Moonveil Academy: Trapped With The Five Kings

Chapter 32: The Headmaster’s Office

Elara:

I quietly closed the door behind me before allowing myself to take in the office properly.

It was even larger than I’d imagined. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined two of the walls, every shelf packed with ancient-looking books whose leather spines had long since faded with age. The remaining walls were decorated with paintings of landscapes I didn’t recognize and portraits of stern-looking men and women dressed in clothes that looked centuries old.

A large stone fireplace occupied one corner of the room, though no fire burned inside it. The scent of old parchment, polished wood, and freshly brewed tea lingered pleasantly in the air, making the office feel less intimidating than its size suggested.

My gaze wandered through the room until it finally landed on the man sitting behind the enormous mahogany desk near the windows.

Lorien Moonveil didn’t notice me immediately. Or perhaps he had, and simply chose to finish what he was doing first.

He was bent slightly over a stack of documents, a fountain pen moving steadily across the paper as he signed one page after another with practiced ease. The setting sun spilled through the tall windows behind him, painting everything in warm shades of gold and amber. For some reason, the entire scene looked... peaceful.

I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped walking until several seconds later when he placed the pen down, closed the folder, and finally looked up. Those familiar blue eyes found mine almost instantly. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of surprise in them, as though he had known exactly where I had been standing the entire time. Without saying a word, he rose smoothly from behind the desk and gestured toward the seating area on the opposite side of the office.

"Please." His voice was as calm as ever. "Have a seat."

I quietly crossed the room, my footsteps almost disappearing into the thick carpet beneath my feet. Settling onto one end of the long cream-colored couch, I instinctively looked back toward him while he walked around the desk. Only then did I truly notice something.

He looked... different.

During our previous meetings, he’d always been dressed impeccably in perfectly tailored black suits that somehow made him seem even more like a CEO than a headmaster. Everything about him had been polished and composed.

But today, the suit jacket was gone and so was his tie. Instead, he wore only a dark chocolate-colored silk shirt with the top two buttons casually undone. His sleeves had been rolled neatly to just below his elbows, revealing strong forearms that somehow made him look far less formal than before. Even his silver hair had changed. It was still neatly styled, but a few loose strands had escaped and now framed his face, softening his usually composed appearance. Without the layers of formal clothing, he looked younger somehow and more approachable. And unfortunately... even more handsome.

I immediately scolded myself.

Seriously, Elara?

My entire internal monologue needed professional help. I had not come here to admire the Headmaster’s appearance.

I straightened slightly just as he reached the seating area, carrying what looked like an incredibly old and thick book bound in dark blue leather. He placed it carefully on the coffee table before lowering himself onto the couch opposite mine. He leaned back comfortably, resting one arm along the backrest as though this wasn’t a formal meeting at all.

For a brief moment, neither of us spoke. Then he looked at me and asked, "How have you been adjusting to the academy?"

The question sounded simple enough. But answering it was another matter entirely.

I could have told him about the students who looked at me as though I didn’t belong. About Reign. About Alaric messing with me with his fire. About the girl being bullied. About Professor Fenrith refusing to continue my special lessons. About the nightmares that were growing worse every night. Or about how lonely this place truly felt.

Instead, I offered the safest answer I could think of.

"I’m trying."

His blue eyes rested on me quietly, long enough that I became strangely aware of my own heartbeat. It almost felt as though he could see straight through the carefully chosen words. As though he knew "trying" wasn’t remotely close to the whole truth. Yet, he didn’t press me.

"I’m glad to hear that." His voice remained gentle. "These sessions with me are separate from your regular education." He lightly rested one hand on the ancient book lying between us.

I nodded, listening carefully.

"They exist for one purpose. The seal."

My attention sharpened immediately.

"As Professor Elowen explained during your assessment," he continued, "the foundation of Late Queen Seraphina’s seal consists primarily of two elemental affinities - Ice and wind."

I looked at him silently.

"My own elemental affinity is wind." He folded his hands loosely together as he continued, "Which means my magic resonates more naturally with one of the primary components used to create your seal."

Realization slowly dawned on me. "So, you think you can break it?"

A faint smile appeared on his face. "No. I don’t intend to force it. Doing so would risk damaging both the seal and the person carrying it." His expression became thoughtful. "What I intend to do is encourage it."

I frowned slightly. "I don’t understand."

"If you have inherited your mother’s wind affinity, my magic may encourage your own dormant wind element to respond." He spoke patiently, never making me feel foolish for asking. "If that happens, the seal may gradually loosen on its own."

"And if nothing happens?" I asked, wanting to know the other side of the coin.

"Then it simply means you inherited different elemental affinities. There are still other possibilities."

I slowly nodded before asking, "So, this might take a while?"

"A few sessions." He smiled faintly. "Or many. We won’t know until we try."

Before I could ask anything else, he held out one hand toward me. "May I see your hand?"

I hesitated only briefly before extending my right hand across the coffee table. He didn’t touch me immediately. Instead, his own hand hovered several centimeters above my open palm.

Almost instantly, I felt that familiar pleasantly cool sensation of his magic. It felt like standing beneath the shade on an autumn afternoon while a gentle breeze brushed across your skin. The strange sensation lasted only a few seconds before disappearing completely.

I immediately looked up at his face only to find him frown almost imperceptibly before he let out a quiet sigh.

"I’m going to need to touch you." His eyes met mine. "May I?"

The simple question caught me off guard again. He always asked. Every single time.

I gave a small nod.

"Yes."

Only then did he gently place two fingers against the inside of my wrist where my pulse beat beneath the skin.