Julian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He turned toward the heavy oak doors. "Get in here!" he barked.

Two academy guards pushed the doors open. They took one look at Gideon pinned to the floor and visibly swallowed hard.

"Get him down," Julian ordered, pointing at Kamari.

The guards rushed to the cross. They fumbled with the heavy iron keys. One guard grabbed Kamari by the bicep and yanked him forward to loosen the chain.

Kamari let out a low, pained grunt in his sleep. His brow furrowed deeply.

Julian's chest tightened. "Watch your hands, idiot!" he snapped. "If you break my toy, I'll take your arm as compensation!"

The guard flinched as if he had been struck. He immediately softened his grip, handling the unconscious boy like fragile glass. They lowered Kamari onto a canvas stretcher.

Julian followed them out of the dungeon and into the dimly lit underground corridor.

Footsteps echoed ahead. Three men in crisp black uniforms marched toward them. They wore silver badges on their chests-two crossed swords. The Disciplinary Committee.

The man in the front stopped, blocking the hallway. Vance. He looked at the bloody boy on the stretcher and smirked.

"Headmaster," Vance said, his tone lacking any real respect. "By academy protocol, this defective student damaged the warding barriers. He belongs in the Committee's holding cells now."

Julian remembered the book. If Kamari went to the Committee, Vance would torture him until his magic circuits permanently scarred. And Kamari would blame Julian for handing him over.

Julian stopped walking. He let the coldness of Benedict's persona wash over his face.

"Are you trying to tell me how to run my academy, Vance?" Julian asked softly.

Vance frowned. "It is Director Malachi's order. The protocol must be followed."

Julian stepped forward. He placed his body directly between Vance and the stretcher.

"Protocol?" Julian sneered. "I am the protocol."

He reached into his spatial ring. He pulled out a heavy obsidian seal-the Headmaster's absolute authority. He shoved it inches from Vance's face.

"Headmaster's override," Julian said, his voice flat and dangerous. "Kamari Monroe is my case. I am taking personal control."

Vance's face turned a mottled red. He stared at the seal, his jaw tight. "You will have to explain this to the Board of Trustees."

"Get out of my sight," Julian said.

Vance glared at him, then spun on his heel and marched away with his men.

Julian felt the tension drain from his shoulders. He turned back to the stretcher.

He needed the guards to spread the word that he was acting strange. He needed witnesses to his 'change of heart'.

Julian let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. He reached out and gently brushed the sweat-soaked silver hair away from Kamari's forehead. He let his face soften into an expression of deep, painful guilt.

"Why do you make this so hard on yourself?" Julian murmured softly.

The two guards exchanged terrified glances. The Headmaster was showing pity. It was unnatural.

Suddenly, Julian felt a violent flinch under his fingertips.

He looked down.

Kamari's eyes were open by a fraction. Through the veil of his silver lashes, those golden eyes were locked onto Julian's face. He had seen the guilt. He had heard the words.

Julian's stomach flipped, but he quickly pulled his hand back and straightened his posture.

Julian ordered the guards to take Kamari to the infirmary for basic bandaging. He immediately headed to the Headmaster's office.

He threw open the heavy wooden doors and went straight to the filing cabinets. He ripped out the student housing ledger and flipped through the thick parchment pages.

He found Kamari's name.

Servant Quarters. Sub-basement Three. Storage Room 4.

Julian's jaw clenched. He knew the book said Kamari lived in squalor, but seeing it on official paper made his skin crawl.

He left the office and walked down the spiraling stone stairs. The air grew colder with every floor. By the time he reached Sub-basement Three, the smell of mildew and raw sewage hit him like a physical wall.

Julian covered his nose with his sleeve. He walked down the narrow, dripping hallway and kicked open the rotting wooden door of Room 4.

There was no window. Water dripped from the ceiling into a rusted bucket. A single wooden plank covered in moldy straw sat in the corner. This was where the protagonist slept.

Heavy footsteps slapped against the wet stone behind him. The fat dorm manager came running, wiping his sweaty hands on his apron.

"H-Headmaster?" the manager stuttered. "What are you doing down in the muck?"

Julian turned slowly. He let the fury he felt for the original Benedict bleed into his eyes. He pointed at the wet straw. "This is where you put a special-admissions student?"

The manager recoiled. "But... but you ordered it last month, sir! You said to break his spirit!"

Julian swallowed the bile in his throat. He had to spin this.

"I told you to break his spirit," Julian hissed, stepping into the man's personal space. "I didn't tell you to drag the academy's reputation through the mud! If the outside world finds out we treat a Seraf-Kin like a stray dog, the Board will have my head. And I will have yours."

The manager's knees gave out. He dropped to the wet floor. "Forgive me! I misunderstood!"

