I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, rehearsing what I was going to say in my head. The plan was simple enough. I was going to ask Dean Thornfield if I could audit Professor Crowe’s Monster History class. It was a perfectly reasonable request from an academically motivated student. The fact that it would give me regular access to Valen without raising suspicions was just a convenient side effect.
The sound of hooves on marble announced the secretary’s return before I saw her round the corner.
“Dean Thornfield will see you now,” she said with a warm smile. “Right this way.”
I followed her down the hallway, past enchanted landscape paintings and display cases filled with magical artifacts. The administrative building always made me feel odd, especially when my family’s name was on half the donated artifacts. Buttoday, though, I was grateful for the Quinn name and the doors it opened.
The secretary knocked on a heavy oak door before pushing it open. “Mr. Quinn to see you, sir.”
“Thank you, Margaret. Please, come in, Archer.”
Dean Thornfield stood behind his desk, a tall man with graying hair and kind blue eyes that held more intelligence than most people gave him credit for. He gestured to the chair across from his desk as Margaret closed the door behind me.
“Please, sit. It’s good to see you. How are your parents?”
“They’re well, thank you for asking.” I settled into the chair, trying to project confidence I didn’t entirely feel. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
“Not at all. What can I do for you?”
I took a breath, committing to the lie I’d crafted. “I was hoping to audit Professor Crowe’s Monster History class this semester. I know it’s not part of my official course load, but I feel like my education has been... limited in certain areas.”
Dean Thornfield’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Limited how?”
“Well, my family has always emphasized traditional magical theory and pure-blood witch history,” I said, which was absolutely true. “But I realize I don’t know much about the other supernatural species that make up our world. Their cultures, their contributions to magical society, or their perspectives on historical events.”
The Dean leaned back in his chair, studying me with those sharp eyes. “That’s quite a mature realization, Archer. Most students from your background never question the scope of their education.”
Heat crept up my neck. Did he know about my parents’ recent restrictions? About their increasingly isolationist views? “I just think a well-rounded education is important. Especiallyif I’m going to be working in the magical community after graduation.”
“Indeed.” He was quiet for a moment, fingers steepled in front of him. “And what do your parents think about this desire to expand your historical knowledge?”
My stomach clenched. This was the tricky part. “They don’t need to know the specifics of every class I attend,” I said carefully. “As long as my required coursework remains excellent, they don’t need to know about my…supplementaleducation.”
It wasn’t technically a lie. But my parents just didn’t need to know. They just didn’t know I was planning to use that trust to get closer to a vampire professor they’d probably try to have executed if they found out about our weekend encounter.
Dean Thornfield nodded slowly. “Professor Crowe’s class does offer a unique perspective on magical history. He has firsthand experience with many of the events he teaches about.”
“That’s exactly what I’m looking for,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “Primary source knowledge instead of just textbook theory.”
“The class meets three times a week,” he continued, pulling out a file from his desk drawer. “Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, plus a Friday discussion section. It’s quite intensive, and Professor Crowe has high standards. And you’ve already missed the first week.”
“I’m prepared to make up for that.”
He studied me for another long moment, and I had the uncomfortable feeling he could see right through my carefully constructed reasoning. Finally, he picked up a pen and began writing on an official form.
“Very well. I’ll approve your audit request.” He signed the paper with a flourish, then looked up at me. “However, I want you to understand something, Archer.”
My pulse quickened. “Sir?”
“Professor Crowe is an excellent educator, but he can be... challenging for students who come from more traditional backgrounds. He doesn’t coddle anyone, and he has little patience for prejudice or close-minded thinking.” The Dean’s eyes met mine directly. “I trust that won’t be a problem for you?”
“Not at all,” I said, accepting the signed form. “I’m looking forward to being challenged. And I want to open my mind even further. For the good of myself and everyone I’ll work with in the future.”
“Good.” He stood, signaling the end of our meeting. “The class meets in a half hour. Give this form to Professor Crowe when you get to his class. I’m sure he won’t have a problem with it.”
I rose as well, tucking the form safely into my bag. “Thank you, Dean Thornfield. I really appreciate this.”
“Of course. And Archer?” He paused as I reached for the door handle. “I hope you find Professor Crowe’s class as enlightening as I suspect you will. And thank you for expanding for horizons.” He paused again. “The world needs more witches likeus.”
