Her reflection looked back at her as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She looked pale, her face almost drained of color. The summer should have been a time to rest and relax, but she’d spent the last two months desperately cramming before retaking her exams. Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles had been merciless tutors, drilling her in everything from advanced charms to fiendishly complex potion brewing. And then she’d returned to the school to retake the exams.
She ran her hands through her brown hair, feeling drained. The exams had been harder than she’d expected, even though Lady Barb had told her—time and time again—that retaking the exams was always harder. She’d been expected to display a breadth of knowledge and comprehension that had been lacking from the original exams, something that irritated her even though she understood the logic behind it. A person who failed the exams might have failed because they hadn’t been paying attention, rather than going to war. She’d lost weeks of study during the fighting—and another week in Beneficence—and it had cost her. She hadn’t managed to catch up in time to pass the exams.
I suppose I should be relieved I didn’t fail them all, she thought, as she removed her dress and stepped into the shower. It was a very near thing.
The warm water was almost hypnotic, cascading over her body and washing away the dirt and grime. She wanted to stay in the shower for hours—or perhaps years—but she knew she didn’t have the time. Lady Barb had promised her she’d have her exam results today, even if that meant having the papers marked in a hurry. Emily wasn’t sure she wanted to know, not after spending the summer desperately reviewing everything she’d learnt over the past year. If she failed—again—she’d have to retake Fifth Year from the start.
Which is a serious problem, she told herself. She climbed out of the shower, using a spell to dry her body. I’d have to find a way to tackle the joint project without Caleb.
The thought cost her a pang. Breaking up with Caleb had hurt, but she hadn’t been able to cut him out of her life completely. They’d needed to finish their project—or at least show they’d moved forward over the past year—or they would both have been threatened with being forced to retake the year. The hell of it was that she didn’t want to cut him out of her life, despite everything. And yet ... Her emotions were a jumbled mess. There were times, when she’d been lying alone in bed, when she’d wanted to call him ... and times when she’d wanted to make sure she never saw him again.
She walked back into the room, dug through her bag to find a new dress and pulled it over her head. It wasn’t anything fancy—a blue gown designed more for comfort and practicality than anything else—but she felt it suited her. Alassa’s mother had sent her a whole collection of dresses over the summer, each one expensive enough to feed an entire village for the year, yet Emily hadn’t been able to wear them. They’d just been too bright and colorful for her tastes.
And I didn’t have time to go out anyway, she thought. I had to study.
Emily couldn’t help feeling another pang at the thought. She was still—technically—banned from Zangaria, but there was nothing stopping her from meeting Alassa and Imaiqah somewhere along the border. Or she could just cross the border and dare Alassa’s father to do something about it. Or ... she shook her head, grimly. She knew she hadn’t had time to visit anyone, even her two oldest friends. There had been a time when she’d shared everything with Alassa and Imaiqah. And yet, she couldn’t help feeling as though they were drawing apart.
And Alassa’s last letters spoke of trouble in Zangaria, Emily thought. And of her failure to conceive a child.
There was a knock on the door. Emily glanced down at herself, making sure she looked reasonably presentable, then opened the door. Lady Barb stepped into the chamber, carrying a parchment scroll in one hand. She held it out to Emily without speaking. The charm on the seal glowed for a moment, reading Emily’s magical signature, then faded away into nothingness. She could open the parchment at will.
Emily hesitated as she closed the door. She really wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She thought she’d done well, but she’d thought that before. And that had ended badly. If she’d failed ... she wasn’t sure what she’d do. Accept Void’s offer of an apprenticeship? Or swallow her pride and retake Fifth Year? She’d hardly be the first student to retake an entire year.
Lady Barb snorted. “It won’t go away.”
“I know,” Emily said. Her fingers refused to open the scroll. “I don’t want to know.”
“I could read it for you,” Lady Barb offered. “But you will have to find out eventually.”
Emily looked up at her. Lady Barb had been up for hours, longer than Emily herself, but there was no trace of it on her face. Her blonde hair framed a patrician face that made her look striking—and timeless. Emily felt a sudden rush of affection for the older woman, mingled with a faint dismay that she would never have a presence rivaling her mentor. Lady Barb was formidable and everyone knew it.
“Yeah,” Emily said, finally. “If I faint ...”
“I’ll catch you before you hit the ground,” Lady Barb promised.
The wax seal broke under her fingers. She unfurled the scroll, feeling her heart starting to pound in her chest. If she’d failed ... she forced her doubts aside as she searched for the summary. The tutors would provide a great deal of feedback—she’d been promised entire books of feedback—but that didn’t matter, not now. All that mattered ...
“I passed,” she said.
She felt her face twisting into a smile. “I passed!”
“Very good,” Lady Barb said. “Can I ...?”
Emily wrapped her arms around the older woman, hugging her tightly. “I passed!”
Lady Barb took the scroll. “Four exams ... good marks on all four, plus the joint project ... I dare say you did very well.”
“Thank you.” Emily let go of Lady Barb. “I ...”
“You won’t get the highest of marks,” Lady Barb added. “Retaking the exams will cost you, no matter how well you do. But you did well enough to pass into Sixth Year. Unless you’ve changed your mind ...”
Emily shook her head, hastily. She didn’t really want to leave Whitehall, but she didn’t want to repeat a year either. It would have meant going over spells and rituals she’d already mastered, time and time again. And everyone she knew would graduate a year ahead of her, leaving her alone.
Frieda wouldn’t, she reminded herself. But she’d still be a year below me.
She took back the scroll and skimmed through the detailed feedback. Professor Lombardi and Master Tor had attached a series of comments; Professor Thande had written a short note, asking her to pay him a visit after term restarted. She promised herself that she’d sit down, when she returned to her house, and go through the comments carefully. There was still a week to go before term formally restarted.
“Thank you.” Emily felt her vision go blurry and hastily blinked away the tears. “I wouldn’t have passed if you hadn’t helped me.”