Chapter 4
Talisa
That night, I barely slept.
Every time I dozed off, I saw Lord Lukhan’s face transform with cold fury, and heard the cruel laughter of the other students echoing in my ears as he and his hulking blond friend insulted me.
By dawn, I’d worn a hollow in the mattress from tossing and turning as I replayed every moment of our encounter, imagining all the clever things I should have said instead of blurting out that thoughtless comment about Fae ancestry.
What a disaster. And on my very first day here, too!
Dawn found me already dressed in the shapeless black academic robe that marked me as a commoner student. I smoothed the scratchy wool over one of my nicer dresses from home. Not that anyone would see it, but I felt more like myself.
“Talisa?” Mira’s sleepy voice called from the bedroom doorway. “Did you sleep at all?”
I forced a smile. “Enough. Are you and Juno ready for breakfast?”
Mira’s expression crumpled, her usual confidence wavering. “Everyone’s going to be staring at us because of what happened yesterday. What if we run into that awful Lord Lukhan and his giant friend again?”
I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around her. “We can’t starve ourselves just because of some bully. Remember what you and Juno did to Eadwin Fugolson?”
She snorted into my shoulder.
“No one messes with folk from Bernswick,” Juno declared, emerging from the bedroom. “Not even some fancy lord’s son with better clothes than sense.”
That earned us a shaky smile from Mira.
I helped straighten their new robes, swallowing the lump in my throat as I noticed how young they both looked in the shapeless black garments. They were barely thirteen, far from home, with only me to protect them.
I wondered whether Mama was having any luck selling her jewelry in the city, and felt a renewed spurt of guilt.
Even though it wasn’t my fault that Lady Adalburga hadn’t filled out the scholarship paperwork correctly, I still hated that my sisters and I would cost our parents so much money.
“Listen to me,” I said, patting Juno’s back. “No matter what anyone says to us, we’re going to hold our heads high and not let any of them make us feel small. We belong here as much as any of them.”
They nodded solemnly, and I wondered if they believed me. I wasn’t sure I believed myself.
As we made our way over to the dining hall a short time later, I noticed the morning sun here in the capital felt much warmer than back home. Flowers still bloomed everywhere on campus.
In Bernswick right now, Papa and Jacinthe would be busy harvesting the last of the herbs and vegetables from our garden before the first frost killed everything.
As we entered the dining hall, a few students cast curious glances our way, but most seemed too focused on their own conversations to pay us much mind. I silently thanked the Divine Mother for small mercies.
We’d gotten our bowls of porridge and mugs of tea, and were heading for one of the commoner’s tables when I noticed the whispers and conversations pausing as we passed by the commoners’ tables. My shoulders tightened as heads turned and people stared at us.
“That’s her,” I heard someone whisper. “The one who stood up to Lord Lukhan.”
“Insulted him right to his face,” added another voice.
I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, but I could feel the weight of the unwelcome attention pressing down on me. Divine Mother protect me, what have I done?
When we’d seated ourselves at one of the long tables, I finally risked a glance around.
I was startled to find several first-year students—commoners like us—looking back at me with open admiration.
A slight first-year girl with braided red hair leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table. “Is it true?” she demanded. “Did you really tell Lord Lukhan that his mother dresses him funny?”
“What? No—I—” I stammered, but before I could correct her, someone else cut in.
“I heard she challenged him to a magic duel.”
“And that she’s the daughter of a sea witch and can raise storms with her song.”
The absurd rumors multiplied around us, growing more outlandish with each new comment. I felt Mira and Juno pressing closer to me, half-embarrassed, half-proud.
“Good morning, rebel queen!”
I looked up at the cheerful tone to find Elio sliding onto the bench beside me. He was grinning, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. “I see your legend grows by the hour.”
I scowled at him. “You know none of it’s true.”
“No?” He raised an eyebrow. “You mean you didn’t transform into a mermaid and threaten to drown Lord Lukhan in the river?”
I snorted, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. “Now you’re being silly.”
“Pity. That story is my favorite.” He stretched his long arms above his head, the wide sleeves of his black robe sliding back to show off close-fitting fine green velvet beneath. “Though I must say, the real version was impressive enough. Not many are brave to stand their ground against that pair.”
