“Go up there,” he hisses, and I’m moving on autopilot.
I stand. People clap.
Across the room, Elethior stands, too. Everyone else remains sitting so it’s impossible to look anywhere but at him as the two of us converge on the podium.
His face is impassive—until our gazes connect.
That wrath he’d shown in the restroom surges to life, wildfires running rampant.
I’m lodged too firmly in shock to do anything more than gape at him.
There was always going to beone grant winner. It was me or Elethior and it would’ve shut at least one of us up for good.
We reach the podium, and Davyeras pulls us on either side of him. The audience claps still, and a photographer takes pictures of the three of us.
I tell myself to smile.
Nope, not happening.
“Uh, sir—” I start, throat still sandpaper so it comes out scratchy.
Davyeras squeezes my shoulder. Hard. “I know it’s unorthodox,” he says out of the side of his mouth.
Elethior hears him, too, briefly glancing across to give me another cutting glare.
Davyeras catches it and sighs. “This community has no room for juvenile conflicts, boys.” He smiles at me, then at Elethior, and more photos are taken. “You will work together. As part of the grant, you will have monthly check-ins with myself and your advisors to ensure progress is being achieved. I am excited to hear how you tackle this challenge. This is a great honor, and a testament to how much faith we have in each of you.”
I expected to feel one of two things after the announcement: ecstasy or fury. I have no idea what to do with feeling…numb.
I got the grant. I got funding—morefunding.Anda dedicated lab space. I’ll be able to do my project and graduate. My future’s being handed to me.
Only I’ll have to work withElethior Touraelto get any of it.
Chapter Three
Sebastian—
I understand your concerns regarding your required partner. I myself partook in many a good-natured ribbing with the Conjuration Department during my time as a student. The fact that the selection committee not only saw value in your project, but in YOU, speaks volumes of your character and skill. Do not risk your future over this.
I look forward to hearing of your progress at the first monthly check-in,
Professor Thompson
Basically,Suck it up, Sebastian, you’re being a child.
I would, however, like to point out that my issues working with Elethior have almost nothing to do with him being in the Conjuration Department—I’m notthatmuch of a dumbass. As I told Thompson, myvery valid and professional concernsstem from working with someone who represents magical corruption and elitism, the polar opposite of everything I stand for.
But Thompson seems unable to comprehend anyonenotbeing over the moon to rub elbows with a Tourael, which means he’s determined to view my concerns only as the result of a petty interdepartmental rivalry.
I swing back and forth in my desk chair, staring at my laptop, trying to decide how professional it would be to send back an email saying,But I don’t WANNAAAAAA.
The floor outside my bedroom creaks and I swivel on Orok, nearly upending myself from the rickety chair.
“I’m not being childish. He’s a Tourael,” I tell him, like he doesn’t know, like I haven’t been having this argument with him and myselfsince I got home on Friday, and it’s now Monday, and the semester is over and he’s officially stuck with me for the next few weeks. “That’smy problem. He’s going to take what will now beour projectand dump it into the Tourael magical defense conglomerate, and it’ll be used to hurt people. Clawstar will see I’m working with a Tourael and think I’ve crossed over to the enemy. My research, my work will be tangled up inTourael shit,and I get no say in it.That’smy problem, and it’s not a childish concern. Right?”
Orok’s checking something on his phone, but he flicks his eyes up to me. “No. It’s not a childish concern.”
“Thank you.”
