“Listen, these ladies came because something in them was restless. They knew there was something more for them, even though society likes to tell them otherwise. I know because it happened to me.” I said. “They came because their old lives don’t fit anymore for whatever reason, whether it’s divorce, empty-nesting, or just quiet uncertainty. That kind of woman can handle more than we could ever imagine.”
Stella’s expression softened just a fraction. “But your fear is valid about the Academy shunning non-witch magicals.”
I nodded. “I know, and we’ll have to face it openly. If it happens, we explain it. We don’t let it fester into rumor. And maybe we use the UnderLoom for training, but we must make them feel included.”
She held my gaze for a long moment.
“You sound very certain.”
“I’m not,” I said honestly. “But I’m choosing movement forward.”
Keegan’s hand brushed mine under the table. Steady. Present.
Stella set her cup down carefully.
“You’re not wrong,” she said.
Keegan’s brows lifted slightly as he watched Stella look into her teacup as if it held answers.
“You think we should?” I asked.
“I think,” she said, folding her hands again, “that if magical families are already booking rooms and wolves are already pressing at the threshold, pretending this is a witch-only concern is foolish. And ignoring the fact that magiccanbe shared would be dangerous. We only have one shot, and we'd better take it.”
Relief flickered through me, though I kept my face steady.
“I think you’ll need buy-in from your students,” Stella said. “If they feel overrun, they will retreat. Figure out a way to explain things that are happening and why it would be a good idea.”
“I’ll speak to them,” I said. “Before anything happens. But I’ll need help. Do you think you can get Lady Limora, Opal, Mara, and Vivienne to help? Maybe they could start chatting with the other vampire students?”
“Without question.” Stella’s scarlet lips curved again, more fully this time.
“You’re building something unusual,” she said. “Which means it might work.”
“That’s reassuring,” I said wryly.
She chuckled. “Well, it shouldn’t be.”
I laughed softly, and for a brief time, the tea shop felt small and safe like it always had, with candles flickering and the steady clink of porcelain. A few townsfolk murmured near the front, but outside, the world was shifting.
“You do realize,” Stella said lightly, “that if this succeeds, the Academy will never be what it was.”
“I know,” I said.
“And you’re comfortable with that?”
I thought about the banquet hall. The wolves. The inn filling. The shifters holding their line.
“I don’t think it’s meant to be what it was,” I replied.
Stella’s gaze remained on me, and I had to say there’s something unnerving about being studied by someone who has lived through revolutions you only read about in brittle books. Stella didn’t rush her thoughts. She sifted them.
“Well,” she said briskly, standing. “If we’re rewriting the social fabric of the magical community, we’ll need better tea service.”
Keegan huffed a quiet laugh.
And for the first time since meeting the orcs at the Luminary, the pit in my stomach eased.
Just a little bit.
