His blinks told Lory Aiden had no idea what she was talking about. “You mean you attacked him?”
“Guardians no, because that would make him look weak if he can’t fight off the attack of an ashling.” Lory shook her head, more at herself than at him. “He toldthem I tried tokisshim.” Her last words were a whisper, but the way a few of the ashlings in the row in front of them turned their heads informed her she hadn’t been as quiet as she’d hoped.
“You what?” Eira Moonfell wanted to know, exchanging a glance with Tabi and Jarek, who were sitting next to her.
“Nothing.” Lory waved her off, but Eira’s face had gone pale, and Tabi’s expression of disbelief made Lory want to sink into the ground.
“I didn’t want to believe them when they were talking in the hallway, but?—”
“It’s not true.” Lory mentally dug in her heels. Oh, that prick really knew how to ruin her day.
“So, the Veiled Hand is lying?” Eira seemed to actually hope he was.
It was going to be a long day. “I didn’t kiss him. Ask Frost. He was there.”
All eyes turned to Aiden, who had folded his arms over his chest, cocking his head and giving them all a look daring them to do just that. The tattoo behind his ear drank up the light falling in through the windows, the form of it better visible with the way he exposed the side of his neck. Something like a dragon, but not quite… Lory decided it didn’t matter as long as Aiden held his tongue about her magic or told the truth about the kissing part.
“Did she?” Thal joined the conversation, and Lory wished she hadn’t chosen this particular chair, or she’d at least kept her temper under control for a little while longer.
Aiden flashed a menacing grin. “Why? Jealous?”
That wiped the curiosity right off Thal’s face, replacing it with a pink flush before he caught himself. “For getting a taste of that hunk, damn straight I am.”
Lory had never been more grateful to anyone than she was to Thal in that moment when he got up from his chair and leaped across the back of it to sit on Lory’s other side. “Tell me all about it. If I’d kissed that incredible mouth, I might have gone up in flames myself.”
The humor in his voice meant the world, but the phrasing perhaps wasn’t exactly what she’d chosen. At least, not when the kissing story had been made up to prevent anyone from suspecting fire magic.
“Quiet, ashlings,” Hand Dunveil boomed over the noise of conversation filling the room. “We have a lot to do, so you’d better not waste your time talking.” He sat on the edge of the desk, bracing one tan hand beside his hip as he scanned the room. “We have two more weeks until you will prove what you can do on the parcours Captain Falcrest has chosen for your first Veiled test. But you also have a test to pass in knowledge.” He cleared his throat, patting the fat tome he pulled onto his lap. “We’ve covered the most important pieces of Brestolyan history: Lontio the Starborn, who founded Ashthorn Ward, the Great Purge, when the lands were rid of magic wielders—people too dangerous and uncontrollable for the kings who reigned the lands back then. The Uprising a hundred years ago, when Ulder’s ancestors were able to eliminate the last of the Flame-born who were threatening this continent.”
He paused, giving them a moment to remember the facts they’d studied from his words and the books the academyprovided. It had been a slow process for Lory, putting together her words with her lack of education due to growing up on the streets, but she was making progress. She didn’t shy away from books the way she had the first day she’d been handed one, and with Thal’s patience and Tabi’s encouragement, she was determined to put her time at Ashthorn to good use—at least when it came to reading.
“You’ll be tested in Knowledge soon, and historical facts will only be part of the exam. You’ll be tested on the theory of your specific magic type and given a practical exam as well.”
Lory sensed Thal tense beside her at the mention of the practical exam. She didn’t know about the other colors, but if Falcrest was right, and what had happened in that escape room was her light magic showing, Thal was the only one yet to develop their power. Not that she had any idea how to make her own magic resurface.
“If you fail the theoretical exam, you will merely be punished.” Dunveil’s tone dropped to an icy temperature. “If you fail the practical one, however?—”
“You’ll die.” Goosebumps rose on Lory’s skin as Falcrest’s velvet voice sounded from the back of the room.
She didn’t need to turn around to sense him right behind her, could feel his gaze burn into the back of her head.
But she was the only one who didn’t turn. All eyes flipped to the captain who had spread such a despicable story about her, and as they found him, they found her, too, grins and grimaces forming on their faces as they judged her with a gaze alone.
“Did she really try to jump him?” Someone whispered near the front of the room, causing a snicker to run through the rows of ashlings.
“I’d let her try any day.”
Lory didn’t even bother trying to see who had spoken. Falcrest had made it very clear that he expected her to handle whatever the situation brought on, and she wasn’t ready for anyone to suspect she had the fire magic people considered a death sentence. Escaping the butcher’s block once was more luck than anyone could expect Eroth to bestow upon them, and she wasn’t in a gambling mood today.
“See the pale patches on her face? Must have hurt like the Brother Guardian’s vengeance.”
“The Medica Hand must have spent hours patching her up. What an impressive magic to have.”
The whispers went on until Dunveil cleared his throat again, motioning for Falcrest to join him by the desk.
Lory didn’t hear him move, but she could feel the change in the air as he prowled away, his presence sliding off her like a cloak being dragged off her shoulders. Only when he made it to the front of the room did she dare look at him—finding his eyes already waiting for her.
“If you fail your practical exams, you’ll die,” he repeated with the cold face of the captain, not a trace of the concern Lory thought she’d spotted in the infirmary. “You’ll be given the opportunity to train your magic, but ultimately, it’s up to you what you make of your abilities.” His black uniform was impeccable despite its inconspicuous look, the soft, flexible pants perfect for climbing and leaping over obstacles, andthe shirt tight-fitted so it wouldn’t catch on fences or roof tiles as he made his way across the city the way only a master of stealth could.
