Royal Party

"Are you sure you won't need your cloak?" Gwen asked, her voice laced with concern as she adjusted the straps of her satchel.

Nate glanced at the garment in question draped over a chair, its deep hue contrasting sharply with the pale walls. "I'll be fine," he assured her with a flirty grin. "Besides, it's too nice a day to hide my charming self under a mound of fabric."

She chuckled, shaking her head at his bravado. "Just remember, charm doesn't ward off cold winds, Nate."

"Point taken, but I've endured worse than a brisk morning breeze," he retorted.

Once they were ready, Nate and Gwen exited the dorm, parting ways in the corridor with a promise to meet later. As Nate strode toward his private lessons, the corridors of the academy buzzed with the energy of students and the distant echoes of arcane practice. After completing his lessons for the day Nate made his way out of the hall.