I’d never flipped my TB around so fast looking for messages, but all I could find was my new schedule and more messages in my group chat. Nothing from the Architect or Rowan, although I had been hopeful about the latter. I’d probably be more likely to get a message from his saddle.
I’m okay. If I can crack a joke, then I’m still better off than before,I said to myself.
I rubbed the scorch mark etched into one corner as I read through the group chat. Brit and Joe had gone on a date. Everly needed a new dress, and Cayden told her a new brain would be more fitting.
I had friends. Life hadn’t suddenly stopped.
“I’m okay,” I said out loud.
“I’m okay too, if we’re bonding here.” Matt’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he extended his hand, slow and deliberate. “Now, polish some more, or hand it back. I think you like this, don’t you? Obeying. Taking orders, Quinn… it excites you, doesn’t it?”
I recoiled, and Matt laughed.
“Better get used to it, trainee.”
I bit my lips together. Ezra never placed me… did that mean, unlike everyone else, I was still on probation?
Matt tossed my TB up in the air. “The Architect’s awake now, and he always looks out for family first.”
I stepped into the castle’s only lecture hall, the same place Chancellor Morgen had refused to give me my imagination placement.
True to his word, Ezra had eased my schedule. I was still busy, but I now had a lecture with other people in the middle of the day, and I had no more one-on-one time with Hope or Chancellor Morgen.
Ezra and I hadn’t talked about that last night, but Cayden insisted I was being isolated, and when we returned from The Green, Rowan stood up for me. Ezra must have listened and adjusted.
My heart swelled. None of these men wanted to be my lover, but they were looking out for me in their own way, as if we were friends. Maybe the Spice Girls had it right. With the pop song now running through my head, I found Cayden madly waving. Cayden’s grin synced with the chorus, bright enough to outshine the flickering wards, and I made my way to his side, overlooking the sunken center of the room. Instead of Chancellor Morgen, Winston, the portly Friar Tuck from my first placement, adjusted a model skeleton hanging next to the lectern. His thin, bowl-cut didn’t move as his lemon-yellow magic swirled past him, lighting up different etchings on the bones.
Hopefully fake bones…
“That isn’t made of plastic, is it?” I asked Cayden.
Cayden’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “If it is, it’s worth a fortune. Look at the detail, I doubt anything like that survived the tremors.”
It had definitely been a person.
I stopped dwelling on the prop and turned to Cayden. “Need a crash course in critical thinking?”
I was joking, but part of me wanted him to say yes to anything I offered.
Cayden pursed his lips. “Yes.”
A happy wiggle shook my hips.
“And even if I don’t,” he continued. “Attending is part of my deal with Ezra. I do half of what he wants and half of whatever else I want. And I want to be here with you.”
My pulse tripped over itself. He said it like a promise, not a favor. I couldn’t stop the heat burning my cheeks.With me.
But notwith me, with me.
I rubbed my face and looked as far away from the Greek god of a mage who was not interested in popping my cherry. We had a bromance. It was that simple.
Winston let out a sharp whistle to grab the room’s attention. “Alright, everyone. Let’s keep digging into this idea of ‘open-mindedness.’ What it means, how it shows up, and how to stay receptive to feedback, even when it’s served with a side of attitude.”
“You wouldn’t know anything about attitude, would you now, Quinn?” The corner of Cayden’s mouth lifted; he enjoyed needling me, the bastard.
I bopped him on the arm while his ankle brushed mine again—lazy, confident, claiming without claiming.
I found myself tracing Winston’s steps as he paced and talked. Magic flew from his hands as he pointed and harshly judged Mister Bones, as he’d named his skeleton.
