The non-heir appeared self-assured as he sent the giant sacks flying backward across the field. The castings relied on huge gusts of magical exertion. I couldn’t imagine the power it took to throw fifty pound with the mind. I couldn’t even do that with my hands, and I’d had those all my life.
Darren was not alone either, though he did look the most at ease during the procession. Some of the remaining first-years were even smiling. The non-heir had the most blatant grin of all. From the looks the victors exchanged, it was clear they considered the practice nothing more than a game.
They took turns trying to out-distance one another. Darren was the clear victor, but the blonde girl stood out the most. Darren had cast the most most magic but two of Eve’s castings had gone at least a quarter of a mile further than anyone else’s reach, including the his.
I had a vague suspicion the girl was holding out. I wasn’t sure exactly why but I had a feeling that I would find out at the end-of-year trials. Darren was hard to beat, but something told me I’d be a fool to think he had no rivals here. I suspected Eve was one of them—and hopefully me, if I were to ever catch up.
When the lesson had ended that last impression stayed with me long after I had finished the evening meal.
By the time I had retired to the library’s third floor for the evening I was fighting sleep with every page I turned. My eyelids kept involuntarily falling closed. At some point during the first hour I must have fallen asleep because it was only during the toll of the Academy’s midnight bell that my reverie was broken, and I realized how late it had actually become.
Sluggishly, I gathered my belongings and descended to the first floor study.
“In case you have ever wondered, you snore like a drunken sailor.”
I finished stepping off the ladder’s frame and turned to face Darren. He looked pretty worn out himself, but not so much that I couldn’t catch the wicked humor in his eyes.
I had no energy left for witty banter. “Not that it’s any of your concern,” I said, trying to stifle a yawn, “but I wasn’t asleep the entire time.”
I made my way to the door and was startled to see the non-heir had joined me, books in hand. Usually he snuck out a minute or so after I left, whether as a cautionary measure or to avoid conversation, it was anyone’s guess.
Darren noticed my stare and shrugged. “It’s been almost two months, if you were foolish enough to get caught, it would have happened by now.”
I attempted a frown, but I was too tired to give anything more than a slight grimace. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He twisted slightly to look at me, the air of mockery gone and replaced with a much more candid light. “I guess I never expected you to last this long,” he admitted, “but you aren’t nearly as hapless as I expected you to be.”
“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?” I asked, affronted.
He smiled wolfishly. “Interpret it however you like.”
I rolled my eyes as we turned the corner of the hall.
I watched the prince reach for the door. “I wonder if you have ever given someone a compliment that wasn’t a backhanded insult.”
Darren’s grasp on the handle stilled, and he glanced back at me, eyes dancing amidst the surrounding shadows. “I prefer not to. It gives people an unsettling impression of self-importance.”
“Me?” I scoffed. “Self-important? Have you checked a mirror?”
He didn’t look away. “You will thank me one day for not filling your head with false compliments. Adversity teaches one more than flattery ever will.”
“A compliment never hurt anyone.”
He snorted. “If I had listened to everything the courtiers sang, I never would have gotten to where I am today. The people that tell you what you want to hear are the most dangerous enemies you’ll ever meet.”
I stared at him. “You must have had a dark childhood if you mistrusted anyone who was ever kind to you.”
Darren tilted his head and gave me a wicked smile. “You’d rather I tell you what you want to hear?” The prince took a step closer, effectively closing the gap between us. “What do you want me to tell you, Ryiah?” His hand was still on the doorknob, leaving me pressed against the wooden frame as he leaned closer, his face only inches from my own.
My breath caught in my throat. I could feel tingling from the top of my spine to the tips of my toes, and my skin was unnaturally warm. My heart rate slowed. I felt light-headed, thrown off by the dark, bottomless eyes boring into my own.
What are you doing, Ryiah? Some part of me, conscious of the disaster that was about to unfold, pleaded to return to sanity. But all my senses were in chaos.