I toss the sketchbook and pencil to the side and try to fish out the magical ring from the pocket of my jeans with trembling hands. As soon as the cool metal hits the warmth of my palm, I squeeze it tightly and lift it to my chest. My eyes flutter closed as I try to take deep breaths, focusing on my path out of all of this.
My witchy Aunt’s parting gift at my graduation dinner two weeks ago. “To create portals for emergencies only,” Deva said with a knowing look.
If I use it, I can be in New York before the placement ceremony even starts. All it takes is slipping out of this room, down two staircases, through to the north wing courtyard where I have enough room and privacy to conjure it without interference. With my luck, my parents would sense the energy the second I opened it in my room.
I have to take all precautions if I’m truly going to do this.
My hand tightens on my ring at the thought. All of the rules. The expectations. It’s suffocating.
A knock on the door jolts me from the sanctity of my mind.
“Briar?” Mom’s voice calls out, smooth as always.
She doesn’t raise it or let her annoyance bleed through. That’s how she always gets people to do what she wants. She’s perfected the art of giving off the kind of warmth you want to lean into, no matter the situation.
I quickly slip the ring back into my pocket and situate my sketchbook back into my lap before grabbing my pencil.
The latch clicks just as I knew it would, because privacy for me is optional to my mother depending on the situation. Steam spills out into the hallway as she eases the door open and steps inside. She closes it quietly, scanning the bathroom before letting her blue eyes settle on me.
“You’re going to be late, Briar patch,” she says softly.
Not an accusation, but a fact.
Usually the nickname softens me, but today it reminds me of the childlike image she holds of me in her mind. Annoyance flashes through me and the words fall out before I can think better of it.
“I’d rather walk in last and hope all of the open positions have already been filled by the people who actually want them.”
I force a tight smile to my lips, one that’s edged with a bitterness I’m tired of hiding. For so long I’ve let their love attempt to mold me into this picture-perfect daughter. The one who lives to make them proud, even if it means overlooking my own wants.
She ignores my snarky comment and moves closer, her black skirt whispering over the tile before she lowers herself beside me with perfect composure. The faint scent of her cherry blossom perfume threads through the lavender. “May I see?”
Somehow her calm energy only aggravates me further and I let out a heavy sigh. I turn the sketchbook toward her and her lips curve faintly. “Alexandra will love this. You’ll have to show her tonight.”
My eyes widen in excitement. “She’s coming? I thought she was busy with an assignment from Queen Ama in Hell.”
A spark of hope ignites in my chest. Maybe she can help me convince my parents that my plan isn’t a silly dream.
A chuckle falls from my mom’s lips, but it lacks warmth. Her head shakes as she mutters, “I wish you were that excited to see me, ever.”
“She’s the only one who understands why I’d rather be here than downstairs,” I murmur absent-mindedly as my eyes fall to my sketchbook.
Afterall, Alexandra created my uncles from writing them to life in her own journals. If only I could escape to my artwork in place of my reality.
“What is it you think I don’t understand?” my mom asks, an edge of incredulity in her defensive tone. “You know I was once your age as well and trying to find my place in the world.”
The steam curls tighter, wafting heavily between us. My grip on the pencil shifts, knuckles whitening. The reminder of her past only incites my anger further, knowing she was allowed to choose her future.
“That I don’t belong here in Sanguis and this carefully curated world you all have worked so hard to build between the slayers and vampires,” I fire back, my gaze locking with hers. “You know I want to go to Ordinarius. There’s a real art school there that is going to start an exchange student program for the magical, and I’ve read everything about it. It’s the first college to do it and I’ve seen the work their students do.”
Her body stiffens immediately and she climbs to her feet. She stares down at me, shaking her head. “Briar, we’ve talked about this. You can’t–”
“I’m serious.” My voice rises as I cut her off, matching the heat building in my chest. “I don’t want a placement here. I don’t want guard duty, or politics, or to be paraded at Council events like some rare jewel you all helped polish…I want something that’s mine alone.”
By the end, my words are barely a whisper.
She exhales, but there’s no softening in her gaze. “You may not believe it, but I’d love to see you follow that dream. Maybe one day, but for now you can’t go to Ordinarius.”
I push to my feet, tossing my sketchbook and pencil to the countertop before I throw my hands into the air. “Why? Because it’s dangerous?”