“It wasn’t bravery,” I admitted quietly. “Just stupidity and exhaustion. My mama is always warning me about losing my temper.”
“Sometimes that’s all courage is.” Elio’s grin turned crooked.
Something warm unfurled in my chest at his words and the way he was smiling at me.
That same strange sensation I’d felt yesterday—like a magical charge running through my veins—returned as our eyes met.
“I didn’t come here to start trouble,” I whispered.
“Trouble found you anyway,” he replied. “See how those first-years are looking at you? You’ve just become their champion.”
I blew out a breath. “I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.”
“Really?” Elio frowned. “I’ve only been here a few days, but I already know we need people who won’t keep quiet when those over-bred spoiled brats are trying to push us around.”
I glanced at Mira and Juno, who were warily observing a group of noble-born students tossing spiced buns at each other in the center section.
“I didn’t come here to fight the nobles,” I protested. “I came here to learn magic and take care of my sisters.”
Elio nodded. “And if the battles come to you anyway?”
I thought about my sisters, who would be all alone in this place for six years if I got myself expelled, and tried to ignore the younger students looking at me with hope in their eyes.
“Then I’ll fight back. But I’m just a girl from the islands,” I protested. “Not a warrior or a leader.”
“Maybe not,” Elio agreed. “But you and I might be exactly what this place needs.”
∞∞∞
The assessment hall was in the north wing of the First-Year Quad.
The doors swung open to reveal a vast lecture hall with tiered sets of benches and long writing tables rising steeply from a central stage area. I stopped, the twins bumping into me from behind, as I took in the scene.
The seating was divided into upper and lower sections by a series of temporary wood and cloth partitions.
Predictably, the center and lower sections were filled with students whose black gowns bore colorful coats-of-arms and gold-thread embroidery, while the upper tiers held students wearing plain academic gowns like us.
“They’ve separated us,” I murmured. “Nobles below, commoners above.”
“Like we might contaminate them,” Juno said bitterly.
I nudged my sisters toward an empty bench in the upper section, trying not to let my anger show.
The murmuring crowd fell silent a few minutes later as a tall figure strode onto the stage below.
I instantly recognized Mage-Instructor Mundise. Their dark blue robe was cut from velvet and trimmed with gold braid.
“First-year students,” they announced, a charm carrying their voice to the lecture hall’s highest tiers.
“Welcome to the Imperial Academy for the Magical Arts. For the past two centuries, this has been the premier institution for education and research into the many aspects of magecraft. I am Mage-Instructor Mundise. I oversee the first-year placement exams and teach the Fundamentals of Magecraft for the first, second, and third-year students.”
They snapped their fingers, and a line of older students filed onto the stage behind the speaker’s podium, each carrying stacks of printed papers.
Mundise continued, “Today’s assessment will determine your class placements.
This is not a test you can pass or fail, and your scores will not affect your academic rank or grades.
It’s designed to reveal your current knowledge of magecraft so that I and my colleagues can assign you to the classes that will best advance your education here. ”
As Mundise was speaking, their teaching assistants began distributing the examination papers. They moved up the stepped aisles with brisk efficiency, starting with the noble students in the lower sections before working their way up to where we commoners sat.
“You have two hours,” Mundise continued. “Answer as many questions as you can, to the best of your ability. It’s permitted to skip questions if you don’t know the answers.”
A thin-faced fourth-year student finally reached our row and slapped a stack of examination papers onto the end of the long writing table. The examination consisted of three sheets of paper clipped together. Each page was covered in printed questions, organized into sections.
Mira and Juno each took a test and slid the stack over to me. I grabbed one then passed them on to Elio.
As I scanned the first page, I saw the first section contained questions about basic magical principles drawn straight from Mage Sancola’s The Theory and Practice of Magecraft.
I’d been answering questions from this book since I was twelve. Mama and Papa had tutored my sisters and me to prepare for the day when a new Provincial Magecraft Aptitude Examiner would finally arrive in the islands.
The second section of the test focused on knowledge around the practical applications for magic, such as how to stabilize a potion during the critical third phase of brewing, which runes to use for anchoring various common charms, and the best arcane channeling methods for each of the four magical elements.