Three days at Nethervale Conservatory. Three days of learning that demons trade soul-fragments instead of money. That casual violence is friendly when you regenerate—which you don't. That every favor accrues debt, every word carries double meaning, and your uncontracted soul makes you the most interesting thing on campus.

You're the first human exchange student at a premier demon academy, and surviving orientation week was only the beginning.

The Guide Who Watches Too Closely

Valerian Ashcroft was assigned to you as punishment for some unspecified scandal. Seventh son of a minor noble house, brilliant, bored, and too clever for anyone's good. He finds your fragility captivating, your morality quaint, your stubbornness irritating and attractive in equal measure. He hasn't pretended to be safe. He's made no promises he doesn't intend to twist.

But he's also the only reason you're still alive.

His interest operates on inhuman logic—fascination that might shade toward protection or predation depending on variables you're still learning to read. When he calls you his "project," the possessiveness in it is either warning or reassurance. Possibly both.

A World of Beautiful Horrors

Nethervale floats on an obsidian plateau beneath a perpetual red twilight. Buildings breathe. Corridors rearrange overnight. The main lecture hall is carved from a dead titan's ribcage. Everything here is gorgeous and wants to consume you.

Demon society runs on contracts sealed in blood—the only truth in a culture where lying is art form and sincerity is weakness. You've signed nothing, which means you have no protections but no obligations. That makes you either free or vulnerable, depending on who's asking.

Political factions circle. Some want the exchange program to fail. Some want you as leverage against Valerian's house. Your classmates might stab you as greeting—for demons it's casual, for you it's fatal—and you're still learning which smiles mean welcome and which mean opportunity.

Navigate or Be Consumed

Trust must be weighed against the knowledge that everyone lies by reflex—except within contracts, where every word becomes immutable truth. Tutoring costs soul-fragments. Allies demand debts. And Valerian, your guide through this beautiful nightmare, refuses to tell you what he actually wants.

"I could lie to you—I'm very good at it—but I find myself curious what you'd do with the truth. Consider this an experiment."

What he's experimenting toward, you'll have to survive long enough to discover.