“Well, well. Look who you’ve recruited. A lowborn who has escaped overflow. Seems you can’t escape us completely after all.”
Nolan rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pink again. “Hope you don’t mind me joining.”
Tamsin laughs. “Relax, Nolan. You’re safe here. I don’t bite.”
Nolan manages a small smile. “Good to know.”
I slide into the seat beside Tamsin, and Nolan takes the chair across from us. Around us, the dining hall hums—clinks of cutlery, bursts of laughter, the occasional shimmer of magic from students showing off.
But a few glances still drift toward our table. A few too many whispers. I keep my gaze fixed on the worn grain of the table, pretending not to hear them.
“So.” Tamsin props her chin on her hand, gaze playful. “Nolan, are you trying to replace me as Lindsay’s best friend? Should I be jealous?”
Nolan flushes, but this time he manages a crooked grin. “Uh…definitely not trying. Just lucky enough to get invited to lunch.”
I smile, warmth blooming under the nerves. Best friend? Try my only friend.
Tamsin smirks. “Mmm-hmm. I see how it is.”
Nolan laughs, relaxing a little more. “Hey, if anyone deserves credit, it’s Lindsay. I almost dumped half a bottle of ink in her lap.”
I shake my head. “You were the only reason I didn’t ruin my first rune.”
He arches a brow. “Team effort, then.”
Tamsin chuckles. “Classic Nolan.”
Nolan groans. “Please tell me that’s not my academy reputation.”
“Could be worse,” Tamsin says with a wink. “At least you’re not the guy who set his own boots on fire on the first day.”
Nolan laughs, shoulders fully relaxing now. “Fair point.”
“But still, I’m the best friend. Or I will be.” She pushes a drink over to me and gives me an extra sandwich from her tray. “I’m at least making sure she’s fed. You, however, missed the servers, so you’ll have to get in line.”
She nods toward the back of the room, where a short line curls past what looks like a high school cafeteria counter—if high school cafeterias came with magically reheating trays and floating soup ladles. The smell isn’t bad. Familiar, even. Which makes it all the more surreal.
“Luckily, I brought my own food today,” Nolan says, reaching into his bag. He unfolds a napkin with flourish like he’s about to serve high tea, then plunks down a bag of Lays, a brownie, and a six-inch sub in actual Subway paper.
Okay. Sure. Real-world snacks in magic school. Why not just pull out a bag of Hot Cheetos and call it a spell ingredient.
“How in the void did you get human food?” Tamsin gapes at him.
“My uncle brought it last night,” Nolan says, a little smug. “Had to come through on business. Perks of being an envoy for the bloods.”
She snorts. “Guess you have to find them where you can.”
Their easy banter pulls something tight in my chest. For the first time since I landed in this spell-soaked fever dream of an academy, this feels…normal. Or it’s faking it really well.
I reach for my drink, but a flicker of heat prickles along the side of my neck. A magnetic kind of heat. I glance up, and of course, across the room, Raiden lounges at what I assume is the Fang table. Slouched like he’s half-asleep, one hand curledaround a mug. But his eyes—those strange, glowing gold eyes—are locked on our table.
I look away too fast. Take a sip of juice like it’s a life-saving potion. It’s not even good. Too sweet. Too warm.
Tamsin’s gaze flicks to me, just for a second. I expect a quip, maybe something biting. But she only raises an eyebrow before turning to Nolan, like she didn’t just catch me red-handed in a stare-off with a nightmare in a crimson robe.
But all she says is, “So, Nolan. What’s your next class?”
Nolan perks up. “Alchemy. Hopefully without setting anything on fire this year.”
