with mock intrigue. "I've got one itching for a fight in front of me—no doubt trying to prove their worth. I'm kind of a small fry, though, so I figured you could swing by and give them a real challenge. It's great timing, as you can tell the emperor all about it when you meet together."

Cal was speaking out of his ass. He knew that. Benny knew that.

Lucas didn't.

"That's within my capabilities," Benny replied almost eagerly. "You said you were at the club room?"

Benny's stock went up in Cal's book, and he stared at Lucas, forcing eye contact.

"Close enough," he said, injecting some malice into his voice. "Where would you say we are specifically?"

The question was directed at Lucas, who swallowed before giving a slight shake of his head.

"On second thought, we might be good here," Cal ventured, receiving a firmer nod from his current obstacle. "Yep, all good. Sorry for the false alarm. I'll see you this weekend."

He'd been about to hang up when he heard Benny urgently speak up.

"Callum, may I ask what you are doing with the president at this hour?"

Cal squinted at the empty space near him. That was a good question.

"Apparently, bullying someone. Now I gotta go. Bye."

He put a swift end to the call to ensure the right questions weren't asked.

"Pretty sure this is the part where you get out of the way," Cal said expectantly. "I can always call back if I have to."

Cal waved the phone around, eliciting a sound of dissatisfaction from Lucas. He smiled when the man stepped to the side, allowing him to pass.

Heh. Royal authority was kind of fun to swing around.

"Coward," Lucas spat in a low voice. "Such tricks won't always work."

Cal didn't look back as the pad began to rise, carrying them off the ground floor.

"You'd better hope they do," Cal muttered to himself.

Well, himself and Mia, who shimmered into place beside him.

"Next time," she said reassuringly. "You can punch him."

He gave her a double take, aware of how strange those words were coming from the girl. Was she compensating for something?

"Mia, the point is not to make a scene."

And he did a fairly good job of it. He hadn't seen a single person snap a picture of that encounter.

"There won't be."

It was said in such an authoritative way that Cal couldn't help the amusement showing on his face.

"No offense, Mia, but leave being scary to Benny. You're not good at it."

She looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Besides, Benny not physically being here, nor formally agreeing to anything, makes it so that this never happened. Which is a pretty nice way to avoid consequences."

At most, it cost him some goodwill that could be replenished this weekend.

Cal did his best not to focus on the intense look from the normal girl and set off as the pad reached his floor. He made it to the clubroom in short order, and the door was opened with little care.

Huh, this had the potential to be very awkward.

"You really need to get better at using your shell," Cal scolded the crying child.

Tears ran down the third prince's face. His cheeks were flushed bright red as he frantically tried to rub away his shame with his sleeve.

"Not like that," Cal instructed. He placed a hand on the kid's shoulder, pulling him away from the cutting board and toward a sink. "Splash some water on your face and breathe through your mouth."

Sebby followed his advice with a bit too much enthusiasm, dousing his head under the faucet.

"What type of vegetable would make you cry!" he complained sharply, blinking his bleary eyes.

Cal threw him a clean dish towel and then moved to finish up with the onions. His knife made quick work of them, and they soon joined the other ingredients in a pot.

"Don't disrespect onions," Cal said, brandishing the sharp implement at the boy. "They've done more for you than you could possibly know."

With his point made, Cal set the knife down. Placing his hands on the sides of the pot, he brought it to a gentle boil.

"The rice can be started now," Cal added. "Your magic or the stove, pick one but get it done."

Sebastian placed the cloth down, revealing a forehead covered in damp silver hair. He frowned at the towel before setting it aside. Approaching the already-prepared pot, he turned the dial to the appropriate level.

"I don't practice fire magic," he grumbled softly.

His loss then.

"Well, once the chicken is cooked, we'll shred it," Cal said, gesturing at his pot and then Sebby's. "After that, we combine the two together and voila, chicken and rice soup. Pretty easy, right?

That was the beauty of a good soup or stew. All they required was a few cut-up ingredients chucked into a pot.

"Apart from the vegetable that attacks you?" Sebastian groused, shifting away from Cal and dabbing his face with the towel.

"If you're defeated by an onion, that's a you problem," Cal advised sagely. He kept one eye on his pot and the other on the prince. "Now, do you want to explain why I found you squatting here?"

Cal hadn't asked questions when he'd first entered. He'd simply marched up to the fridge, decided what he was making, and tossed an apron at the boy to put him to work.

His words caused Sebby's posture to turn rigid, and he calmly set the towel down.

"I've been informed you recently returned from the Waste with my royal brother," Sebby said in a way that felt rehearsed. "And that it was an eventful excursion."

The pint-sized prince, it seemed, had ulterior motives.

"That's one way of putting things," Cal responded casually. "Did you hear that from Rolland himself?"

Sebastian didn't take his question well, turning away and avoiding eye contact.

"I've not seen him," the boy said with masked frustration.

Obviously, it wasn't hidden well enough if Cal was able to pick up on it. For no particular reason, Cal's eyes drifted toward an empty corner.

"How did you find out then?"

The list of people in the know was short. Benny would be the best candidate, but he was disincentivized from sharing anything that portrayed Rolland poorly.

