“Exceptionally gifted?” she supplied.
“Yeah.”
The corners of her mouth curved slightly.
“That does not surprise me, considering Sten possesses an intimate connection to celestial magic.”
She paused.
“Being a descendant of Máni.”
The name hit something inside my brain immediately.
Not fully.
Not clearly.
But enough to make me freeze.
Where had I heard that name before?
The word curled through my thoughts like smoke, stirring half-remembered memories.
Stories.
Books.
Something old.
Something mythological.
The professor turned slightly, robes shifting in the wind.
“Oh,” she said lightly, glancing toward the distant towers of Runevald, “look at the time. I’m due elsewhere.”
And just like that, she was leaving.
I stared after her.
Confused.
Because that had not felt accidental.
It had felt deliberate.
Like she’d wanted me to hear it.
Wanted me thinking about it.
Which only made me more suspicious.
It was considered deeply inappropriate at Runevald to discuss another student’s lineage or supernatural heritage openly.
Power was personal here.
Bloodlines, even more so.
So why would she casually reveal something like that?
