Epilogue #2
Aurelia did that through my hand. The guilt still comes before I can stop it.
Thorne crosses to the window. "You are afraid." It's not a question.
"Yes." I nod.
"Of the pregnancy?" He asks.
"Yes." I look down at my stomach.
"Of telling him?" He asks.
"Yes." My eyes water.
"Of surviving it?" His expression softens.
My throat tightens. "Yes."
Thorne turns. The winter light catches the scars beneath his skin. There's no judgment in his face. Only patience.
"I don't know what the bond means for a child," I admit. "No one does. Valerius and I share one life. One ending. What happens when there is another heartbeat between us?"
Thorne's eyes sharpen. "Have you felt it?"
I nod. "Not through the bond. Not exactly. It's... separate."
The first time I felt it, I thought the Eternal Flame was calling me. A flutter. So small I nearly ignored it. Then warmth but not mine or Valerius's. A third rhythm.
"When?" Thorne asks.
"Six nights ago." I say.
"And the healers?" He asks.
"Professor Vale confirmed it yesterday." I say.
A smile appears on Thorne's face. Small and rare. Completely real. It changes him. For one moment, I see the younger man he must have been before responsibility became another kind of armour.
"You are carrying a child." Hearing him say it out loud makes the room tilt.
I press both hands over my stomach. "Yes." My eyes fill. The tears surprise me. I have cried so much this year. For death. For betrayal. For pain. These tears feel different. They frighten me more. "I don't know how to be someone's mother."
Thorne returns to the desk, but instead of sitting behind it, he takes the chair beside mine. "You have nine months of experience surviving impossible things."
"That's not the same." I shake my head.
"No." His voice gentles. "But you also know what it means to be loved badly."
The words hurt. He does not look away. "You know what secrecy can cost a child. You know what silence can teach them to believe about themselves. You know the damage created by protection without trust."
My mother. My father. Every choice made around me instead of with me.
Thorne continues. "That knowledge doesn't make you unfit. It gives you the opportunity to choose differently."
"What if I fail?" I ask.
"You will." I stare at him. He lifts one brow. "You expected reassurance."
"A little." I admit.
"All parents fail their children in some way. All teachers fail their students. All leaders fail those who trust them. Love does not make us incapable of harm." His voice grows quieter. "It asks us to repair what we can."
I look down at my hands. "What if there is something wrong with the child?"
"Because of Aurelia?" He cocks his head.
"Because of me." I look up at him.
Thorne goes still. The words hang between us. Because of me. The girl who carried forbidden fire. The vessel. The weapon. The person whose hand nearly stopped his heart.
Thorne leans forward. "Look at me." I do. "What happened in the courtyard was not yours."
"I touched you." Tears fill my eyes.
"Aurelia used your body." He reminds me.
"I felt your heart stop." One tear falls free.
"And I heard you fighting her." My breath catches. Thorne's face softens. "The others heard you scream that you could not stop her. I heard something more."
"What?" I ask.
"You apologised." He says.
I frown. "I don't remember."
"You did not speak aloud." His hand presses lightly over the scars on his chest. "You were trapped beneath her, and still, somehow, you reached me."
More tears blur him. "I'm sorry."
"I know." The same words. The same forgiveness.
This time, they don't come through agony.
They come gently. Thorne reaches across the space between us and covers my hand.
He has never touched me like this...Not as a professor checking magic, not as a ward keeper restraining power but as family. "You did not kill me, Valentina."
My mouth trembles. "I almost did."
"And then you came back." He says.
"For Valerius."
"For yourself," he corrects. "He gave you a path. You walked it." I close my eyes. His hand remains over mine. "You are not Aurelia," he says. "Your child will not inherit her because blood does not decide who we become."
My eyes open. "You believe that?"
"I have built my entire life around believing students can become more than what was decided for them."
A laugh breaks through my tears. "That sounds almost hopeful."
"Do not repeat it." He narrows his eyes.
"I absolutely will." I laugh harder.
He releases my hand and sits back. For a moment, we both look through the glass at the winter garden. A small group of first-years runs beneath the silver roses. One nearly slips. The others catch him. No one laughs cruelly. They simply pull him upright and keep moving.
"What do you think Valerius will say?" I ask.
Thorne considers. "He will become unbearable."
"He already is." I joke.
"Then catastrophic." He corrects.
Despite myself, I smile. "He'll be afraid."
