Chapter 53
Poppy
THE GRAND BALLROOM OF RAVENSCROFT Castle takes my breath away.
I’ve been here before—for the Yule ball the first year I knew Alina—but I’ve never seen it like this. The massive space has been transformed into something out of a dream, all moonlight and magical beauty.
Expansive windows line the soaring walls, the curtains drawn away from each one to reveal the night sky beyond.
The blue moon rises against the darkness, flooding the room in silvery radiance.
Hundreds of candles float overhead, drifting in lazy patterns, their flames reflected in the polished marble floor below.
Enchanted snow falls from the ceiling, vanishing as soon as it lands.
And everywhere—winding around the columns, pooling in elegant crystal fountains, swirling through the air itself—is the memory mist Aurora gave us, luminous and ethereal, responding to the emotions of everyone in the room.
It’s breathtaking, and it makes pride warm my chest.
We did it. After everything that happened this semester, Professor Silvermoon and I still made this happen.
“You ready for this?” Alina asks softly, squeezing my hand. She stands beside me, wearing an elegant midnight-blue gown, her long blue hair held back from her face with a sparkling silver headband. Raelan lingers one step behind her, his hand on her low back as his dark eyes sweep the ballroom.
Am I ready for this? My stomach is a knot of nerves, and my heart has been beating hard since we climbed into the carriage back at the academy.
I’ve been rehearsing what I want to say to Aric all day—different versions, different phrasings, trying to find the words that will make him understand that I was wrong and scared and, most of all, that I’ve fallen in love with him.
But now that I’m here, standing at the threshold of this beautiful ballroom, all those carefully practiced words feel inadequate.
I take a breath, smoothing down the skirt of my floor-length purple dress.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn—soft fabric that flows like water, colors that shift from lavender to deep purple as I move in the candlelight, with delicate beading along the bust that sparkles with every movement.
And thanks to a clever charm Alina did for me before we left, my glasses are invisible, which makes me feel strangely exposed and elegant all at once.
I feel . . . different. Like someone who might be brave enough to tell a man she loves him.
I draw a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m ready,” I say, and I mean it.
I’m done running, and I’m done letting fear dictate my choices.
Tonight, I’m going to find Aric, and I’m going to tell him I love him, even if he doesn’t say it back.
“That’s our girl,” Lyra says, looping her arm through mine.
Her partner, Cairn, stands just behind her, looking uncomfortable in his formalwear, with his massive horns spiraling up on either side of his head.
He and Lyra met us here, and I’ve not yet had a chance to speak with him, but I can see how delighted Lyra is to have him here with her.
She was so happy when I told her she’d be able to bring him—though I’m somewhat surprised he decided to attend, seeing as this is an academy function and he used to be part of the faculty.
But Lyra’s convincing that way, and she has the big minotaur wrapped completely around her finger.
Tonight, she’s wearing a rich emerald gown that makes her red hair look like fire, and fierce pride flickers in her expression as she looks at me. “You’ve got this, Pops. Just remember—you’re brilliant and beautiful, and any guy would be lucky to have you.”
“Especially my brother,” Maeve adds. Her dark purple eyes scan the ballroom as she steps up beside the rest of us, her long hair falling down her back in a sleek waterfall.
I take a moment to look at my friends, and moisture starts to gather in my eyes.
“Thank you all for coming,” I say softly.
“And for helping me with this.” I gesture to the ballroom, where students are already twirling across the floor—some more gracefully than others.
The buffet table along one wall swarms with activity, the little chocolate fountains especially popular.
A few girls have taken interest in one of the knights posted in the ballroom for the event, and something they say makes his cheeks flush red.
Everything looks perfect.
Except . . . Aric isn’t beside me.
Alina shifts away from me to lean back against Raelan’s chest. “Have you seen Aric yet?” she asks.
Hearing her say his name aloud makes my heart skip a beat. I quickly shake my head, then allow some of my fears to bubble up. “What if he’s here with someone else? What if he’s moved on? What if he—”
“He hasn’t moved on,” Raelan interrupts gently. He’s dressed in formal attire that makes him look every inch the prince-to-be that he is, and his expression is kind but firm as he meets my eyes. “Trust me. I’ve been helping him prepare for tonight. He wants this as much as you do.”
My heart does a pitter-patter of excitement and curiosity, hope flickering to life. “Prepare for tonight?”
Alina and Raelan exchange a look, and Alina smiles. “You’ll see. But you need to stop overthinking this. Just be honest. Tell him how you feel. That’s all you can do.”
She’s right. I know she’s right. But the memory of our last conversation still stings—how I pulled away in the library, the words I said that I didn’t mean.
Maybe we were just fooling ourselves. I can still see the hurt that flashed across his face, still feel the horrible weight of each step as I walked away from him.
I start to nibble on my lower lip, still not finding him in the crowd.
“Hey.” Maeve gives my arm a gentle shake and arches a sharp brow at me. “Stop that. I can literally see you overthinking this. Whatever happened before, tonight’s a new start. Okay?”
I nod, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. “Okay.”
“Good. Now let’s go find your orc.” Maeve grins. “And if he’s stupid enough to let you go twice, I’ll personally kick his ass—and give him coal for Yule.”
Despite my nerves, I laugh. “Deal.”
