I Raised the Demon Queen (Now She Won't Leave Me Alone)-Chapter 66 : The Quiet One

The second week at the Academy of Elemental Studies began with overcast skies, weak tea, and a lingering sense of judgment from Revantra's new roommate—a stubborn houseplant Elias had insisted on naming "Sir Fernsworth."

Revantra stared at it while brushing her hair into something vaguely presentable.

"Why does he have a knighthood?"

Elias, already halfway into his boots, shrugged. "He looks noble."

"He droops. Like a coward."

"He's doing his best."

So was Revantra. At least, that's what she told herself while navigating the churning tide of morning students, each one either too loud or too perfumed. Her own magic, restrained under layers of magical seals and her alias, pulsed beneath her skin like a restless heartbeat. Being "Rina" was exhausting. Being herself was... not an option.

Not here.

Not yet.

Magic Theory was held in one of the older halls, a long stone room with a vaulted ceiling, hexagonal desks, and windows that barely kept the cold out. Professor Linneus was the kind of instructor who spoke in hushed tones as if revealing ancient secrets, and students leaned in whether out of reverence or sheer confusion.

Revantra took her usual seat near the window. From there, she could ignore most people and most people, mercifully, ignored her. Except for one.

The boy sat three rows ahead and one column over. Always the same spot. Always silent.

Silver hair, long enough to brush his collar. Pale skin, almost translucent. And violet eyes—sharp, clear, and far too focused on her.

She noticed him the first time when she dropped her pen and felt the chill of his gaze before she even looked up. He didn't look away. Didn't smirk or blink or pretend he wasn't staring.

He just watched.

Revantra didn't like it.

Today was no different. As Professor Linneus drew diagrams of spell circuits in the air with glowing chalk, the boy's gaze drifted to her again. Unapologetic. Unblinking.

Revantra tried to focus.

"...when the mana lattice fractures," Linneus was saying, "the flow destabilizes, and you may find the spell collapsing into—Miss Rina? Could you finish the theory?"

She blinked. "Uh. Explosion?"

He nodded approvingly. "Precisely. Not always dramatic, but certainly unpleasant. I see you've been reading ahead."

She hadn't. But she accepted the praise with a curt nod and went back to ignoring the silver-haired boy.

Except now she couldn't.

Every time she shifted, she could feel him watching.

At lunch, she found Theo where she'd left him yesterday—tucked into a corner of the cafeteria, surrounded by pudding and books he had no intention of reading.

"He's staring again, isn't he?" she muttered as she sat.

Theo followed her gaze and blanched. "Oh. Him."

"You know him?"

"Kaleid. No last name. He doesn't speak much. Some people say he's descended from dragons. Others say he's cursed."

"Which is more likely?"

"I'm hoping cursed. If he breathes fire on me, I'll cry."

She poked her stew and made a sound of mild dismay. "I think he's trying to figure me out."

"Or he's socially maladjusted."

"Same thing."

Theo looked up from his pudding, face thoughtful. "Do you want him to stop staring?"

She hesitated. "Yes. Obviously."

"Because I think you're blushing."

"I'm not."

"Your ears are pink."

"They do that when I'm thinking."

"Thinking about Kaleid?"

She leaned across the table, eyes narrow. "Do you want to see what else I can melt besides training dummies?"

Theo raised his hands in surrender, mouth full of chocolate.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, Elias was discovering that adult employment was even more complicated in the capital.

His official title was "Field Mage Liaison," which basically meant he did everything from magical inspections to consultation reports to being someone's emotional support sorcerer during budget meetings. Today, it meant helping reinforce mana conduits in the West Wing of the city archives, a task only marginally more interesting than watching ice melt.

"Well, well," came a voice behind him. "You must be the new one."

Elias turned and found himself facing a tall woman in light mage armor, crimson runes etched along the collar. Her hair was a glossy blue-black, pinned up with ornamental rods. Her smile? All confidence.

"I'm Myra," she said, offering a hand. "Battle mage division. You're Elias, right?"

He took her hand. "Guilty."

"I heard you managed a five-layer ward with one glyph last week. That true?"

Elias shrugged. "It held."

"That's impressive. Most new hires are still using templated scripts. You might be more interesting than the archives, at least."

"Not a high bar."

She laughed, and the sound was easy. Familiar. The kind of laugh that lingered just a beat too long.

"So," she added as they started walking, "you seeing anyone?"

Elias nearly tripped over a stray spell anchor. "Sorry—what?"

Myra grinned. "You know. For lunch. Are you free?"

"Oh. Uh, no. I mean yes. I mean—"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'll take that as a maybe. I'll buy the first round."

He didn't know what the first round was, but the way she winked made him deeply suspicious.

Back at the apartment, Revantra was already home when Elias arrived, sprawled on the sofa with a book she was pretending to read. Her backpack lay open, and her uniform jacket hung off one arm like it had tried to flee and lost.

"Rough day?" he asked, toeing off his boots.

"There's a boy who keeps staring at me like I'm a puzzle."

"Do you want me to have a talk with him?"

"I want him to trip into a puddle and drop his books in front of the entire cafeteria."

"Ah. The mature route."

"And then I want pudding."

Elias went into the kitchen, still smiling faintly. He didn't mention the city mage who had definitely flirted with him. He also didn't mention that it had weirdly made him think of Revantra and whether she'd be annoyed if he dated someone.

Not that he was planning to.

Probably.

He returned with pudding and two spoons, plopped down beside her, and held one out.

"I'm not sulking," she muttered, taking it.

"Of course not."

"It's just... being around people is harder than I remembered."

"They don't bow anymore. Must be disorienting."

She laughed. "Exactly."

They sat there for a while in the soft silence of their too-small apartment, spoons clinking quietly, magic humming faintly in the floorboards. The city outside buzzed on, full of strangers and secrets.

And somewhere in that city, one silver-haired boy still stared.

To be continued...