The Last Godfall: Transmigrated as the Young Master

The carriage rolled to a stop at the academy gates. Vencian stepped down, his coat falling neatly into place as he crossed into the grounds.

The campus was livelier than the day before. Students moved in clusters along the paths, voices overlapping in quick bursts of chatter. The air carried a restless weight, as though everyone had woken with more energy than they knew what to do with.

Students watched him as he walked. Some looked away when he noticed, others stared openly. He ignored them all. His expression fixed in its usual calm.

The path toward the classroom stretched ahead, but he had not gone far before a voice rang out above the noise.

"Vencian!"

The single call cut through the bustle, sharp enough to turn more heads than he wanted.

His eyes scanned the line of students until he found the source—Elías Zarionel.

Vencian's lips twitched. He knew the boy well. Elías was a friend, or at least he had been. Whether that still held true, Vencian could not say.

Hesitantly, Elías pushed his way through the passing students. His eyes dropped for a second when he met Vencian's before steadying again. "Could we talk?"

Vencian allowed a pause to stretch between them before answering. "It's a long walk to the classroom. If you can manage it while moving, then speak." He resumed his pace without waiting.

ElÍas walked beside him, adjusting his robes. He cleared his throat. "I wanted to say… I'm sorry. For everything that happened with your family. For how I acted. Or rather lack of any act. I should have—" He cut himself off, his jaw tightening. "I should have done more."

Vencian kept his eyes ahead, boots tapping against the stone path. His thoughts drifted back to what he knew of Elías Zarionel—the seventh prince of the realm. The two of them had grown close only after entering the academy, finding a shared ground in being of the same age and driven by a similar purpose. Both had brothers destined for power, which left them in search of their own place through study.

Still, Elías had always been different from the rest of his family. Different enough to enroll in Ralan, far from palace comfort. That choice alone separated him from his siblings.

Elías lowered his voice as students jostled past. "When your father was accused, I thought of asking mine to intervene. But… I couldn't. You know how it is. I couldn't even bring myself to stand in front of him with that request."

Vencian felt no pull to respond right away.

Forgiving easily was never in Vencian's nature. Still, pushing away a prince outright held little benefit. Weak or not, a prince could still be useful when the time came.

Vencian weighed the moment and what lay ahead, then chose his course and spoke.

A humorless sound escaped his throat. "So you kept your silence."

Elías nodded, chin dipping. "I did. And I regret it." His words picked up speed, as though he feared losing the chance. "I don't want that to stand between us. Whatever friendship we have—I don't want it to break because of my failure."

Vencian glanced at him briefly. The prince's expression was tight, shame written across it, but Vencian weighed it carefully.

"You're saying you regret it." His tone was flat. "But what do you expect of me to say, your highness?"

Elías flinched. "I expect nothing." He shook his head quickly. "Only that you hear me. I couldn't move against my father. I know that makes me weak. But I don't want you to think I abandoned you willingly."

They crossed into the courtyard, surrounded by the noise of passing groups. Each word risked being overheard, yet Elías pressed on, voice lowered to a strained pitch. "I meant it when I said I don't want this to poison everything. If you'll allow it, I'd like to start over."

Vencian let his silence stretch again. A group of younger students passed by, their laughter too loud. When it faded, he stopped, forcing ElÍas to stop with him. His hand landed on the prince's shoulder, keeping his face serious.

"Let me make this clear, Elías." His words were measured. "I would never forgive you…"

He let the pause hang just long enough before adding,

"…for turning every talk into a dramatic monologue." A smirk tugged at his mouth as he gave the prince's shoulder a light pat before resuming their walk.

Confusion was written all over Elías's feature.

"I'm only messing with you, Elías." He maintained his pace. "You don't need to apologize for what happened."

Finally realization dawned upon Elías. "Angel's above, Ven! You fucking scared me for a while there." He swung a light punch at Vencian's shoulder.

"Language, your highness."

Elías's shoulders loosened as if he had been holding his breath. A faint, unsteady smile flickered across his face. "You are right. I'm a prince."

Vencian tilted his head slightly, offering nothing more.

By the time they reached the classroom door, the flow of students had thinned. Elías stopped, straightened, and met his eyes again. "Thank you, Vencian."

Vencian held his gaze. There was no mistaking it—ElÍas had seen through his act. The prince recognized his attempt at levity but seemed grateful for the chance to continue their friendship.

Strange, Vencian thought, that a prince would cling to such a bond with him.

Perhaps it was because my inheritance of House Vicorra was almost guaranteed, making me a valuable ally. Or perhaps Elías truly meant it.

The line between the two was too thin to trust.

Paranoia stirred at the rim of his thoughts again, yet he allowed it. It was useful. It kept him cautious and prevented him from mistaking sentiment for truth. To him, suspicion was no flaw but a safeguard, the force that made his decisions sharper.

He regarded the prince one last time, unreadable as ever. Then, without a word, he pushed the classroom door open and stepped inside, closing off the conversation as if it had never happened.