Chapter 7: The Noble with No Reputation
Morning sunlight filtered through the dormitory windows, casting soft gold across the polished wooden floor.
Noel stood in front of the tall mirror, still toweling off his damp hair. The bath had done its job. His body felt light again, the aches and cuts of the last few days reduced to fading memory.
The briefcase on the bed sat open, its contents neatly folded.
He reached in and pulled out the uniform.
Dark navy coat, tailored to precision. White button-up shirt with a silver-accented collar. Slim black tie. Clean, durable trousers. Everything smelled faintly of enchanted starch and cold magic—like the wardrobe of someone important.
He dressed without ceremony.
One piece at a time.
Shirt. Tie. Coat. Gloves. Boots.
When he finished, he looked at himself in the mirror.
And blinked.
The man staring back didn't look like someone who had slit throats in a forest three days ago.