‘I seeyou, Sebastian.’ I lean forward and kiss him.
I pour everything I am into it. Every ache and fragment of want and need and desire. Screw the consequences. I’m allowed to grieve for my brother. I can follow my father’s orders. And I am allowed this –him– something that is solely mine. Something untouched by the will of others.
Lukas may have been the reason our paths initially crossed, but some resolute part of me feels like we would have found each other once I got here anyway.
Ever since Ceremony Day I have shoved all my previous feelings toward Sebastian into a box and thrown away the key. All those precious moments I shared with him and Lukas were hidden, stored where I couldn’t touch them. Now though, it feels like the door to the vault has been blown open, and all those memories have been coming back to me in fragmented pieces over the past few days. Reminding me that Sebastian isn’t the person who hurt me when I got here. That was an act, a mask that he wore. And Stars, he wore it well.
Although, I saw cracks in his mask – glimpses ofmySebastian. I don’t think he even knew. Like when I found him making my bed with fresh linen after he found out I had none. Or when he carried me after Moiraattacked me and stayed until I woke. When he gave me a dagger and a way to conceal it to help me feel safe in my own skin again. All these little things didn’t match up with the person he was trying to be and maybe some part of me knew that all along. Maybe that’s why it feels so alarmingly easy to let myself fall into him like this.
Eventually I break our kiss and rest my forehead on his chest, savouring the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.
Having Sebastian in this way carries its own kind of guilt. Letting him hold me, kiss me, whisper against my skin. I imagine what Lukas would do if he were here and caught us wrapped up in each other’s embrace like this.
I also need to tell Sebastian about my plan with Tilly and Xavier, and about what my father asked of me. The duty I’ve felt bound to since I arrived. Finally, we’re both being honest with each other, instead of hiding behind masks and walls of indifference. But … I can’t seem to do it.
Everything that has happened between us, past and present, has been free of my brother’s reach. Perhaps it’s selfish, but part of me wants to keep it that way for just a while longer.
I’ll tell him eventually, I reason, because I have questions that I feel onlyhecan answer. Between what I’ve learned from Jed, Lillian and Professor Fern, the pieces in my head have started to slot into place and paint a different picture of what I thought Lukas was like. But also, they have reaffirmed for me that he is innocent. He was wronged by someone here. Blamed for dark magic he had no hand in. I’m not sure if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but when I get into Agate, I’m determined to scour through every dark grimoire possible to find a spell that matches what happened in the Grand Hall at the beginning of the year.
I won’t tell him what I know now because I want the evidence first. I want to stand in front of him with hard facts to point to, because maybe there’s still a part of me that’s scared he won’t be on my side with this. I’ve never outright asked him if he believes Lukas is innocent, but he’s never said as much either. Just that he loved him and they were close.Though there have been little things that made me suspect it. Not in the beginning, but now … maybe.
Jed, I am sure of. I think if I told him what I had planned he would support it – hell, he’d probably help me if I asked him to. Not that I would. Having Tilly and Xavier in the firing line already fills me with unease.
I won’t add anyone else into this mess.
I decide right here that I want to be selfish. What we have right now is new, yet not. Fragile, yet there is strength in the way he holds me. A comfort I have found only with him and no one else. Not ever.
One week. I will be selfish for one more week, until the Imber Stellarum celebration.
FORTY-NINE
‘Welcome to your first Combat With Magic class.’ Professor Nicks gestures to the large ring that’s been carved into the dirt and filled with salt. There’s a definitive charge in the air emanating from the direction of the ring. I can feel its magic ebb and pulse from where I stand at the back of the crowd beside Isla with my arms crossed.
I watch through the gaps of several students’ heads as Nicks starts to run everyone through how this is going to work. We’ll be split into pairs based on our elemental skill level. That information was handed over to Nicks from Professor Fern. There is a brown clipboard tucked under his arm, which I presume holds those particular details, where Ialsopresume sits a big fat ZERO next to my name.
Today is one of the coldest days I’ve experienced so far in the two-ish months I’ve been at the academy and the wind is strong as it blows my hair across my face. The grey long sleeve shirt covering my arms is thin and does almost nothing to stop the chill as it hits my back, causing my skin to pebble.
I look over at Isla, whose nose has started to turn pink from the cool breeze slapping at our faces. I’m about to ask her if she can feel the magic emanating from the ring as well, but someone shoulder-checks me from behind, jolting me forward.
Isla reaches out to steady me and both our heads twist around to see Moira scowling my way with a sour look on her face.
‘Why are you still here, Nocthare? We’re using our elements today.’
I thank Isla for catching me, before taking a deep –deep –down to my core type of calming breath and responding.
‘Thank you, Moira,’ I deadpan. ‘For repeating information, Ijustheard.’
In other words, eat shit.
‘There’s no point in being here,’ she bites back, tossing her red hair over her shoulder, only for it to blow back over.
‘Then you should probably leave.’
Her blue eyes narrow. ‘I was talking aboutyou!’
‘Why? Because talking about yourself puts people to sleep?’
Isla snorts beside me. She tries to hide it behind a cough but it’s too late. Moira’s gaze falls to her with an icy glare and she tuts. ‘I’ve lost all respect foryou, Peters.’
