"Three from our academy are out," Clyde said as soon as we changed and left the arena.
"Three dead?" Robert asked. "What about the other four?"
"Nine eliminated total," Kristina cut in before Clyde could answer. She shoved a plate of vegetables toward Robert, who was tearing through nothing but meat. "Seven dead. Two from our academy killed, one seriously injured. Three dead from Grandana, one dead and one injured from Margona, and one dead from the Dragnyl private school."
Lunch had been sent up to Clyde's room.
Robert and I tore into the food like starving animals while our "employers" calmly discussed who lived and who didn't.
"Could've been worse," Clyde said. "We still took the top two spots."
"Yeah," I muttered, chewing. "Good thing we were masked. Could've gone very differently."
"Yeah. Real lucky," Robert said, glancing at Silius. "Or not?"
"There are people among the organizers who… adjusted things a little," Clyde said.
"You knew what the first round would be like—and said nothing?" I snapped.
"What about the next rounds?" Robert pressed.
"Calm down. I don't know the details," Clyde said, irritation slipping through. "All I know is they might be able to keep Alan's identity hidden as much as possible. It won't make things easier—but it cuts down the risk tied to the Holivan name."
"Hidden?" I scoffed.
"Protected," Clyde corrected sharply. "From someone deciding your death shouldn't be left to chance. No one can fully control what happens in the trials—or outside them. This is the best we're getting. Maybe the first round already was."
"Alan's not an idiot," Robert said calmly. "He knows what he's walking into. He's not going to throw himself on a blade. Right, peacock?"
"Hey," I snapped. "I'm not planning to die here. So drop it. I've got another 'trial' coming up."
"The next round's tomorrow," Kristina said.
"I meant the reception."
I'd rather spend another day in that arena than a few hours surrounded by aristocrats.
I hated it.
And I wasn't even trying to hide it.
"Try not to look like you're heading to your execution," Clyde said, clapping a hand on my shoulder as we stepped into the banquet hall. "I hate this part too. You did well today. Remember that."
"Silius!" Director Gordinstrit called the moment we entered. "Over here."
Clyde changed direction immediately, heading toward a table where several directors were seated, their bodyguards standing behind them.
"Good evening," Clyde said with a slight bow.
"Sit," Amelia said. "Quite a few people are interested in your candidate."
Clyde sat.
I took my place behind him.
Every gaze shifted to me.
Cold. Measuring.
Unpleasant.
But one stood out.
Blocking.
He wasn't just looking.
He was picking me apart.
Slowly.
Like he'd already decided he would.
"Director Blocking," Clyde said coolly, catching it too, "has my bodyguard caught your interest?"
"My apologies," Blocking smiled, finally looking away. "He made quite an impression in the first round. And once I learned who was behind number thirteen… I couldn't pass up the chance to take a closer look."
"I noticed his ability as well," Clyde replied, his tone turning colder. "That's why I chose him. Your candidate did well too. Second place."
"Oh, come now." Blocking gave a soft laugh. "Compared to Alan Holivan, I'd be embarrassed to even mention mine. I was certain that grace belonged to a girl. I never expected Marcus Holivan's son to move like that."
His eyes returned to me.
Sharp.
Interested.
Unsettling.
"His father didn't look pleased," he added lightly. "Family ties aren't so easy to cut, are they… Alan?"
I glanced at Clyde.
A slight nod.
Permission.
"I cut those ties the moment I entered the academy," I said evenly. "I doubt Marcus Holivan cares about what I achieve—or what I don't."
"How bold," Blocking chuckled. "I like that."
He leaned back slightly, still watching me.
"But you're young. You don't understand how things actually work. People like us—the ones at the top—have less freedom than anyone. We don't choose our future."
A pause.
"And yet you decided the rules didn't apply to you. Tell me… how did they even let you in?"
"Gordinstrit accepts anyone willing to dedicate their life to protecting others," Amelia said calmly, cutting in. "His origin is irrelevant."
"Of course," Blocking inclined his head. "Still—a risk."
His gaze returned to me.
Slow.
Deliberate.
"Do you enjoy your new role, Alan?" he asked quietly. "Or would you rather be sitting here… instead of standing behind someone?"
"I chose where I stand," I said. "I don't regret it."
"We'll have to excuse ourselves," Clyde said abruptly, rising. "The next round is tomorrow. My bodyguard needs rest."
"He's still just a candidate," Blocking corrected smoothly.
"Not for long."
A faint smile touched Blocking's lips.
"Who knows what might happen?"
There it was again.
Not a direct threat—
but close enough.
"What exactly do you mean by that?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said lightly. "Just a thought."
"Enjoy your evening," Clyde cut in, already turning away. "Alan. We're leaving."
We walked out without another word.
"Hey—what are you doing?" I said once we were in the corridor. "You're supposed to stay."
"I don't like the way he looks at you."
"Everyone was looking at me. That's the point, isn't it? I got attention. What's the problem?"
He didn't answer.
Not until we were back in the room.
The door shut.
And then—
he moved.
Fast.
His hand slammed into my shoulder, driving me back into the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
"What the hell—" I tried to shove him off.
"Listen to me." His voice dropped—sharp, controlled. "He's dangerous. You don't get close to him. You don't talk to him. You don't even look at him unless I'm there."
"What is wrong with—"
"Do you understand me?"
The pressure tightened.
For a second, I said nothing.
"…Yeah. I get it. Let go."
He held me there a moment longer—
then let go abruptly.
Stepped back.
Ran a hand through his hair.
Dropped onto the bed.
Just like that.
I stayed where I was, staring at him.
What the hell was that?
"Go to sleep," he said finally, his voice drained.
I didn't argue.
I just turned and went to my room.