“Hello.” She patted the spot beside her. “Welcome to the pity party.”
Baz joined her. “Where’s Louka?”
“Gone. My brother had me send him home.”
“Why?”
“Non-magical folk aren’t allowed on campus. If anyone were to find out I brought him here…”
“I thought the point of tonight was to bend the rules.Velleityand all that.”
Cordie gave a dramatic sigh. “Some rules are more ingrained in us than others, just like some desires are not meant to be actedupon.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “What brings you out here?”
“I’m not one for parties and crowds.”
“Neither am I. Well, notthistype of crowd, anyway. The lavish parties, the magic… That’s always been Cornelius’s world, not mine.” She bit her lip as if considering whether to keep talking or not. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course.”
“I’m not very good at magic. Ever since I enrolled at Aldryn, there have been particularly vicious rumors about me, students saying I’mundeservingof my spot at such a prestigious college because I don’t have enough magic to study here. Cornelius thinks me associating with those who don’t have more than the tiniest speck of magic only fuels such rumors.”
“I always thought it unfair that colleges only admit those they deem magical enough,” Baz said. “Magic manifests differently in everyone. Someone’s gift might be more subtle than others’, but if they want to study the theory behind it, they should deserve a place here as much as anyone else.”
Cordie looked at him fondly. “Louka would agree with you. He’s always wanted to study here. But I doubt colleges would soon change their minds on the matter. It would destroy their entire model.”
She was right—two hundred years from now, things were still the same.
“What my brother doesn’t understand is that I don’t care about those rumors,” Cordie continued. “I don’t care about fitting into academia. I want to live out there in the world, free to do what I want, to paint when I want, to be with who I want. But that’s not whatCorneliuswants for me, so here I am.”
“Do you not get a say?”
A harsh laugh. “My brother and I have spent our whole lives glued at the hip. Mingling with the same people, working towardthe same goals. I love him, and I know he’s only trying to protect me, but Tides, does it ever feel suffocating at times.” She frowned, staring into the distance. “Do you ever notice how sometimes, the people we’re closest to don’t know us at all? They see the version of us that they want to see and don’t bother knowing the version of us thatwewant to be.”
“Yes,” Baz breathed, thinking of everyone who’d ever wanted him to be different than what he was, more adventurous and self-assured. His sister. Emory. Even Kai, on occasion. His mind lingering on the Nightmare Weaver, he added, “But sometimes they see the good in us when we can’t.”
Cordie made a small sound of contemplation at that.
“Does the rest of your family live nearby?” Baz asked. It couldn’t hurt to do some subtle digging into the Clovers.
“We don’t have any family left.”
Baz startled. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Cornelius and I have been on our own for a long time. Our parents died when we were still toddlers, and whatever relatives they had are either unknown to us or long since dead. My brother has been managing our family estate for as long as I can remember.” She eyed him with curiosity. “What of your family?”
“They’re not alive either.”
It was the truth, in a way. They were notyetalive—would not be for nearly two centuries.
A sad smile touched Cordie’s face. “It’s funny. My brother and I have everything we could ever possibly need and more, and I’m so grateful to him for being my blood, my protector, my dearest friend. But I don’t think he’s ever yearned for family the way I do. He seeks kinship well enough, and I don’t disagree that family can be whomever you choose. Like you and Kai, for example. The bond you share, this feeling of… home in a person.”
Baz blushed at the insinuation.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to presume,” Cordie said.
“No, it’s fine.” She was right, after all.
“Those bonds are precious. Though I cannot deny that I have this deep yearning for somethingmore.” Cordie sighed, eyeing the art adorning the wall across from them. “Do you paint? You look to me like you have an artist’s soul.”
