Chapter 2 #4
The room collectively wilts. He flicks his fingers, and parchment cards fly from his desk, landing two by two across the room.
"Each pair will analyze a historical Eternal Flame bond and identify the branch imbalance, the trial challenge, and the reason the Flame chose the pairing."
A card lands on my desk. Seren leans in, hopeful. Then a second card lands beside mine. Not on Seren's desk, on the aisle.
At first, I think it is a mistake. Then I see everyone turning. Valerius Draven stands from his seat on the right side of the room. My heart stops. No. Absolutely not.
Professor Thorne does not look up from his desk. "Miss Starling. Mr. Draven. Front alcove." The room becomes a held breath.
Seren whispers, "You have got to be kidding me."
Valerius walks toward me with slow, controlled steps, his expression carved from indifference. I remain seated for one second too long. I stand because not standing would look like I'm afraid, and I'm already tired of feeding this academy pieces of myself.
We meet in the aisle. He looks down at me. I look up at him. Neither of us speaks. The warmth flickers under my ribs again. This time, his eyes drop instantly. He feels something or sees something. I don't know which possibility scares me more.
"Front alcove," Professor Thorne repeats without looking at us.
I move first. The front alcove is a small stone recess off the main lecture floor, lined with shelves of reference books and shielded by a privacy charm thin enough for the professor to monitor us, thick enough to muffle the room.
A narrow table waits inside, already lit by a hovering orb.
Valerius follows. The moment he steps into the alcove, the air seems smaller.
I place my parchment card on the table and refuse to look nervous.
He closes the distance with lazy arrogance, stopping opposite me. "This should be quick."
"Because you're so brilliant?" I look up at him.
"Because you'll contribute nothing." He says without even looking at me.
The words are direct. They hit harder because he doesn't sound angry. Anger would mean effort. This is simply what he believes. I look down at the card before my face can betray me.
Historical Bond Case: Marek Thorne, Tempest. Isalia Venn, Veil. Trial Year 612. Outcome: Successful.
Ember Trial: Catacomb Storm.
I reach for the inkpot. Valerius gets there first.
His fingers brush mine. The world flashes gold.
I jerk back as if burned. The hovering orb above the table flares bright enough to throw both our shadows against the stone wall.
The privacy charm ripples. The parchment card lifts at the corners.
Somewhere outside the alcove, several students gasp.
My pulse slams through me. Valerius doesn't move.
His hand remains near the inkpot, fingers slightly curled, the black sigils along his wrist shift, like shadows waking.
His eyes lift to mine. For one terrifying second, neither of us says anything because there is no explanation for what just happened. None I can think of.
Then Professor Thorne's voice cuts from the classroom. "Problem?"
Valerius looks away first. The orb dims. The privacy charm settles. "No," he says smoothly. "Miss Starling startled easily."
Humiliation crashes over me. He says it so calmly. So believably. Like I am nothing more than a skittish powerless girl who flinched at a touch. A few students laugh outside the alcove. I want to disappear. No... I want to slap him.
Valerius slides the inkpot toward me with two fingers, his expression unreadable. "Careful, Starling. Wouldn't want the furniture to frighten you next."
I stare at him. My voice comes out low. "You are cruel."
Something flickers in his eyes. "Cruelty implies I care enough to aim."
The words settle between us. Sharp and ugly. For a moment, I hate him so much that it steadies me. Hatred is useful. Hatred gives me something to hold that is not fear, not shame, not whatever impossible spark lit the orb between us.
I pick up my quill. "Then let's finish this quickly so you can return to pretending you're above everyone."
He leans slightly over the table, and the scent of smoke and cedar wraps around me again. "I don't pretend."
Our eyes hold. The hovering orb pulses once.
Soft gold, so faint I almost convince myself it doesn't happen.
Valerius sees it. This time, I know he does.
His gaze lifts to the orb, then returns to me with something dark and searching beneath the arrogance.
Not enough to soften him but enough to make me afraid because for the first time since I woke this morning, someone is looking at me like there may be something to find and I do not know if I want him to find it.
Outside the alcove, Professor Thorne begins explaining the Ember Trial's bond structure to the rest of the class.
Inside, Valerius Draven and I stand across from each other in a pocket of charged silence, both of us pretending the air did not just turn gold when our fingers touched.
Tomorrow night, the Eternal Flame will choose and suddenly, for the first time, I am afraid it already has.