“Always. It’s the kind of initiative Professor Thaddeus notices.” She turns a page with deliberate precision. “He mentioned you and Nina had... interesting perspectives in ethics class the other day.”
The way she saysinterestingmakes it sound likeproblematic.
“He discussed us in another class?”
“His advanced studies group.” She switches highlighters, each color perfectly organized. “Callie and I both attend,naturally. Oliver Thorne as well. Your names came up on Friday afternoon during a discussion about unconventional thinking.”
Of course Callie’s in the advanced class. Of course they discuss first-years like specimens.
“That’s...” I search for a neutral response. “Nice of him to notice.”
“Thad appreciates students who challenge the norms. Theoretically, obviously—neveractually.Although sometimes what first-years consider revolutionary is simply naive.” She makes another note in her perfect handwriting. “Real ethical complexity requires understanding nuance while examining hypothetical situations, not just questioning everything for the sake of creating a commotion.”
Condescension drips from every word, but there’s no hint of Friday night. No recognition of the electricity crackling across my skin, and her accusation that I was using devil’s magic.
I start gathering my books. “Right. Well, I should let you get back to your... nuanced studying,” I say, ready to get away from her before she has a chance to whip out her dagger on me for the second time this weekend.
At least I have my dagger on me this time, so I’ll be ready to fight back with the little skills I’ve learned these past two weeks. Which, to be fair, isn’t much, minus the sheer luck I had while fighting the Lampades with Logan. And that wasn’t really luck as much as it was Logan guiding me through everything I needed to do.
“One moment.” She looks up at me, all wide-eyed and innocent. “Since you’re here, I should mention—Logan and Callie have been working through some things. Privately.”
I roll my eyes. Because of course she brought me over here to mention this, since she doesn’t remember doing it the first time.
Her gaze sharpens as she observes my reaction. “It would be best if certain first-years didn’t misinterpret his professional obligations.”
My spine stiffens. “Professional obligations?”
“The proctor position requires availability to all students.” Her sugar sweet smile does nothing to hide her condescending thoughts. “Some people, however, mistake that accessibility for personal interest. It’s embarrassing for everyone involved when boundaries are... misunderstood. Wouldn’t you say so, Jade?”
Heat floods my cheeks. But I refuse to let her win.
“Thanks for the concern,” I manage, my voice steady despite the electricity begging to spark at my fingertips. “But I can figure out boundaries on my own.”
“Can you?” She tilts her head, studying me in that unnerving way of hers. “Because from where I sit, you seem to be struggling with quite a few. Social hierarchies, magical limitations, appropriate study materials...” She gestures at my books. “Perhaps focus on catching up with basic curriculum before diving into advanced topics you can’t possibly understand.”
Each word lands like a precision strike.
She might not remember attacking me, but she doesn’t need to. Her everyday cruelty is sharp enough.
I stand, clutching my books to my chest. “I’ll keep that in mind. Enjoy your studying.”
“Oh, I always do.” She’s already dismissed me, returning to her color-coded notes. “Do be careful with those heavy books. We wouldn’t want you to overextend yourself.”
I escape before the electricity can force its way out, before she can see how her words hit their mark. Because Logan’s compulsion worked completely. No cracks, no bleeding memories. It should be a relief. But as I dump my books on the return cart, all I can think about is Logan and Callie “working through things.” Privately. The way she touched himat the Forge Night party. And how I haven’t heard from him all weekend.
It’s like he’s forgotten I exist entirely.
My hands shake as I leave the library, and this time it’s not from fear of Lampades.
It’s from the sick feeling that maybe Alessandra’s words hit closer to the truth than any compelled memory ever could.
JADE
By the timeMonday’s classes end, I’ve been turning over every detail I found in the library about the Lampades all day, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something crucial.
Logan will have answers. And proctor hours are held after classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. So, obviously, I bolt to the administrative building after my final class. It sits separate from the classrooms and dormitories, all stone walls and arched windows that catch the late afternoon light.
Logan’s the only student who has an office here. Perks of being the student proctor, apparently. However, unlike the other doors in the hall, Logan’s is closed. No light spills from underneath, and no sounds of conversation drift through.
