What in the gods was that?
The prince dropped my wrist in an instant, but it was too late. We’d felt… something.
I waited for him to speak, but he seemed unable to in the silence that followed.
Should I leave?
“I helped you because you have potential.”
He was watching me with an odd light in his eyes. There was nothing hostile, nothing condescending in the way he was looking at me now.
Stop staring at him. But I couldn’t.
“You are meant to be here, Ryiah.” Darren ran a hand up his neck, and for the first time, he looked out of sorts. “You are… You are possibly the one good thing about this place.”
I didn't know how to respond. All I knew, during that moment, was that his eyes were the most interesting shade of garnet I’d ever seen. I’d always thought they were so dark they were almost brown, but now I realized they were ebony, somewhere between the pitch-black of night and the mahogany of a rich wood.
Gods, how was I just now noticing how disturbingly attractive Darren really was? Why did it have to be him? Why was I feeling lightheaded and weak, like I wanted him to say something more? Why was he still watching me, and why was I incapable of looking away?
“T-thank you.” I swallowed, again and again. “For what you just said, even if you didn't mean—”
“I meant every word.”
Darren took a step forward. I took a step back. And then he took another.
This time I didn’t move.
We were standing too close. I knew it. He knew it. And we just didn’t care.
“Rest assured you’re not one of my conquests, Ryiah.” He’d said that once. But what if I wanted to be now?
There were shadows dancing across the prince’s face. “I am going to do something against my better judgment,” he said softly. His eyes were like two embers as he reached down to put one hand against my waist and the other underneath my chin. “You can scream obscenities at me after.”
And then he kissed me.
It was a long, slow kiss, one that sent chills from the stem of my neck to the very tips of my toes. It burned hot and then cold, making me dizzy and weak.
My knees buckled and I gasped.
Darren chuckled softly as his hand steadied me in place, pressing the two of us against the rough sandstone walls.
I started to pull away, but then he increased the intensity of his kiss… and I lost all will to move.
After a minute or so, the flood of emotions receded just long enough for me to react with a startling fervor of my own. I found myself kissing Darren back, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting myself fall into the moment.
He was consuming me, and I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t enough.
The prince jerked back, sooty lashes shading his eyes as he regarded me in surprise. His chest rose and fell against my own, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.
Gods. Was this why all the girls chased after a prince? For the first time, I understood.
And then the moment came to a halt. The library door crashed open to reveal an oblivious boy and a pile of scrolls.
Darren released me and staggered back as I steadied myself against the wall. My cheeks were burning and neither of us could look at the other.
I was too afraid of what I would see if I did.
There was a growing collective of voices coming from down the hall.
“Ryiah, is that you?” My brother turned down the passage with the rest of our study group.
I flushed and looked to Darren, but he was gone. The door to the library swung shut with a loud bang. The lanky first-year and his scrolls were all that remained.
“What happened?” Ella’s eyes shot between the nameless boy and me. Her scrutiny didn’t miss my red face.
“I… I have to go. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t say anything else. I stumbled past my friends to the barracks without another look back.
What in the name of the gods just happened?
I ARRIVED at the barracks to find the one person I least wanted to see.
Priscilla.
She shouldn't have caught me off guard, but the memory of what had just happened in the hallway minutes before was still too fresh in my mind. Seeing Priscilla, the girl who everyone believed was intended for the prince, left a bitter taste in the back of my mouth.
What does he see in her?
Priscilla smirked when she saw me enter the room. “You still haven't left, what a shame. I’d have thought a week would change your mind.” She was braver when we were alone. “We already have our five apprentices,” she added. “You’re just wasting your time.”
“I'm not going anywhere.” My fists were clenched at my sides. She had picked the wrong night to pick a fight.
“You should.” The girl held up an elaborately designed dress to her chest and looked at her two friends. “What do you think? My father had the seamstress make this for me. It's perfect for the post-trials ceremony… Do you think Darren will like it?”
The girls fell all over themselves with compliments.
My jaw clenched. I couldn’t believe the prince would care about a dress; she was just doing this to provoke me.
Priscilla gave me a sly smile. “Don't worry, Ryiah. No one will see you wearing another ratty hand-me-down for the ceremony. Only the apprentices are noticed.”
“The masters would never be daft enough to give an apprenticeship to a girl like you.” I was growing angrier by the second. “We both know you are only here to play a part.”
One of her friends laughed unexpectedly, only to quickly cover it up with a cough as Priscilla glared at both of us.
“For a commoner, you certainly think highly of yourself. Don't get any delusions, Ryiah. Sir Piers may have believed in you once, but that was before the mid-year duels. You’re worthless now.”
Her words had a truth that bled, and for a moment, I was tempted to tell her what her precious prince had done. She already hated me, so what was stopping me?
Don't be a fool. You know perfectly well that would be a mistake.
Rather than continue the unpleasant exchange, I headed to the baths.
By the time I returned, Priscilla and her friends were long gone, leaving me alone to the silence of an empty barracks.
