By the time the heated bickering between the three had finally settled it was already morning.
The exhaustion of the night's chaos clung to the room, yet the tension had long since faded into something else—a lingering curiosity, a subtle shift in thought.
The Dean stretched slightly, suppressing a yawn before muttering—
"It's time for my early morning sleep."
Her tone carried nonchalance, as if the entire night had been nothing but an extended form of entertainment.
Just as she turned to leave, Frederick's voice rang out, his words uncharacteristically steady—
"I will return to teaching."
Hamiel, standing near his desk, carried the expression of a man who had lost a long battle—worn, mildly frustrated, yet somehow contemplative.
But the moment he heard Frederick's words his head tilted slightly in quiet surprise, even the Dean who turned sharply, watching Frederick with a new kind of intrigue.
Her eyes narrowed, curiosity evident in her tone as she questioned—
