My grip on the fork tightened, creating red indents in my palm. I stared up at my friend in horror. “Tomorrow? Shouldn’t Alchemy and Restoration go first? They’ve had more days to rest!”
“It was a random drawing.” Ella’s expression was sympathetic.
“Combat has the most students so some had to go tomorrow.”
I set my plate to the side. “I should just leave,” I said abruptly. “It doesn’t matter how I fare tomorrow. They will never let someone like me get a robe after what happened today.”
She looked away, patting my arm.
“You can’t tell me I’ve got a chance,” I added.
Ella forced herself to meet my eyes. “There has never been a doctrine stating you had to win the tourney to earn a place.”
“How many have been apprenticed after losing a match?” I challenged bitterly.
She didn’t answer. We both knew the truth.
The next morning I awoke feeling resigned as I slowly lowered myself from the cot and dressed for the day’s events. My body had healed miraculously overnight, thanks to the potent draughts and restorative touch of Restoration. Those healers knew what they were doing. I might be miserable inside, but on the outside it was as if I had never been injured at all.
I could have left the Academy that day. I could have packed my bags and waited out the rest of my twin’s trials as a spectator.
I could have, but I was too proud. Ella was right. Whether I was willing to admit it or not, I had given my life for the chance to be a part of this place. Every waking dream of childhood, every hope I had ever held —they had all centered on becoming a mage. I could not leave my dream behind without completing this one final test.
I would stay for the ceremony, too. I would watch as Darren, Eve, and the others received something I had not been fit to earn. I would stay so that I could close this final chapter and leave my foolish aspirations behind.
There was always the Cavalry.
Pulling on my ragged tunic, I was grateful that the others would be forced to wear the same. I had already stood out enough this week. I didn’t need anything drawing more attention to how ill-prepared I felt.
Rather than heading to the library to spend the next six hours studying until my eyes bled, I followed the training field to the hill to where I had sulked so many months ago after my mid-year duel with Priscilla.
The exams were held in a tower to the west of the Academy, just overlooking the cliffs. I had never been. No one other than the judges would be allowed to hear our responses there. The building was disconnected from the rest of the castle’s structure, and it stood a good hundred feet taller than any of the roofs surrounding it. There was an ominous staircase inside, but it did not intimidate me in the least.
Each toll of the Academy bell to the east and another first-year was summoned. We had been given our individual count. I was to be one of the last for the day. I stayed on the hilltop, watching the small green specks of nervous first-years enter and exit the doors at the edge of the grounds.
Once the late afternoon sun had set my turn was fast approaching. I left my post and started the descent. By the time I had reached the tower’s base my count had rung. It was time to begin my ascent.
For ten minutes, I climbed the stairs with increasing apprehension. The inside of the passage was dark and I had to be careful where I stepped. A small flicker of light from the wall sconces was all I had to guide me in the prevalent darkness.
After five more minutes, I heard the shutting of a door above and moved to the side to let the returning first-year pass. It was only after the halting of footsteps that I looked up and realized who it was I had come across.
Darren stood, two steps above me, shadows covering all but the barest fragments of his face. He seemed just as shocked as I, though he was much quicker to recover. But not so fast that I missed the flash of guilt that shot across his face.
My pulse quickened, albeit unwillingly. The non-heir and I had not been alone together once since that day weeks before, and as much as I might loathe him in mind, my traitorous body was slow to follow.
“Excuse me,” Darren said, making way as if to leave.
I started to step aside, but then I stopped myself. I would probably never cross paths with the non-heir again, and trials were almost over. This was my one chance to ask.
“Why did you do it?”
After everything Darren had done, it shouldn’t have mattered. It didn’t, really, but I needed to hear the words regardless. Because as long as we kept this distance, as long as he avoided me, there would always be some small part of me trying to explain away his actions. Because of that kiss. That stupid, irresponsible kiss, and the way I had felt because of it.
Darren narrowed his gaze. “You were always so eager to think the worst of me. Would it really make a difference what I told you now?”
No. It wouldn’t. “I suppose not.” I glanced away, furious that I wanted his answer anyway. Let it go, Ryiah. I clenched my fists, wishing I could make myself as cold and unfeeling as the prince.