Page 27 of Marrying My Professor

"Very," Julian agrees. "Which is why we're reviewing the matter now. If a member within Veritas, or an initiate orchestrated this, it's a violation of the Accord. Mule initiates are protected until they complete the trials. Killing one before they're named is grounds for expulsion."

"Or execution," Dominic adds cheerfully.

Nathaniel's gaze settles on me again. "Draven, you taught Brandon, didn't you?"

Fuck.

"He was in my Ethics seminar last spring," I say carefully. "Bright kid. Asked good questions. Kept to himself mostly."

"Did he ever mention feeling pressured? Watched? Hunted?" Nathaniel asks.

When you’re an initiate for the university they tell you all the faculty who are already Veritas so that you have allies and sponsors, and despite Brandon knowing my high ranking status in Veritas we never talked about it. We never talked about anything that wasn’t grades, or clarifying an assignment.

I shake my head. "Not to me. But I don't make a habit of getting involved in student politics."

"No," Nathaniel says. "You make a habit of avoiding Veritas business altogether."

The accusation hangs in the air. I don't rise to it.

Evander leans forward slightly. "Brandon kept meticulous notes. We recovered them after his death. He documented every meeting, every transaction, every favor his sponsor James called in. The boy was building a case."

"Against James?" Marcus asks.

"Against the entire Sovereign structure," Evander says. "He believed the trials were rigged. That legacy initiates were protected while mules were disposable. He was planning to bring it to the council."

"And James found out," I finish.

"We believe so," Nathaniel says. "Which brings us to the current problem. James is untouchable as long as we don't have proof. And without proof, we can't move against him without destabilizing the entire Bastard faction."

"So what's the plan?" Dominic asks. "Do we kill him?”

"No," Nathaniel says. "We watch. We wait. And when he makes a mistake—because he will—we bury him."

The meeting continues, details blurring into strategy and timelines and the kind of cold calculus that makes my skin crawl. I contribute when pressed, stay silent when I can, and count the minutes until I can leave.

But one thought keeps circling, sharp and insistent:

Brandon Hayes didn't kill himself. He was murdered. And the Order knew. They've always known.

And now, sitting in this room, I know too.

When Nathaniel finally adjourns the meeting, I stand quickly, already moving toward the door. Marcus catches my arm as I pass.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

"Fine," I lie.

He doesn't believe me. "If you need anything⁠—"

"I don't."

He lets me go.

I take the elevator back up alone, the bronze walls closing in like a coffin. My reflection stares back at me, and for a moment, I don't recognize the man I see.

Two more years, I remind myself. Seven hundred and thirty days to go.

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