Chapter 10
I don't know where I am going. Away is enough. I run past classrooms, past portraits calling after me, past branch banners and enchanted windows and students who turn as I blur by. My lungs burn. My wrist burns. My chest burns.
'You do not know what you are.'
I turn down the old west corridor, the one hardly anyone uses before midday, and shove through a side door into the winter garden. Cold air hits me. I stumble onto the stone path and stop beneath a canopy of glass, gasping.
The winter garden is one of Arcana's quieter places, enclosed by high glass walls frosted at the edges and filled with plants that bloom only in cold weather.
Silver roses twist around iron trellises.
Pale blue vines hang from the ceiling. A frozen fountain stands in the center, its water suspended mid-pour, transformed into crystal.
No students. No professors. No council. Just cold. I press both hands against my mouth and try to breathe. It doesn't work. The tears come too fast.
I hate them. I hate crying because crying proves everyone right. Fragile Valentina. Poor powerless Valentina. Breakable little Starling girl with no branch, no magic, no place but the tears come anyway. Silent, hot and furious. I wipe them away roughly.
"What am I?" I whisper to no one. The winter garden doesn't answer.
The door opens behind me. I don't turn to find out who it is. I know. The bond mark knows. Valerius steps into the garden and closes the door quietly behind him. For once, he says nothing. No insult. No command. No careful. Just silence.
I laugh once through the tightness in my throat. "Did Thorne send you?"
"No." He says softly.
"My mother?" I bite.
"No." He repeats.
"Then why are you here?" I ask.
He doesn't answer immediately. His boots sound softly against the stone path as he comes closer. Not too close. Close enough for the bond to warm. Far enough that I can pretend he is giving me space.
"I don't know," he says.
The honesty undoes something in me. I turn around. He stands a few feet away beneath the silver roses, black clothing stark against all the pale glass and frost. His face is closed, but not cruel. His eyes move over me—my damp cheeks, my shaking hands, the sleeve pulled low over my wrist.
Something darkens in his expression. "Don't look at me like that," I say.
"Like what?" He asks.
"Like I'm pathetic."
His jaw tightens. "That isn't what I was thinking."
"Then what were you thinking?"
His eyes hold mine. "I was thinking I should have kept her from saying it."
My breath catches. Her. My mother. The words. You do not know what you are. I look away because the sudden ache in my chest is too much. "You couldn't have known."
"No." He agrees.
"But you think you should have anyway?" His silence answers. A bitter smile pulls at my mouth. "That sounds exhausting."
"It is." He admits.
A laugh slips out. Small. Broken. His eyes soften for half a second. Then he looks away like softness is something shameful. The quiet stretches between us, filled by the faint crackle of frost forming over leaves.
"I don't know what she meant," I say. Valerius's gaze returns to me. "I know what she said," I continue. "I know she tried to take it back. But I heard it. You heard it."
"Yes." The single word is low.
I fold my arms around myself. "Does everyone know something about me except me?"
"No." He answers quickly.
"How can you be sure?" I ask.
"Because even I don't know." Despite everything, I look at him. His mouth curves faintly, but there is no humor in it. "And I dislike not knowing."
"That must be very hard for you." I tease.
"It is becoming intolerable and annoying." There he is again. Cruel edges. Sharp tongue but somehow, it doesn't cut as deeply this time. Maybe because he followed me. Maybe because he is still here. Maybe because the bond hums softly between us, not pulling now, only connecting.
Valerius steps closer. My body notices before my mind can object. "I meant what I said yesterday," he says.
I blink. "You say a lot of terrible things. You'll have to be specific."
Something flickers in his eyes. It looked almost like amusement. "Don't show anyone your wrist."
I look down at my sleeve. "The shadow was gone this morning."
"Was it?" He asks.
My throat tightens. I slowly pull the sleeve back. The gold circle glows faintly. For a moment, that is all. Then, as Valerius steps closer, the thin shadow ring appears around it. Dark and delicate. Wrapped around the gold like smoke around sunlight.
"Why is it doing that?" I whisper.
"I don't know." His expression hardens.
"You keep saying that." I say in a whisper.
"Because it's true." He says softly.
He reaches toward my wrist, then stops. This time, he doesn't ask. He waits. I stare at his hand. Then at his face. "I thought you didn't care," I say.
His eyes darken. The bond mark pulses. "I don't," he says. Another lie. This one is weaker than the last.
