"Interesting?" Arlo leaned forward, a grin on his face. "Let's hear it."

Ines and Noah but ignored him, staring at each other.

The princess knew what she was doing was dangerous. She was trying to unearth sealed information, but she didn't care. Her curiosity just won't let her stop.

Besides, she was the princess. If it ever created a negative outcome, what would be the punishment?

It would basically be a slap on the wrist.

But Noah wasn't taking the bait.

She raised a brow at him. "Don't you want to know?"

Noah shook his head slightly, a bored expression on his face. "Not really."

"But you're going to tell us anyway." Arlo grinned, not bothered by being ignored.

True to his words, Ines continued.

"The request came back empty." She said.

Noah could see it in her eyes. She was used to getting answers and this… it surprised her.

The fact that a wall of bureaucracy was actually stopping her from learning more about him.

"That's impossible," Arlo said before Noah could, a frown of confusion on his face. "The palace archives are a mess of old secrets. Someone would've filed something away. Especially since he's a summoned hero."

"No," Ines cut in.

Her fingers began tapping a slow rhythm on the table. "It's not that the archives failed. It's that the archives refuse."

"What does that mean?" Arlo asked.

"The reply came back flagged. The palace refused my request. They said the matter is under direct royal protection, and that only the Crown may release such records."

She paused.

"They said… they said his file is sealed by the King himself."

Arlo's grin slipped. He exchanged a quick look with Noah, eyes searching for some sign of jest. There was none.

"Protected by the King?" Arlo repeated.

His voice pitched a notch too high. "Protected how… why would the King…"

"Those are questions for the palace," Ines said, "but I was the one who asked."

"I thought I might learn whether you were a noble agent or like some students theorized, a secret Investigation Authority agent."

"I asked directly because it was becoming… peculiar."

She inclined her head. "So I will ask you, plainly. What are you, Noah Webb? Why was your file sealed?"

Noah's fork paused in the air, halfway to his mouth.

For a second, something like a smirk tried to creep back across his face.

It was a small, private amusement at seeing Ines' frustration.

But he swallowed it.

"You're asking the wrong thing," he said softly instead.

He set his fork down and folded his hands on the table, the gesture simple, and almost tired.

Ines leaned forward. "Then tell me the right one," she said. "Tell me who you are."

Noah's eyes slipped from her face to Arlo's for a fraction of a second.

For all their differences, both of them were still very young, very exposed.

He could have smiled. He could have turned the conversation into a joke and kept the mood light.

Instead he made sure to let them know they were playing with fire.

"If you two keep digging for information you shouldn't know," he said, "you will slowly find yourselves in a place where the powers of Camelot can't protect you."

Ines blinked in surprise. Of all the answers she'd been expecting, this was not it.

"I don't make threats," Noah continued. "Not because I don't have the means, but because threats serve little purpose."

"Consider this a warning. Those who pull at threads do not always unpick the weave they expect."

"Sometimes they unravel more than a single seam. Sometimes they pull at a corner and the whole building comes down."

He held both their gazes, one after the other.

"Do not become that person."

Ines's hands were folded so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn't look away.

"Are you threatening me?" she asked, not with accusation but with stunned curiosity.

"Are you daft?" Noah answered with a question of his own. "I just said it was a warning. So, why would you think it was a threat?"

He leaned forward. "If you ask questions like these where others can hear, you will not only upset the people who want silence."

"You will be making yourself visible to the things that will not be pleased at being noticed."

"Am I one of them?" He stood. "Who knows?"

Ines stared at him, eyes wide.

"You can ask your palace. You can shout from balconies. Or you can leave well enough alone."

He stepped backwards, the chair screeching slightly on the scuffed floor, and he met their faces once more.

"Either way, do not dig into things in which the consequences are greater than your capacity."

"You would not enjoy what comes after."

Then he turned and walked away.

[][][][][]

Noah entered the private training hall an hour later.

Only Damien was there. He was on the far side of the hall, shirt off, body glistening with exertion as he pushed through a long set of pushups.

The noble boy's head turned at the sound of the door, his eyes flicking briefly to Noah.

For a moment, they locked eyes, just long enough to acknowledge each other.

Then Damien gave a short, silent nod and dropped back into his rhythm, continuing his pushups.

Noah said nothing, walking to his usual corner.

He stretched slowly, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders.

Minutes trickled by. The sound of Damien's controlled breathing and the soft hiss of Noah's own warm-up were the only noises in the hall. Then, footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Arlo strolled in, blindfold as casual as ever, his satchel slung carelessly over one shoulder.

He was humming tunelessly, as if the tension in the hall didn't exist.

Behind him came Professor Cecilia, her stride confident.

She looked around, noting each of them in turn, and gave a satisfied nod.

"Good," she said, her voice carrying across the room. "You're all here. Saves me the trouble of dragging anyone out of bed."

Her smile curved with just a hint of challenge. "Today," she continued, "we're doing something different."

She stepped forward.

"Today, you three will be having a three-way training battle against each other."

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