"Yes." Thorne nods.
"He nearly died to save me." I remind myself.
"Yes." He nods again.
"What if he thinks this puts me in danger?" I ask.
"He will." My smile fades. Thorne's gaze remains on the students. "Valerius has spent most of his life believing love means standing between danger and the person he cares for. You may have to teach him that sometimes love means standing beside them instead."
"He won't like that." I laugh.
"No." Thorne shakes his head with wide eyes.
"Will you help me?" I look at him.
Thorne looks at me. "With Valerius?"
"With all of it." The child. The academy. The fear. The future. The parts of life my father should have been here to guide me through. Thorne understands without asking. His expression changes. The stern lines around his mouth soften.
His eyes shine faintly. "I thought your father and I would have more time to stop disagreeing."
My chest aches. "He respected you."
"He had an unusual way of demonstrating it."
"He was afraid of you." I admit.
"As he should have been." He nods. I laugh through fresh tears. Thorne's gaze drops. "He asked me once what would happen to you if he failed."
"When?" I ask.
"Years ago."
My heart stills. "What did you tell him?"
"That he would not." Thorne smiles.
"And when he did?" I ask.
Thorne looks out at the silver roses. "I decided I would not." The tears fall before I can stop them. He clears his throat. "The child will require training."
I laugh again, crying harder. "It isn't even born."
"An excellent time to begin." He jokes.
"You're not teaching my unborn child ward theory." I shake my head in soft disbelief.
"Then you are already making poor parenting decisions."
I wipe my face. "I missed you."
The words leave before I can reconsider them. Thorne becomes still. For the briefest second, grief moves across his face. "I was here."
"Not all of you." I say. He understands.
Since the battle, parts of him have remained distant. Not cold but careful. As though being loved by students became dangerous after so many almost died. As though surviving made him guilty. I know that kind of guilt.
I reach for his hand this time. "We're still here."
His fingers close around mine. "Yes."
I look toward the students beyond the glass. "Not all of us."
"No." He agrees. My father's absence enters the room. Seren's laugh. The shape of everyone we can't rebuild. Thorne's voice is quiet. "They should be remembered for more than the way they died."
"I don't know how to do that." I admit.
"Live long enough to tell the whole story." Thornes says. My hand presses to my stomach again. Thorne notices the movement. "When are you telling Valerius?"
"Today." I say.
"Good." Thorne smiles.
"You sound relieved." I laugh.
"I have been keeping this secret for nine minutes, and I already find it exhausting." He jokes.
I stand. He does too slowly. Before I reach the door, he speaks. "Valentina." I turn. Thorne looks at me with an expression I can't immediately name. Pride, perhaps. Love, though he would never call it that. "You will be a good mother."
My throat closes. "You can't know that."
"No." His smile is small. "But I know you."
The words follow me into the hall.
Arcana's memorial stands where the central tower once rose.
We didn't rebuild over the ruins. My mother refused.
She said the academy had spent centuries hiding its dead beneath new stone.
So we left the foundation open to the sky.
A circular garden grows there now. White flowers for the students.
Silver roses for the professors. Dark ivy for the spirits who remained to protect us.
At the centre stands a wall made from black stone pulled from the Hall of Passing.
Thousands of names are carved into it. Some from the battle, others from centuries of hidden purges.
Every Starborne Aurelia consumed. Every Shadowbound sacrificed.
Every student erased from Arcana's history because their magic frightened someone in power. We gave them their names back.
My father's is near the centre. Alaric Starling. Below it, someone placed a small silver flame. I know it was my mother.
Seren's name is carved nearby. Seren Ashwick. There are flowers beneath it every morning. No one admits leaving them. Today, there is a folded piece of parchment tucked between the stems. I don't open it.
I kneel before my father's name. The stone is warm from the sun.
"I'm pregnant." The confession sounds too small for the enormity of it.
I smile faintly. "You would have hated how I told you."
Wind moves through the memorial garden. The silver roses tremble.
"I wish you were here." My voice cracks.
The grief has changed in nine months. It's no longer a blade constantly entering me.
It's an empty chair. A voice I almost hear in crowded rooms.
A hand I still expect to find on my shoulder when I'm afraid.
"I'm trying not to be angry with you." The stone doesn't answer.
"You should have told me the truth." My fingers trace his name.
"You should have trusted me." A tear falls onto the black surface.