Professor Marris doesn’t call on me or approach our table. But her gaze lingers more than once. Not unkind. Just...considering.
When the final bell hums through the room, students start packing up fast. The whispers spark again the moment chairs scrape back.
“Did you see?—”
“Twice in Combat?—”
My fingers tighten around my notebook. Before the knot in my chest can pull tighter, Nolan pops up beside me with exaggerated energy, slinging his bag over one shoulder.
“Well,” he says brightly, just a little too loud. “You survived. First Runic Arts class down. No one exploded. We’re calling that a win.”
A surprised laugh escapes me before I can stop it. He has a charm about him. It’s clumsy, but sweet, and I think I like that vibe.
He grins and offers a hand to help me up. “Come on. Lunch. You promised to walk with me.”
The words are easy, but the intent is clear. He’s distracting me on purpose. I tuck my notebook into my bag and take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. The warmth of the contact steadies something inside me.
We head toward the door, and Nolan’s already talking again.
“So, uh, pro tip? Don’t sit near the Fang table unless you like your food cursed. Also, if anyone offers you a drink with purple foam? Don’t.”
I shake my head, a small smile curling my mouth despite everything. Between him and Tamsin, I might actually like it here.
The dining hall is packed.
Long tables stretch from wall to wall under a vaulted ceiling charmed to look like a twilight sky today. Floating candelabras drift between the rafters, casting a warm gold glow. The air hums with low conversation, bursts of laughter and the occasional flicker of casual magic.
But the second I step through the doors with Nolan, a few heads turn. I catch the whispers under the noise.
“There she is.”
“Raiden was mad.”
“She has power.”
Nolan shifts beside me, fingers tightening on his bag strap almost as if he’s debating pulling me back out of the room. I almost suggest it myself, before I spot Tamsin waving from a smaller side table tucked near one of the stone pillars. Her grin is bright, eyes dancing.
Relief flickers through me.
“Lindsay!”
Grinning, I start toward her, but Nolan hesitates at my side.
When I glance back, he’s already turning, mumbling, “I should, uh—find my usual spot?—”
In his rush to get away, his bag swings wide and clips a floating trash bin. It wobbles dangerously, nearly tips. He catches it just in time, cheeks going pink.
I bite back a laugh; he’s so clumsy. “Hey, Nolan.”
He straightens, glancing over. “Yeah?”
I nod toward Tamsin’s table. “You want to eat with us?”
For half a second, surprise flickers in his eyes—then his face lights up.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
His smile is genuine now, voice steady. He falls into step beside me without hesitation. As we approach, Tamsin flicks her eyes from Nolan to me and back again, one brow lifting. Whenwe reach the table, she leans back in her seat, grin curling her lips up like a cat that just caught a bird.
