The Academy’s hum settled back into something closer to steady, as if satisfied it had made its point.
But then I saw Celeste.
She stood just inside the sitting room doorway now, Twobble hovering at her side like a sentry. Her face was pale, eyes fixed on Gideon with a mixture of anger, fear, and something worse—resignation.
And in that instant, I knew.
He could not stay here.
Not like this. Not where she could see him. Not where every step he took reminded her of what he’d done. It would be akin to getting back on the same stretch of road where someone already crashed into you once.
As people began to disperse, voices low and hurried, I felt the decision lock into place.
“Wait,” I called, and everyone stopped.
I stepped forward, heart pounding, and lifted my chin, turning not toward the people but toward the walls themselves.
“I respect you,” I said aloud to the Academy. “I respect your choices and your wisdom. But I have a daughter.”
The Academy’s hum deepened, attentive.
“She went through something deeply traumatic because of Gideon,” I continued. “I cannot subject her to living under the same roof as him. Not while she’s healing. Not while she’s learning to trust this place and to trust magic.”
Silence pressed in.
“I’m not refusing your will,” I said carefully. “I’m asking for a different arrangement. Let him stay at the cottage. Away from her. Close enough for you to watch him. Far enough for her to breathe.”
The stone beneath my feet warmed, and the great doors shuddered once.
But then, they slowly opened in agreement.
Relief flooded through me so quickly I nearly fell to my knees, but it didn’t last.
A subtle shift followed, the air charged again, and a presence brushed against my thoughts with a condition.
Nova’s voice echoed faintly from somewhere deeper in the Academy. “There is a catch.”
Of course, there was.
Skonk groaned. “I knew it.”
“The Academy requires oversight,” Nova continued. “Gideon will not be unattended.”
My stomach dropped.
Skonk blinked. “Wait. Oversight as in—”
“Yes,” Nova said calmly. “You.”
Skonk stared. “Me?”
“And Ardetia,” Nova added.
Ardetia stepped forward, serene as ever. “I accept.”
Skonk looked between her and Gideon, and back at me. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
“Probably not,” I said, managing a weak smile. “Think of it as… character growth.”