The six of us descend the grand staircase together, and I’m careful not to trip on the long skirt of my gown.
The orchestra is positioned on a raised platform at the far end of the room, and they play a waltz that echoes through the domed space. Couples twirl across the dance floor, and the memory mist swirls around them in response.
It’s beautiful. All of it. And suddenly, I desperately want to dance with Aric, to feel his arms around me while we move to the music, to see what memories the mist might show us.
If he’ll even talk to me.
I scan the crowd, searching for a familiar topknot, for broad shoulders and green skin, for hazel eyes that make my heart stutter. For a moment, I wonder if Felex was wrong. Maybe Aric has no intention of coming tonight. Maybe he—
My heart catches.
I see him.
He’s standing near one of the bubbling fountains, and my breath lodges in my lungs at the sight of him.
He’s wearing formal attire—a deep navy jacket that fits him perfectly, highlighting the breadth of his shoulders, paired with charcoal trousers and a crisp white shirt. His dark hair is pulled back, and the hoops in his ears gleam in the candlelight. He looks devastatingly handsome.
But he’s not alone.
Morgan stands beside him, wearing a stunning crimson gown that complements her red hair. Even from here, I can see how beautiful they look together. Two runeball captains, both brimming with confidence, a perfect pair.
She says something, leaning in close, and she’s smiling—clearly interested despite what Aric has told me about them. Her hand comes up to rest on his arm, and Aric laughs at what she says.
My resolve wavers.
Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe—
“Poppy!” a familiar voice calls, and I turn to see Professor Silvermoon approaching with a tall, handsome man I recognize as her husband.
She’s wearing a gorgeous gown of midnight blue, and her silver hair is swept up in an elegant arrangement, two twirly strands framing her face.
“Professor Silvermoon,” I manage, trying to smile despite the anxiety churning in my stomach.
She pulls me into a brief hug, the smell of lavender swirling around us. “You look absolutely stunning. That dress is perfect on you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She steps back, studying my face with those perceptive eyes of hers, and then she glances across the room—toward where Aric stands with Morgan—before looking back at me. “The blue moon is the perfect time to be brave. Don’t you think?”
I glance out one of the many windows at the rising moon, and looking at it, I get a little tingle down my spine. Then I meet Professor Silvermoon’s gaze again. “I hope so.”
“I know so.” She flicks a look over my shoulder, her lips pulling into a broad, easy smile. “Cairn. It’s so good to see you.”
We all glance back at the minotaur, who clears his throat and slides his hands into his trouser pockets. “You as well, Selene.”
Lyra loops her arm through his, not at all concerned about her professors seeing her with the academy’s prior groundskeeper, and he seems to soften at her touch, like she stabilizes him. It makes me smile for both of them.
With that, Professor Silvermoon drifts toward the buffet tables with her husband, her gown glittering as she goes, and my focus flits across the room again, to where Aric is still standing with Morgan.
Before I can look away, he turns.
Our eyes meet across the crowded ballroom, and everything else falls away.
Emotion flickers across his face, his hazel eyes widening. His lips part slightly, and even from this distance, I can see the way his chest rises with a sharp intake of breath.
Then, without offering Morgan even a glance, he leaves her side.
And strides straight toward me.
Morgan’s smile falters and fades. Her eyes narrow, but it doesn’t look like anger. It looks like . . . disappointment. Hurt, maybe. And I feel a pang of sympathy for her, even as relief and hope flood through me.
And for the first time, I realize that she’s not the villain, even if I’ve been treating her that way since I learned of her past relationship with Aric. She’s just another girl who fell for him, just like I did.
How could she not?
The crowd parts for him, students stepping aside as he crosses the ballroom. He doesn’t look away from me, doesn’t hesitate. His eyes stay locked on mine, and I feel like I can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t do anything except stand here, frozen, and wait for him to reach me.
“Go get him,” Alina whispers, giving me a gentle nudge forward.
“You can do this,” Lyra adds.
I give them a nod. Then I take a step forward, followed by another, my long skirt tickling the tops of my shoes. Behind me, I sense my friends drifting away, giving us space, but I barely register their departure.
Because Aric is there. Right in front of me. Close enough that I can smell his familiar scent—cedar and woodsmoke. I note the tension in his wide shoulders and the way his hands flex at his sides, like he wants to reach for me but doesn’t dare.
“Poppy.” My name is barely a whisper on his lips, but I hear it over the music, over the crowd, over everything. The way he says it makes my eyes blur with sudden tears. “You came.”
“I did,” I say, and my voice shakes. I smooth my hands down my dress. “I-I wasn’t sure you’d come. Or . . . if you’d want to see me.”
“Want to see you?” He lets out a pained laugh and runs a hand over his face.
“Poppy, I’ve been going out of my mind. I’ve been—” He stops, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard.
“I need to talk to you. I need to tell you—” Another pause, this one accompanied by a flexing of his jaw.
“Can we go somewhere? Somewhere private?”
My heart hammers so hard I’m surprised he can’t hear it.
This is it. This is the moment where I stop running, stop protecting myself, and just . . . leap. And hope he’ll be there to catch me.
“Yes,” I say. Then, before I can lose my nerve, I take a step away and nod toward the ballroom doors. “I know where we can go.”