“It’s not him we’re worried about,” Sly mutters under his breath, the first to break the silence.
Holly glares at him, as if he’d just blurted out something he shouldn’t have.
“You’re siding with him on this?” I ask, confused.
“We’re not siding with him at all.” Holly sighs and crosses her arms. “The spoiled prat can walk straight off the edge of the Wastes for all I care. We just think… maybe he has a point.”
“Why is Ryker suddenly in the picture?” Cleo adds, her voice slow and deliberate, like she’s afraid of setting me off. “Ryker isn’t known for being the best guy. Or for sticking his neck out for anyone. It’s just strange he would start now. We’re worried about his ulterior motives—and we don’t want you caught in the crossfire. I mean… a date with Ryker Blaise is an enormous deal and can have huge implications.”
I glance around. Tabby’s shaking her head. Brix hunches over, dragging a stick through the dirt like he’d rather dig himself a hole than sit through this conversation.
“Come on, guys,” I say firmly. “You know I’m not an idiot. I’m not some popular wannabe who thinks I’m going to end up Councilor’s wife. I know something else is going on here. Maybe Ryker just wants to get under Atticus’s skin, and I’ve been handing him the perfect opportunities to do so. I honestly don’t know.”
I pause, then add more quietly, “But he made a good point. Whatever his motives are, he still might pull some strings for me. He’s a Councilor’s son. He hates Atticus, and the enemy of my enemy is… well, maybe not a friend, but useful. I’m nowhere closer to activating my sin power than the day I got here. And we all agreed—me staying at the academy is priority number one. This might just be my back door if my powers don’t come in. I need every advantage I can get.”
“I know,” Holly says, the edge in her voice fading. “And we support anything that keeps you here. We just… worry. We don’t want to see you hurt. It’s a strange situation, Arwen. That’s all.”
“If there’s anything you know about me at all, it’s that I’m used to strange situations. You can trust me,” I promise.
I snort, trying to shake off the tightness in my chest. “I’ll be fine. Look at my life. The universe doesn’t suddenly start handing me convenient little gifts.” I roll my eyes, tugging my sleeve over my hand. “I’ll be smart. And I told him—this isn’t a date-date. Just… friends hanging out. That’s it. Nothing more.”
The tension eases, and the rest of the afternoon drifts into easy laughter. Brix tries to pitch us on yet another “brilliant new game,” and we all groan as he rattles off a list of rules longer than a textbook. By the time we pack up to head inside for dinner—and for me, my “friend date”—I feel lighter.
As we start walking, Brix’s hand closes gently around my arm. “Hey, Arwen. Can you hang back for a sec?”
“Of course,” I say, telling the others we’ll catch up later.
He waits until they’re out of earshot, shifting awkwardly before he speaks. “Look, I know you’re smart. You don’t need help with this… situation. Date. Whatever.” He grimaces like the word tastes sour, then shakes his head, his usual swagger returning. “But those of us from Furycliff—we’ve got to stick together, right? Watch each other’s backs.”
From his pocket, he pulls out a small bead threaded onto a thin strip of leather. He presses it into my palm. “I’ve been working on this in my enchanting course. It’s nothing fancy, nothing super powerful. But… it might get you out of a tough spot. If you ever need to get away from someone, just hold it tight and whisper ‘release.’ It’ll give a burst of power—to knock back anyone around you. Not for long, though, so… make it count.”
I turn the tiny bead over in my hand, throat tight, chest twisting like it’s being squeezed. Outside of Sadie and her family, no one’s ever given me anything. The heat behind my eyes burns sharp, a sting I can’t hide. He’ll never know what this does to me.
“Thanks,” I say, voice rough but steady. I press the bead into my palm like it belongs there. “I’ll keep it on me. This… it matters, Brix. More than you’ll ever know.”
We hug, and I let myself hold on just a moment longer than usual, soaking in his warmth. My friend. My anchor.
Then we head back toward the dorms together.
***
I stand on the casting field after walking my friends to the cafeteria. Lingering in almost the exact spot I’d been earlier, I watch the last traces of golden sunlight spilling through the courtyard stones. My fingers toy with the bead Brix gave me, the small leather cord running smooth against my skin. I don’t know what to expect tonight.
My attention jerks to the movement coming from the closest tower. Through the haze of the setting sun, Ryker strides toward me carrying- of all things -a woven basket and a folded blanket. The golden light of the setting sun spills across his bronze features, catching in his hair and highlighting streaks of gold and chocolate.
“Princess,” he says when he reaches me, that infuriating grin plastered across his face. “Are you ready for our date?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not a date. And you should know I really hate that nickname.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he answers with mock sympathy, though the grin doesn’t fade. “I meant… friendly get-together. Shall we… ‘non-princess’?”
Before I can even open my mouth, he’s tugging me down a narrow path that twists between the trees. Shadows press in around us, stretching long fingers across the dirt, and my chest tightens, nerves coiling in my stomach. The light vanishes faster than I expect, leaving everything muted and secretive. Suddenly, we step into a small clearing. My breath hitches, caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.
A pond spreads out before us, still and mirrorlike, edged with tall reeds. Soft lantern light floats along the bank—someone must’ve set them earlier—and fireflies weave glowing threads above the water. Frogs chirp in the distance, a low, steady hum under the quiet. The whole place feels… untouched. Private. Magical.
“Wow,” I whisper.
Ryker shrugs, though I catch the flash of satisfaction in his eyes as he kneels to spread the blanket.
