Arcus was in the classroom killing time before the next lecture when he picked up on some classmates praising another: Kane Lazrael. He looked at the object of their admiration. The young prodigy only had to enter the room for people to start gathering around him. His aether and abilities fed into his confidence, which in turn sometimes fed into his bearing. To others, that behavior probably came off as charming. Not to mention that he was naturally friendly, and it was hard to find fault with him. This only attracted people all the more.
Kane’s fiancée played no small part in his popularity. Amy Zeele, youngest daughter to the duke, was presently linking arms with him. There was a wide gap between viscount and duke, and their matching would have been scandalous if not for the influential Quorido Zeele’s insistence upon it. The duke must have had incredibly high hopes for Kane’s future.
It wasn’t just flocks of students that he attracted either, but lecturers too. No small number of the teachers had attended Harveston themselves, after all.
Kane had great grades, abundant aether, and countless connections. All that, and he had to be good-looking too. One offhanded glance could tell you the boy was on the express route to fame and fortune. The world was very much his oyster.
Of course, that wasn’t to say he hadn’t worked to get where he was, but it was undeniable that fate had blessed him. Arcus couldn’t help but wonder if he would have garnered such positive attention (though perhaps not as much), if only he’d had more aether. He sighed, watching the goings-on from a distance, before quickly straightening up as Kane began to approach.
“Are you taking the practical class next period?” he asked.
“The second one? Yeah, I was going to.”
“Nice. Hopefully it’s not just a lecture, and we get to cast some spells.” There was an earnest challenge in Kane’s expression. It was a surprising change from the approachable smile he had been showing his admirers.
For a while now, he’d made comments like this now and again. Arcus supposed that Kane had found common ground in their both being sons to martial viscounts. He didn’t mind it; he liked getting competitive, and their rivalry was free of malice. If anything, he considered it a chance to make friends with Kane.
When the boy returned to his seat, the clamor around him resumed. Some of his hangers-on were clearly looking to earn his favor, rather than genuinely admiring him, but he just smiled at them politely. He must have been used to that sort of thing. Amy, for her part, looked overjoyed. When she spoke, her voice oozed honey.
“Kane might become His Royal Highness’s attendant!”
The classroom exploded. Now everyone’s eyes, wide with astonishment, were centered on Kane.
“C-Come on, Lady Amy! It might not actually happen,” he insisted, flustered.
“Really? Father said you were a shoo-in.”
“Um, well...” Kane apparently didn’t know how to react in the face of this new information.
It seemed that Amy had only wanted everyone to know just how impressive her fiancé was. However, it was very difficult to justify spilling that kind of information to so many people.
When Kane received a curious question from one of the students, he responded bashfully, “My name was brought up to His Royal Highness a while ago...but just in passing.”
Now that Amy’s claim had been confirmed, the students erupted again. It was no wonder, given that it centered around the prince himself.
“An attendant to His Royal Highness!”
“I swear, Kane can do anything he puts his mind to!”
“You can’t tell me he’s not a Paragon of Courage at this point!”
Naturally, the news only drew more “admirers” out of the woodwork, and drew closer those who had been keeping their distance.
Speaking of...
Ceylan had implied that he was expecting more from Arcus in the future, but the last time they had met, he hadn’t given any indication as to what form that might take.
He might not have wanted to make me his attendant. He was probably thinking I could help out with other stuff.
Since he had fought alongside Ceylan, he had taken for granted that the prince meant to make him his attendant—or something along those lines. But now that he thought about it, it was far from the only possibility. Clerical work or magic consulting could both be in the cards, just for starters.
For Kane’s name to have been “brought up,” he would have needed the backing of someone with real pull, or the approval of other military houses. It took potent politicking. While Arcus had some connections that would help in that regard, they were few and far between. A future as Ceylan’s attendant probably wasn’t on the table. In all likelihood, Amy’s father would have been the one to suggest the prince appoint Kane. Arcus did get the impression that he was a shrewd man when they met at the launch party.
The student sitting next to Arcus was currently fawning over the viscount’s son at a distance, and drawing agreement from one Rusiel Arcane. He was the student who had previously filled Arcus in on the relationship between Kane and Orel. His dark hair was streaked with blue, and his droopy eyes gave him a vague air of drowsiness. He reminded Arcus slightly of one of the man’s friends, a listless bandsman.
Rusiel sat in the same part of the room as Arcus, and they took most of the same classes, so they had naturally started speaking more often. Rusiel’s father was a baron, which, broadly speaking, wasn’t too far removed from a viscount.
The languid boy leaned his chin on the desk. “What’s a guy gotta do to have things so good?”
“Beats me,” Arcus replied.
“Wish I had it that easy.”
“I dunno if Kane has things easy. He draws a crowd and earns opportunities because he works hard.”
“He’s been popular since Harveston.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Well, I guess some people are just effortlessly popular.”
“Right? Kane’s gotta be one of them.”
“Like I said, I think it’s because he works hard.”
Kane aside, Arcus could remember seeing such people in the man’s world: people who attracted endless attention and praise despite having done seemingly little to deserve it. In some cases, it was probably an illusion; they did say the grass was greener on the other side, after all. More than that, though, it probably had to do with a person’s friendliness, adaptability, and positivity. Or, indeed, effort that most people couldn’t detect.
“Anyway, he got in with a duke, got himself a fiancée, and now he might even be attending to the prince,” Rusiel went on. “That last one’d be too much work for me, to be honest.”
Arcus had to agree. Working at the palace would demand his constant attention. Rusiel, never one to keep his feelings of lassitude under wraps, probably wasn’t a good fit.
“What made you join the Institute, anyway?” asked Arcus.
“Me? I’m the youngest child in a house of officials. I’m gonna have to earn my own way. Dad’s connections got me into Harveston, which is where I learned how to use magic.”
“So you’re looking to pass the CSE?”
“Pretty much. Magic’s a pretty decent moneymaker, especially if you’re not that ambitious. Dad disagrees, though.” Rusiel let out a deliberately heavy sigh.
Arcus had the sense that his classmate worried he would be pushed into a political marriage, although he didn’t have any evidence to back it up. It was a rare noble who was able to choose their own marriage partner. That wasn’t to say the partners in an arranged marriage were destined to hate each other, but when they did, things could get very frosty indeed. In rare, fortunate cases, it could thaw over time. In the majority, it would take a vast climatological shift to move it an inch. That was how it seemed to Arcus, anyway.