Good. The last thing I needed was more time with that witch.
Everyone else was still out, studying, dining, or enjoying one last night of freedom with friends. I should’ve been doing the same, but I wasn't ready to face the prince. What if I ran into him in the library or the armory? What could I say?
I'd been kissed before.
In Demsh'aa, there’d been a boy… but there had never been a spark, no sense of worlds colliding when his lips had brushed up against mine.
Darren's kiss tonight had everything Jayson's lacked.
It’d made my legs weak and my lungs burst.
I didn’t even know I could feel so many things.
Jayson had held me gently, as if I were a doll he hadn't wanted to break. Darren had acted impulsively, kissing me like he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. He hadn't asked permission. He'd taken it, and for some inexplicable reason, I’d let him.
And then I’d kissed him back.
The mere fact that I had liked Darren's kiss was upsetting enough. That my body had betrayed me and acted on its own accord was unfathomable.
There were a thousand reasons why kissing the non-heir, or letting him kiss me, was a mistake. He was a prince. He was fickle. He was rude. He was arrogant. I knew better. I was lowborn. He was wrong.
I didn't even like him.
Or did I?
And what about Priscilla? Almost everyone in the Academy, including myself, assumed she and the prince were set to be betrothed and that it was only a matter of time before the engagement was announced.
What was Darren thinking now?
Was I just another conquest? Was that what I wanted? Gods knew I hadn’t pulled away or asked questio
ns.
Had Darren been testing me?
I'd seen the look in his eyes when he realized I was kissing him back: shock.
What if the kiss was a joke? A horrible, cruel, sadistic joke?
I slammed my fist into my pillow. Blast the prince for being so unreadable. I never knew when to take him at his word, let alone his actions.
Don't trust them, and you can't get hurt. Wasn’t that what Ella had told me that day after she saw me arguing with Priscilla and Darren? She'd never told me what happened back at court, and now I was unable to think of anything else.
It doesn't matter what Darren meant by that kiss. I marched out of the barracks and into the snow. I was far too restless to sleep. You are here for one reason. That reason was never a prince.
I would fight for an apprenticeship and forget everything else.
12
The academy had a longstanding tradition of hazing. I found this out the hard way.
It started three days after our break.
The first time it happened, I didn’t think anything of it. If more first-years were taking trips to the infirmary, it was because the pressure was more intense. We were into the second half of our year and Combat was cutthroat. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to need a healer once or twice a week.
But then it became an everyday occurrence.
A fire casting sent in the wrong direction? An accident. A not-so-dull blade ramming through flesh and bone? Another accident. Jake and William casting a fissure during our daily runs so that a younger boy pitched forward and broke both arms when he hit the ground? Definitely not an accident.
A first-year spent twelve hours with a healer, and then he resigned the next day. That wasn’t an accident.
A couple days later and there was a similar incident in Alchemy. Half a week later in Restoration.
By the second week, we’d lost a couple more and I’d finally had enough.
“I’m going to report it.” Hazing was a tradition, and I could understand its appeal. The first-years left had withstood the Academy’s rigorous demands; they wouldn’t be swayed by our training or the masters for the rest of the year; they would need an extra push to resign now.
But that didn’t mean highborns like Jake and William should be the ones to set the terms. It didn’t take much to see that the best in each faction were targeting the ones that threatened their rank. For the most part, that meant the ones with the private schooling and tutors were hazing the lowborns advancing faster than the rest.
I wanted students to leave too. It would better everyone’s odds. But I wanted it to be on their terms, not the privileged.
A part of me wondered if the prince was involved, but I couldn’t bring myself to check. Darren and I had avoided each other since that night in the hall, and I wasn’t sure whether I should be upset or relieved. Ella claimed she’d spotted him with Eve the times the others struck, but that didn’t mean he didn’t play a part.
“Reporting it would be a bad idea, Ry.”
“Why?” I turned to Ella in a huff. “If the victims don’t report it, they’ll just continue until there’s none of us left. The masters need to do something.”
“Trust me, they know.” Her expression mirrored my frustration. “They just don’t care. It’s been going on for years. They have a similar practice in the other war schools and even the girls’ convent in Devon.”
My brother guffawed. “It’s not right.”
Ruth slammed her book shut with an exasperated groan. All of us were studying in our usual nook. “If you tell, the others will call you a snitch. Do you really want to be their next victim?”
“I don’t care what the school thinks of me. It’s not right!”
Ella nudged me with her boot. “It’s a supported tradition for a reason, Ry. Mages don’t ask others to solve their problems, and hazing is just another way to weed out the weak. Don’t give the masters a reason to think you don’t belong here.”
I hated to admit it, but she had a point. Still… “So I’m just supposed to watch?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Ella grinned. “We can definitely give them a reason to think it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
Excitement bubbled up. “What do you have in mind?”
“Let’s give them some accidents of their own.”
“I love the way you think.”
