"She has advantages I don’t. Na recognition. Automatic support from much of Silver Crown’s upper years." Her blue eyes were cold, calculating. "Eliminating her as a threat won’t be easy."
"But not impossible," Alaric said.
"No. Not impossible." Verelia leaned forward slightly. "I have my own influence. Being the Duke’s daughter, connections to the royal court, significant resources. But the Glimor house is... more."
She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to.
"So the question becos," Verelia continued, "how do we neutralize that advantage? How do we make students see past the na and recognize that competence matters more than bloodline?"
Alaric was quiet for a mont, thinking.
"You can’t beat her on reputation," he said finally. "Trying to match her influence directly is a losing strategy."
"I know."
"So you don’t compete on that axis. You shift the battlefield entirely." Alaric leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Make this election about results, not connections. About what candidates can actually do, not what their families have done."
Verelia nodded slowly. "Force the conversation toward capability."
"Exactly. In debates, in public forums, in every interaction, emphasize concrete plans over vague promises. Make her defend her positions with specifics, not just rely on ’trust , I’m a Glimor.’"
"That addresses public perception. What about her support base?"
"Fracture it." Alaric’s mind was already working through possibilities. "She has automatic support from upper years, but that support isn’t necessarily strong. It’s convenient. If you can give them reasons to question that convenience—show them benefits of supporting you instead—so will shift."
Verelia pulled out a blank page and began taking notes.
"And we undermine her indirectly," Alaric continued. "Find her weak points. Not her family’s reputation, that’s untouchable. But her specifically. Where does she struggle? What mistakes has she made? What vulnerabilities exist beneath the golden na?"
"I’ll need ti to research that."
"We both will." Alaric stood, moving to the window. Outside, the campus stretched in afternoon sunlight. Students moved between buildings.
"This won’t be quick," he said. "Two weeks is tight. We’ll need to be precise. Efficient."
"I don’t do anything else," Verelia said flatly.
Alaric smiled slightly. "No, you don’t."
He turned back to face her.
"We’ll need to divide responsibilities. You handle the official aspects, debates, public statents, policy positions. Make yourself undeniable on competence. I’ll handle the unofficial channels. Social engineering, information gathering, strategic undermining of opposition."
"Agreed." Verelia stood as well. "When do we start?"
"Now." Alaric moved back to the table, pulling the notes toward him. "Walk through everything you’ve gathered on each candidate. Full details. Then we’ll prioritize targets and create a tiline."
Verelia sat back down, pulling her chair closer to the table.
For the next several hours, they worked.
Going through each candidate systematically. Identifying weaknesses, potential pressure points, opportunities for intervention. Verelia’s analytical mind and Alaric’s strategic thinking complented each other, she saw patterns in data, he saw how to exploit human nature.
They discussed debate strategies, ways to fra Verelia’s platform to maximize appeal while maintaining her authentic approach. They mapped out the student body’s social structure, identifying key influencers who could sway blocks of votes.
And they kept returning to Aurelia.
The biggest obstacle. The one who couldn’t be handled with simple tactics.
"We need more information," Alaric said as afternoon shifted toward evening. "About her specifically. Her habits, her relationships, her vulnerabilities. The public persona is one thing, but there’s always sothing beneath."
"I’ll use my family’s resources to gather what I can," Verelia said. "Discreetly."
"And I’ll work through Academy channels. Students talk. Information flows if you know where to listen."
Verelia nodded, making another note.
Finally, as the light outside began to fade, they reached a natural stopping point.
Alaric stood, stretching slightly. Hours of focused strategizing had left him ntally sharp but physically stiff.
"This is workable," he said. "Difficult, but workable."
"I don’t need easy. I need effective." Verelia gathered her papers, filing them back into the folder with ticulous care. "When should we et again?"
"Tomorrow evening. Sa ti. By then we should both have additional information to work with."
"Okay."
Alaric moved toward the door, then paused with his hand on the handle.
"Verelia."
She looked up.
"You can win this," he said. "But it’s going to require more than just competence. You’ll need to let students see that you’re not just capable, you’re the only real choice."
"I am the only real choice," she said matter-of-factly.
"Then make them believe it."
He stretched again as he stepped into the corridor, rolling his shoulders, tilting his head side to side to work out the tension from sitting still so long.
Then sighed and made his way down the stairs and out of the dormitory, drawn by the cooler evening air and the need to clear his head after hours of planning.
The gardens were peaceful.
Alaric rounded a corner near a small fountain and stopped.
Three familiar figures sat on a bench beneath a willow tree.
Elina. And two other girls, one with auburn hair and bright green eyes, the other with dark hair pulled into a practical braid.
A grin spread across Alaric’s face.
"Fancy eting you here, sister."
Elina’s head snapped up. Her eyes narrowed imdiately, expression souring like she’d bitten into sothing rotten.
"Oh, no, no." She groaned, clearly annoyed. "You’re going to ruin my entire day, aren’t you?"
"Alaric!"
Though Jasmine practically leapt to her feet, face lighting up with excitent. She rushed over and grabbed his arm with both hands, tugging him toward the bench.
"Co sit with us! We haven’t seen you in forever!"
"Jasmine, don’t—" Elina started.
But Jasmine was already pulling Alaric down onto the bench, positioning herself right beside him, still clinging to his arm with obvious enthusiasm.
Lily giggled softly, her eyes warm with amusent. She gestured to Elina, who was still standing stiffly a few feet away.
"Co on, Elina. Sit down. No need to fuss about it." Lily’s tone was gentle, teasing. "He’s just your brother."
Elina gritted her teeth, glaring at the sky as if asking the heavens for patience, then grudgingly sat back down on the far end of the bench, as far from Alaric as physically possible while still being part of the group.
Jasmine, anwhile, had not let go of his arm. She leaned against his shoulder slightly, beaming.
"So! Where have you been? We barely see you anymore. Always off doing mysterious things." Her green eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Are you plotting sothing exciting?"
"Just studying," Alaric said smoothly.
"Boring answer," Jasmine pouted. "You’re supposed to tell us sothing interesting."
Lily smiled. "Let him breathe, Jas. He just got here."
Elina crossed her arms, staring determinedly at the fountain as if pretending the rest of them didn’t exist.
anwhile back in the room...
Verelia stood by her window, curtains partially open, looking down at the gardens below.
She’d noticed movent and glanced out, just checking the grounds, nothing more.
And there he was.
Sitting on a bench. With three girls.
One of them was his sister, that’s what she knows already.
But the other two...
The auburn-haired one was practically draped over him, clinging to his arm like he might disappear if she let go. Laughing. Bright-eyed. Clearly enamored.
The dark-haired one sat close on his other side, smiling warmly, leaning in as she spoke.
Verelia watched for exactly three seconds.
Then she reached up and closed the curtains with one sharp motion, turned back to her desk and sat down.
"Womanizer."
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