“Yes,” I said.
He placed his hand over mine.
Our Marks went violently bright.
Mine flared under his palm, and his answered so hard the dark lines on his forearm rose like ink drawn to heat. Cold marble filled my mouth. Burnt sugar followed, dark and sweet and terrible. The basin water leapt beneath our hands.
The hall gasped.
Caspian’s fingers tightened around mine.
A question.
It helped me remain standing.
Then green cut through.
Kieran.
His Mark answered from across the hall with a flash bright enough to paint his right shoulder through the cloth of his formal coat. Several students turned. Kieran’s jaw went tight, but he didn’t move toward me.
Good.
Brave.
Awful.
Then Hale.
The Pull came steady and dark, leather and rain, not rushing, not claiming. His Mark answered beneath his opened sleeve. Faculty near him saw. Aldric saw. Juno saw.
Quill also saw everything.
The basin water rose in a thin silver ring around our hands.
Three lines appeared in it.
One cold and pale.
One green-gold.
One dark as rain on stone.
The hall went silent with the force of every person inside it realizing the beautiful thing had teeth.
Quill lowered his hand.
“Astra Verita,” he said, and for the first time that night his voice had to work to remain beautiful. “Do you consent to stabilization through the prepared bond offered by Caspian Ashford, witnessed by Council, school, cycle, and family?”
There it was.
The question.
The trap.
The room full of flowers waiting to write down my yes.
Caspian’s hand was still over mine. Warm. Shaking very slightly, though no one else could see it.
