CHAPTER 3
“You aren’t sealed.” Zakary’s voice held as much steel as the hand that still gripped my arm. “What are you doing with writing?”
“It isn’t mine,” I gasped out, my whole body frozen.
“You know that doesn’t matter,” he growled. “Unsealed commonborn are not permitted words.”
Terror filled me, more potent than what I had felt during the attack. It strengthened my spine and lent fire to my voice. I would have to be more brazen than I had ever been before if I had any hope of salvaging my future.
“I just saved your life. Are you telling me you’re going to hand me over to the Grays for a single sealed letter?”
His grip on my arm didn’t loosen, but his posture softened, his face twisting. Gratitude and personal obligation warred with his ingrained duty.
“Who taught you to read?” he asked. “And who has been foolhardy enough to write you a letter?”
He glanced down at the sealed missive, anger in his eyes although I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or the letter’s unknown author. He must have wanted to break it open andlook for a signature, but he couldn’t easily do so without relinquishing his hold on me.
At least he wasn’t making any attempt to drag me away. I had an opening, and I needed to push until it turned into a path forward.
“You don’t have to quote lectures at me about reading leading to writing,” I said with as much indignation as I could muster. “In my ten years of study, I’ve never attempted to read, not even once. I wouldn’t put my dreams and future at risk so foolishly.”
Both his brows shot up. “Excuse me if I find that a little hard to believe, given this.” He shook the letter slightly.
My heart beat fast, but I forced myself to meet his eyes. “You can see it has a seal. It isn’t for me, and I have no intention of reading it.”
“Just carrying it with you is a very serious crime. If you’re still studying, you must be hoping to win a place in a sealing ceremony. Having this in your possession alone means you would never be chosen—and worse consequences besides.”
“Only if someone catches me with it,” I said, but the words fell dully onto the cobblestones between us, my summoned fire sputtering and dying. Someonehadcaught me with it.
But as my hope died away, some of Zakary’s ire seemed to die with it. He looked between the folded letter and me, curiosity in his eyes.
“If the letter isn’t for you—if it’s true you can’t even read—why would you risk carrying it with you?”
I bit my lip. “I have to stay on my teacher’s good side,” I blurted out. “There’s another Robart two years below me.”
He leaned back a little, his grip slackening and his brow creased. “What?”
I sighed. “I know you’re a mage, but even you must have heard of the Robarts. They may be commonborn, but they’re a powerful merchant family.”
“Of course I’ve heard of them. But what do they have to do with this?”
I groaned. “Most of them live in this section of the city.”
“Is your teacher a Robart, then?” Zakary frowned. “And he gave you this? I still don’t understand.”
“No, he isn’t a Robart.” My voice dropped to a mutter. “He just wishes he was.” I took one look at Zakary’s confused expression and sighed again.
If it was going to make sense to him, I needed to tell him the whole story. It wasn’t something I liked to talk about, but I would tell Zakary my deepest childhood secrets if there was any chance they would extricate me from the situation.
They wouldn’t, of course. But if I could make him understand my position, maybe this tale could.
“I’ve been top of the class for the last four years,” I told him flatly, unable to muster any pride since the vast effort had so far gained me nothing. “The other students didn’t even resent me for it—much—since they knew I worked twice as hard as anyone else.”
“And yet…” Zakary’s eyes dropped to my unmarked wrist.
“You must know there haven’t been many sealing ceremonies in the last few years.” I tried to squash the defensive note in my voice. “There were several in my first year at the school, when I was still too young, but in the last four there has only been one.”
Zakary swallowed and nodded, unease in his face. “Two years ago. When a trainee failed the Academy.”