I lift my wrist slowly. His fingers close around it with careful restraint, like he is holding something that might shatter or explode. Maybe both. Heat blooms instantly. The shadow ring deepens.
Valerius inhales sharply, but he doesn't let go. I feel his thumb brush near the mark.
My breath catches. His eyes lift to mine. The winter garden disappears around the edges. All the cold. All the glass. All the silver roses. Gone. There is only his hand on my skin and the impossible heat threading between us.
"What does it feel like?" he asks. His voice is rougher than usual.
"Warm." His thumb stills. I swallow. "Safe." The word slips out before I can stop it.
His face changes completely. Not visibly to someone far away, maybe, but I am close. Too close. Close enough to see the shock move through him like a crack in black stone.
Safe.
As if no one has ever placed that word in his hands before. I try to pull back, embarrassed. "I didn't mean—"
His grip tightens. "Don't." I freeze. His eyes burn into mine. "Don't take it back because you're afraid of what it means."
My pulse stumbles. The bond hums louder. "What does it mean?" I whisper.
He looks at me for a long moment. Then his gaze drops to my wrist. "To them?" he says quietly. "Danger."
My stomach sinks. "And to you?" I ask.
His thumb brushes the mark once. This time, the heat flashes so strongly my free hand grips his forearm. Bad idea. Terrible idea. The moment my fingers touch the bare skin above his sigils, his Shadowflame flickers beneath them. Not out into the air. Under his skin. A dark pulse answering my touch.
Valerius goes still. So do I.
His arm is warm and solid under my hand. The sigils shift beneath my fingers like living ink, not recoiling from me, not burning me. The shadow ring around my mark pulses in time. Our breaths fall unevenly in the small space between us.
"To me," he says, voice low enough that it feels pulled from somewhere unwilling, "it means you shouldn't be alone and stay by my side."
The words settle inside me. Heavy. Protective.
Terrifying. I should step away. I should remember every insult, every cruel look, every time he made me feel small.
I do remember but I also remember his arm around my waist when the ward exploded.
His voice against my ear. His refusal to leave the chamber.
His body between me and my mother's questions.
The boy who once looked at me like nothing is now looking at my wrist like the world has placed a target there and maybe it has. The garden door opens. We spring apart. Too fast. Too guilty.
Seren freezes in the doorway. Her eyes move from me to Valerius, then to my uncovered wrist, then to the space between us. "Oh," she says.
My face burns. "It's not—"
"Do not finish that sentence," she says quickly. "I may not survive the awkwardness."
Valerius steps back, his expression shuttering instantly. Cold prince returned but his sigils are still shifting. Seren notices. Her eyes narrow.
Then she looks at me, and all humor leaves her face. "Val, Magistra Voss is looking for you."
My blood turns cold. Valerius's entire body changes. "What?" he asks.
Seren glances at him, clearly annoyed by his existence but too worried to fight. "She came to history of magical law asking where Valentina was. Professor Vale said she was with Dean Starling. Voss didn't look pleased."
I pull my sleeve down. Valerius notices. "Where is she now?" he asks.
Seren lifts her chin. "Why? Planning to brood at her?"
"Seren," I say softly.
She exhales. "Last I saw, heading toward the dean's office."
My mother. My chest tightens. Valerius looks toward the glass door, jaw hard. Then back at me. "You stay here."
Anger sparks instantly. "No."
"Valentina." He narrows his eyes.
"My mother is involved." I say.
"Exactly." The word hits wrong.
I step closer. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you are too shaken to walk straight into another room full of people who know more than you." He says harshly.
"I am not shaken." I say. He gives me a look.
Fine. I am shaken but I'm still going. "I spent my whole life being protected by silence," I say. "I'm done."
Valerius stares at me. The tension between us shifts. Deeper. He sees something in my face that makes him stop arguing. Or maybe he just realizes I will not listen. At last, he says, "Then I'm coming with you."
"You don't have to." I remind him.
His mouth tightens. "I know." That answer does more to me than it should.
Seren looks between us again, suspicion and worry and something like reluctant understanding crossing her face. "Well," she says. "If we're all walking into danger, I'm coming too."
Valerius looks at her. "No."
Seren smiles sweetly. "I will rot every shoe you own."
For a second, I think Valerius might actually smile, he doesn't but something close flickers and dies.
"Fine," he says.
Seren blinks. "That worked?"
"Don't celebrate." He shoots her a look.
"I'm celebrating internally." She smiles.
We leave the winter garden together. Seren on my left. Valerius on my right.