He drops beside me, and for a beat, neither of us moves. Finally, he breaks the quiet. “So… what’s going on?”
I don’t look at him.
He leans back, fingers tapping against the floor. “Atticus?” His voice isn’t accusatory, just… cautious. “Did he… lose it on you or something? I heard—”
I snort, cutting him off. “No. Atticus Willshire could never make me cry. Please don’t make this more embarrassing than it already is.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Then what is it?”
I steal a quick look at him, then give in. My voice comes out tight, like I’m testing it. “You already know I’m… sinless. But—did you ever wonder why I even got to come here?”
He frowns. “No, but now you’ve got me curious. Why?”
I tell him about my trial and what the Council decided.
“If I don’t develop a sin power by the end of that time, I’m exiled. With nothing.” I finish.
Maddox doesn’t look surprised at the ruling—but I see the way his jaw tightens, his fists clench. “That’s… rough,” he mutters, voice low.
I swallow hard. “Yeah.”
“Which way did my dad vote?”
“He followed Pride’s vote almost immediately.” I respond.
His expression hardens. Guess that answers that question for him.
So he had no idea about his father or the council vote. That’s… kind of comforting.
“I’ve been throwing myself into my courses, giving everything I have in sin training classes, staying up nights researching ways to get my powers to show… nothing.”
We lapse into silence again, the only sound being the faint hum of magical wards around the room. Maddox reaches over and grabs myhand, a rare gesture of solidarity. I can’t help the faint shiver of relief it gives me. Feeling his warmth.
After a while, he exhales. “I might have an idea.”
I look at him, startled.
He looks at me with his signature serious expression. “Remember that potion I owed you for helping me with tutoring?”
I blink. “Yeah…”
“I might be able to mix something to nudge your powers out,” he says, voice steady, precise. “But don’t get your hopes up too high. I’ve never heard of a potion like this. I don’t know if it’ll do anything. And even if it does… it’ll take time to make.”
I gasp, staring at him. “You… you would really try that for me?”
He leans back, expression unreadable. “If anyone can, it’s me. I’ve been working with rare potions longer than most advanced alchemists. I’ll give it everything I’ve got. That’s all I can promise.”
I swallow hard, feeling a surge of gratitude. This is… unlike him. Tough as steel, ruthless in every other part of life, and yet he’s here, offering me a lifeline. I can’t refuse. I throw my arms around him and hug him. “Thank you.”
He stiffens, letting me hold him but not returning the gesture, just standing there like the rock he is. “Don’t thank me yet,” he mutters, voice rough. “We’ll see if it works.”
I pull back, still holding onto his forearm. “Still… thank you, Maddox.”
22
Thou Shalt Not Cast Alone
Arwen