"I have my sources," Sebastian said, projecting pride in his voice.

This family really was a mess. Cal would have loved not to stick his nose into it, but their dynamic directly affected the future of the Empire, which he'd already decided to influence.

"They must not be very good if you're trying to get it out of me," Cal openly observed, earning a tightening of Sebby's jaw. "What exactly is it you were hoping to hear?"

Their eyes met, but Sebastian broke the connection, preferring to study the simmering rice.

"The truth, naturally."

Cal highly doubted that, but he didn't hold it against the kid.

"What if the truth paints Rolland as a hero?" Cal inquired innocently.

"My brother is far too selfish to be a hero," Sebby snapped back. His furrowed brow smoothed, and he cleared his throat before continuing. "I realize that may sound harsh, but you must have observed the same, no?"

He had; it just felt wrong to badmouth the guy in front of his little brother.

"Who's asking?" Cal deflected. "You or someone else?"

Sebastian bristled, sending him a scathing look.

"What is it you're implying?"

Cal imagined that was meant to sound dangerous, but Sebastian's squeaky voice diminished the effect.

"I'm going to counter you with a series of simple questions," Cal stated bluntly. "First one, do you want to rule the Empire?"

Sebastian's eyes turned to pinpricks, likely caught off guard by how forthright Cal was being. These types of things were usually built up to.

"This isn't a trap," Cal emphasized. "Yes, I've hung out with your brother, but I don't answer to him. House Ardere has also been too irrelevant to pick any sides, so we're not beholden to anyone." Knowing that might not be enough, Cal tried to infuse his next words with as much sincerity as he could muster. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll give you my word that I won't share what you say here."

Cal directed his attention to a corner. This didn't sit completely right with him, but he felt this level of openness was needed.

The sound of boiling water filled the space as they stood in silence. Cal peered into the pot, taking a ladle and poking the chicken.

"I'm suited for it," Sebastian said, breaking their uneasy stalemate.

A bundle of carrot tops lay leftover from their prep. Cal grabbed a fistful and flung the leafy greens at Sebby, earning an indignant shout of alarm.

"That's not what I asked," he said as the prince tried to remove the feathery foliage from his hair. "Answer, or you get the onion skins next."

To make good on his threat, Cal began balling up the remains. Sebby's eyes flicked to him, watching as his arm pulled back. Cal held it there, sending the prince a pointed look.

"I do," Sebastian sniffed, lifting his chin. "Is that what you wished to hear?

"No, that's what I was afraid of," Cal shot back without hesitation. Before Sebastian could take it the wrong way, he pressed on. "When I ask, it's because I want to hear what Sebby wants—not what he thinks Cal wants to hear."

Sebastian opened his mouth, only to shut it promptly. He frowned at Cal, his face displaying a cocktail of emotions.

"Simple doesn't mean easy, kid," Cal offered sympathetically. "I'll give you a break. Let's assume you do. My next question is, why?"

The boy perked up, evidently feeling more confident with this one.

"My brother has been too forceful in his approach. His rashness has dishonored our ancestors and heritage. Moreover, he's alienated vital members of the Empire. If this continues, drastic measures will need to be taken to protect our legacy."

"Errrr," Cal mimicked a buzzer. "Wrong answer. I'm not asking why you'd be a better fit. I'm asking why you want the job in the first place."

Sebastian's frown returned with a vengeance. Cal didn't correct him as the kid picked up a ladle and started stirring the rice.

It was the kind of question people took for granted. From peasants in the fields to nobles in their studies, anyone could rattle off a dozen reasons why they'd want to be the head honcho of a country. Some would be selfish, others righteous.

"You don't like it," Cal said, shaking his head ruefully. "You know why you want it; you just don't like it."

Sebastian's largest worry should be picking where to sit at lunch. Or who to ask to an upcoming dance. It was cruel to pose these decisions to a kid.

"I'm a prince," Sebastian said derisively. "I don't answer to a count's son."

Cal didn't have to be a master of social cues to know he was on fragile ground now. That only informed his choice and didn't change it.

"No one is claiming you do," Cal said gently. "However, everyone answers to someone. Even that dad of yours."

Sebastian's expression morphed to askance, offended by the mere suggestion.

"Father is the Empire."

The implication was that he answered to no one. They both knew it was a lie—just not in the same way.

"And yet even he needs to look in the mirror."

Sebby jolted as Cal patted him on the shoulder.

"This isn't the type of rice you stir," he said, removing the ladle from Sebby's hand. "Now make yourself useful and grab bowls."

The kid stepped back from the pot, following Cal's instructions. His movements were sluggish, and Cal knew he was distracted.

A stack of bowls was deposited on the counter, and Cal grabbed what was needed from it, laying them out orderly.

"Chin up, kid. Demons—those out there," he gestured toward the window, then tapped the kid's chest, "and in here—don't have to be fought alone."

Sebastian didn't have anything to say about that, but his mind did fixate on an apparent mistake.

"You miscounted," the prince said, referencing the three bowls laid out.

Cal laughed, sending the corner a judgmental look.

"I'm not sure I did."