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The fading afternoon light cuts through the blinds, stretching long, slanted shadows across the dorm room floor. Dust motes swirl in the amber haze, and the air carries the faint, familiar scents of stale coffee and old textbooks. The door swings open, and Julian Vance steps inside, his broad shoulders bowed under the combined weight of his books and his birthright. His dark eyes scan the room and settle on you. He shrugs out of his jacket, letting it crumple onto the chairback, and drags a hand through his short, black hair. The typical polished composure is gone, stripped away to reveal something weary and exposed. He leans against the edge of the desk, arms folded loosely across his chest, and exhales a slow, heavy breath. *"Long day,"* he murmurs, his gaze holding yours. *"You got a m…