"Pack his things," Julian ordered.

The manager scrambled into the room. He came out holding a single, frayed cloth sack. That was everything Kamari owned.

Julian snatched the bag, cast a quick cleaning spell over it to kill the smell, and walked away.

An hour later, the guards dragged a heavily bandaged Kamari up the stairs to the Headmaster's private obsidian tower.

They pushed open the heavy violet-and-gold doors. The suite was massive. Velvet rugs covered the floor. A massive fire roared in the hearth, throwing warm light across the room.

The guards gently placed Kamari on the huge, feather-covered bed.

The second Kamari's back hit the soft mattress, he violently recoiled. He scrambled backward until his spine hit the headboard, pulling his knees to his chest. He looked around the room like a trapped animal.

Julian sat in a single leather armchair across the room. He held a crystal glass of red wine. He kept his distance.

"You live here now," Julian said flatly.

Kamari's eyes darted from the roaring fire to the velvet curtains, then finally to Julian. His jaw ticked. A cold, mocking smile twisted his lips.

"What's wrong?" Kamari rasped. "Did the smell of the basement ruin your appetite for torture?"

Julian gripped the wine glass.

"So you brought me to a cleaner cage," Kamari continued, his voice dripping with venom. "What's the new game, Benedict?"

Julian wanted to scream that he was trying to give him a warm place to sleep. Instead, he took a slow sip of his wine.

"Think whatever you want," Julian said coldly. "But if you step one foot out of those doors without my permission, I will break both your legs."

The fire crackled loudly in the hearth, but the air in the room felt like ice.

Julian reached into his spatial ring. He pulled out a small crystal vial. Inside, a silver liquid swirled, glowing with concentrated magical energy.

The Astral Recovery Potion. It was the most expensive healing draught in the academy, capable of repairing torn magical circuits.

Julian set the vial on the wooden nightstand and pushed it toward the edge of the bed.

"Drink it," Julian said. He kept his voice hard, refusing to let it sound like a request.

Kamari stared at the glowing liquid. He didn't move a muscle. He pressed his back harder against the headboard.

"What's in it this time?" Kamari asked. His voice was a low, dangerous whisper. "Truth serum? Or Black Mamba venom to make my nerve endings burn?"

Julian rubbed his sternum. He felt like a man trying to feed a feral, starving wolf that was ready to bite his hand off.

Before Julian could answer, the heavy suite doors creaked open.

Gideon stood in the doorway. His right hand was wrapped in thick white bandages. He looked pale and terrified.

"H-Headmaster," Gideon stammered, holding up a stack of parchment. "The Board needs your signature on the incident report..."

Gideon's eyes flicked to the bed. When he saw Kamari sitting on the Headmaster's silk sheets, a flash of ugly, raw jealousy twisted his face. He quickly looked down.

Julian looked at Gideon. An idea sparked in his mind. He needed a witness.

Julian ignored the paperwork. He stood up, walked to the nightstand, and picked up the crystal vial.

He popped the cork.

While Kamari and Gideon watched, Julian tipped his head back and downed more than half of the glowing silver liquid.

The pure magical energy burned down his throat. The scorching power instantly rushed into his limbs and bones. The concentrated magical force violently crashed through his perfectly healthy circuits, causing an agonizing overload. His vision went completely black for a terrifying second. He swayed on his feet, his knees buckling slightly as a wave of intense vertigo hit him. A drop of silver escaped his lips and ran down his chin, staining the collar of his violet robe. Julian forced himself to breathe, desperately fighting down the nausea and the tremors in his hands. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He slammed the half-empty vial back onto the nightstand, using the desk to anchor his weight. The glass clinked sharply against the wood.

"Does that prove there's no Black Mamba venom in it?" Julian snapped, glaring at Kamari.

By the door, Gideon let out a strangled gasp. His eyes were wide with absolute horror. The Headmaster had just consumed a fortune in medicine just to prove a point to a defective servant.

Kamari's pupils dilated. His chest heaved. His brain was visibly short-circuiting.

"What do you want from me?" Kamari's voice shook. It was the first time he sounded genuinely unnerved. He could understand torture. He couldn't understand this.

Julian sneered to cover his own panic. "I want you alive. A dead toy is entirely useless to me."

Julian turned on his heel and marched toward Gideon. He snatched the paperwork from the boy's trembling hands.

"Have you seen enough?" Julian hissed. "Get out."

Gideon practically tripped over his own feet as he scrambled backward out of the room.

Julian slammed the doors shut. He stood with his back to the room, staring at the wood grain. He listened.

For five agonizing minutes, there was only the sound of the fire.

Then, he heard the soft scrape of glass against wood. He heard Kamari swallow.

Julian closed his eyes and let out a silent breath.