“I love the way you love the way I think.”
Alex snorted. “You two are going to get yourselves caught.”
“They are going to target you next,” Ruth added. “Is that really what you want?”
I thought for a moment, but the answer was already waiting on the tip of my tongue. “I’m lowborn, and Priscilla hates me. It’s only a matter of time before they try.”
“Well, I don’t care if they go after me.” Ella wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Because I’ve got this one to help me retaliate.”
“I hope you two know what you’re doing.”
“We don’t, but that’s part of the fun.”
The next day, the two brothers tried another “accident” and ended up in the infirmary instead. Their victim, a brawny lowborn who’d beat William in an earlier sparring match, never even knew she’d almost found herself on the receiving end of their newest attack.
Turns out, I liked leading the hazing a lot more than I thought.
A couple days later, Ella and I redirected another highborn’s casting from the back of the library. She’d been trying to sabotage a younger boy. We enjoyed watching her wonder why her magic wouldn’t obey.
After two more incidents, the hazing changed. Perhaps the others had grown weary of hurting themselves, but they’d resorted to more appropriate pranks.
Ella and I were almost disappointed.
A boy in Combat woke up screaming to a hoard of snakes hiding out in his bed. One of Priscilla's friends, the girl who had laughed at her expense a week before, found all her belongings drenched in what I could only assume was a slimy mass of fish guts.
“You know it's going to be us soon.” Ella eyed Priscilla as we sat down for the evening meal. Two more weeks had passed, and Combat was running out of first-years who hadn’t been hazed. Only one of their victims had left since their practice changed, but it didn't mean the hazing was any more pleasant.
“I miss the older hazing. No one is leaving now.” Ruth pushed some braised vegetables around her plate. “I need the best odds I can get.”
“You’re highborn.” Clayton scratched his neck. “It’s different for the rest of us. We deserve to last the year.”
She narrowed her eyes. “If you are afraid of a bit of trouble, you shouldn’t have joined the Academy.”
“Hey, hey.” Alex spread his arms out on the table. “Let’s not fight.”
The pressure was getting to all of us.
James ducked his head. “Odds are what brought on hazing in the first place.”
“You have no room to talk.” Ruth rolled her eyes. “There are only ten of you in Restoration left. We’ve more in Alchemy.”
Ella groaned. “I wish we had ten. Those are much better odds than thirty-three in Combat.”
“True enough.” Ruth sighed. “I hate to say it, but I’m glad I’m not Ryiah. They are probably saving the worst for her.” She gave me a look. “No offense.”
Ugh. I groaned. I didn’t want to think about a bunch of snakes in my bed. I’d already lost enough sleep over the prince. Now I was keeping both eyes open in the barracks for pranks. I could only imagine what Priscilla or Jake had in store for me. I’d seen them watching me in the last couple of days.
“Why do you think they are after her?” Alex blinked. “They never found out what she and Ella did.”
“Because Priscilla hates your sister.” Ruth stared at my brother. “How have you not noticed that?”
Alex shrugged. “I thought it was the prince. He went after her during orientation.”
I stared at my plate, using my fork to stab small inde
nts into a slice of roasted potato.
“Ryiah?” Ella prompted.
I glanced up. “Right. Probably them both.”
I excused myself, promising to meet up with Ella for our nightly practice outside the armory. I needed to stop by the barracks first; I’d left one of my books behind.
The last thing I wanted to do was discuss the prince. Even the mention of his name brought back memories of that night, and I didn’t want to remember it.
Yes, I'd enjoyed that kiss, but I was mortal. It wasn’t a crime, just a lack of judgment on my part.
“Ryiah?”
I almost jumped out of my skin. Leaning against the wall was Darren. I hadn’t seen him until he spoke.
My heart began to beat wildly as blood rushed my face. I’d done a good job of avoiding him for weeks, and now in seconds, I was undone. I didn’t like this effect.
Was I excited? Petrified? Was it possible I could be both?
Best to appear unaffected and aloof.
“H-hey.” Well that failed.
“Can we—” The prince’s eyes darted across my face and then to the wall; he looked guilty and pale. “—can we talk? Outside?”
“I… n-no. I have s-somewhere to be.” I was headed to the barracks, but if he was headed there too, I was going to find a new destination inside. Was a book really that important? Not if it meant going somewhere with him.
There were too many risks. The worst one being I would let him kiss me again.
That I might wish he would.
I bit down on my lip as I stepped back the way I had come.
Darren reached out. “Wait!”
My eyes caught on his, and he pulled back a second before our skin touched. There was a flare of recognition that stopped him from taking my hand.
For a moment, the two of us just stood there in silence.
Gods, a part of me wanted to ask him about that kiss. He was staring right back, and I could see questions written across his face. He wanted to ask me too.
I parted my lips.
“What did you—?”
“Go back to your friends, Ryiah.”
What?
First he wanted to talk, and now he ordered me away. He looked away. Was he really that ashamed of me?
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