The back corner of the Academy library was dead quiet. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight that pierced the gloom.
Genevieve sat at a heavy oak table. Her cheek was pressed flat against the hard, leather cover of a massive textbook titled History of Dark Magic. She was drooling slightly, fast asleep.
Rosalie marched down the aisle, clutching her notebook. She stopped at the table. She glared at Genevieve's peaceful, sleeping face.
Rosalie slammed her knuckles onto the solid wood table.
The loud thud jolted Genevieve awake. She snapped her head up, blinking against the light. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glared at Rosalie.
"What do you want?" Genevieve snapped, her voice thick with sleep and irritation.
Rosalie forced her face into a mask of desperate humility. She pushed the open notebook right under Genevieve's nose.
"Sister, please," Rosalie begged, her voice loud enough to echo slightly. "This extraction problem is too hard. Even Senior Dorian couldn't solve it immediately. Only a pureblood genius like you could possibly know the answer."
[System Alert: Flattery Trap engaged. If target fails to answer or reacts with anger, deduct 10 Prestige Points.]
Genevieve glanced at the page. The complex runes and formulas were child's play. She had mastered this exact extraction method three centuries ago. It was an outdated, overly complicated mess.
She opened her mouth to play dumb.
But out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement. Behind the nearest bookshelf, a sliver of a gray lab coat was visible in the shadows.
Dorian. He was spying on her.
Genevieve's brain shifted gears instantly. If she played dumb now, Dorian would know she was faking it. He was too smart. She needed to do something so absurd it would ruin Rosalie's trap, but keep her own lazy persona intact.
Genevieve let out a massive, jaw-cracking yawn.
She reached into the pen cup on the table and pulled out a thick red marker.
Without even looking closely at the page, Genevieve slashed two massive, ugly red lines right through the center of Rosalie's perfectly written formulas.
"Just cut the heat in half and drop in some mandrake juice," Genevieve mumbled, sounding like she was talking in her sleep. "Why are you making it so complicated?"
Rosalie stared at the ruined page. The red ink bled through the paper. She thought Genevieve was just scribbling nonsense to humiliate her.
Rosalie's heart soared with vicious joy. She opened her mouth to loudly accuse Genevieve of destroying her hard work.
Behind the bookshelf, Dorian stopped breathing.
His pupils dilated to the size of coins. His genius brain instantly ran the simulation of Genevieve's casual words. Cut the heat. Add mandrake. It bypassed the entire rune structure. It was a flawless, revolutionary shortcut.
Shock hit Dorian so hard his muscles spasmed. His elbow jerked backward, slamming into the wooden shelf.
A heavy, iron-bound encyclopedia tipped over the edge and crashed onto the floor with a deafening BANG.
Genevieve jumped in her seat, faking a startled gasp. She looked toward the shelf.
Dorian stepped out of the shadows. He didn't even look embarrassed about being caught. He lunged forward, practically sprinting to the table.
Rosalie saw him and immediately put on her victim face. "Senior Dorian, look! She ruined my notes-"
Dorian ignored her completely. He snatched the notebook right out of Rosalie's hands.
He stared at the red slashes. His hands were physically shaking.
"Brilliant," Dorian whispered, his voice trembling with raw awe. He looked up at Rosalie, his eyes burning with manic excitement. "Don't you see? The mandrake stabilizes the blood core! The heat reduction prevents the magical friction! It's a perfect, elegant solution!"
Rosalie froze. The fake tears in her eyes dried up instantly. Her face turned the color of spoiled milk.
[System Error: Target Dorian's reverence for Genevieve increased by 500%. Plunder completely failed.]
Genevieve watched Dorian lose his mind over a basic trick. She rolled her eyes and let out another loud sigh.
She reached deep into the pocket of her oversized dress. Her fingers brushed against a high-tier, incredibly pure blood crystal. Thank the ancestors I had the foresight to raid the Court's secondary vault before Lord Marcus officially cut off my supply, she thought with a mental smirk. It pulsed with dark red light.
She pulled it out and tossed it onto the table. It rolled and hit Rosalie's hand.
"That's the trash leftover from the last time I did it," Genevieve said, waving her hand dismissively. "Take it and go play somewhere else. Let me sleep."
Rosalie stared at the priceless crystal sitting against her skin. The sheer condescension of the gesture burned her pride to ash. Her hands shook as she grabbed the crystal, suffocating on her own greed and humiliation.
Dorian looked at Genevieve. He saw her absolute disregard for wealth and groundbreaking knowledge.
In his mind, Genevieve wasn't a piece of trash. She was an eccentric, hidden god, casually throwing miracles at mortals.
