The room took that in.
Every witness.
Every student.
Every man who had hoped to keep her contained.
Kieran’s Mark flared bright enough that several students nearby whispered before remembering where they were.
Hale kept his attention on Astra.
His answer was steadier than mine.
I despised him for it.
I needed him for it.
“Then it keeps them.”
My father made a sound that could only be described as hope turning to despair.
The whole Ashford line was in that breath, appalled to find itself contradicted by its own heir.
“And you accept that?” Astra asked.
For a moment, every lesson my father had ever put in me stood in the way.
She deserved to watch me choose to get past that.
“I will learn to,” I said.
Her eyes stayed on mine.
She looked at me long enough to make sure I understood what I had promised.
“I’ll teach you,” she said.
Rev, somewhere near the first-years, cheered, which should have been horrible, but from Rev it was expected.
Cosima kept writing.
Her shoulders were too straight and her eyes too bright.
I let Astra see the truth before the room could turn it into performance.
“I promise I will learn.”
She looked down at our hands.
Silver water moved around them, restless and bright.
“Then yes,” she said.
Quill reached for the black cloth beside the basin, as if the answer could still be covered up.
Too late.
The basin took the word.
