Chapter 16 #2
I opened my eyes to find Elio standing in front of me, concern etched across his handsome features.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“The investigation is still ongoing, but you were right. I think they’re trying to blame Nadia and me for the explosion.”
Elio’s jaw tightened. “I’m not surprised, but I’d hoped…”
“And there’s more.” I told him about Mama’s missing enrollment records and the accusation of fraud.
When I finished, Elio took me in his arms. I clung to him, fighting tears and soaking in the comfort he offered. “I’m sure there’s been some kind of mistake with their record-keeping. Or maybe your mother changed her name after graduating?”
I blinked up at him. “It’s possible. I know she was a widow when she met Papa, because I have an older half-sister. She’s never spoken about her childhood or our grandparents. I don’t even know their names.”
∞∞∞
One week later
“The separation of elemental essences,” Mage-Instructor Mundise was saying, “forms the foundation of all advanced magical theory. When we understand how to isolate the pure essence of—”
Their voice faded to a distant hum as I stared unseeing at the diagrams they’d sketched on the slate board. Fundamentals of Magecraft II was usually my favorite class, but today I couldn’t focus.
It had been an uncomfortable week. I couldn’t forget Julissa’s troubling accusation against Mama, and rumors continued to swirl about what had really happened in that channeling laboratory.
Then the doors at the back of the lecture hall crashed open.
Six imperial guards marched in, their polished silver breastplates emblazoned with the golden imperial eagle. Their dark blue uniforms were crisp, their faces impassive. The officer at their head wore gold braid on his shoulders, marking his rank.
Mage-Instructor Mundise fell silent mid-sentence, their chalk hovering over the board. Two hundred heads turned to stare at the unexpected interruption.
“What is the meaning of this, Captain?” they demanded.
“My apologies for the disruption, Mage-Instructor,” the captain said, though his tone held no actual remorse. “Official imperial business.”
A chill ran down my spine. Imperial guards never entered the academy grounds unless something truly serious had occurred.
I’d heard the stories about last spring, when a fifth-year student had been caught performing forbidden necromancy experiments.
Mage-Instructor Mundise set down their chalk. “Official business in the middle of my lecture, Captain?”
“We have an arrest warrant for one of your students. Violation of the Mandatory Disclosure statutes of the Supernatural Relations Act,” the captain replied, his voice echoing in the suddenly silent hall.
Whispers erupted throughout the room as the captain handed an official-looking document to Mundise.
“By order of the Imperial Council,” he declared, “we are here to take into custody Miss Astrid Brunisenda, second-year student, for knowingly and willfully concealing non-human ancestry.”
“This is a mistake,” someone said, her voice shaking in the hushed lecture hall. “I’m fully human!”
My blood turned to ice as I spotted a girl seated in the middle section. Her face went greenish under her smooth tan complexion as every eye turned toward her. She looked my age, slender, with auburn hair and delicate features.
“We have a sworn witness’s testimony that your maternal grandmother was of Fae descent. A fact that you and your family deliberately concealed during your mage testing and academy application.”
Two guards moved purposefully up the aisle toward her. Astrid scrambled to her feet, looking around wildly as if hoping someone would intervene. No one moved.
On the dais, Mage-Instructor Mundise’s face had gone rigid, their lips pressed into a thin line.
“Please,” Astrid pleaded, backing away until she bumped into the student next to her. “My grandmother was only a quarter Fae. And I’m only one-sixteenth Fae. My parents honestly thought it too little to report!”
“Failure to disclose any supernatural ancestry, regardless of degree, violates imperial law,” the captain stated flatly. “The penalty is arrest and immediate expulsion from the academy. The Genealogical Inquest Office will determine whether further consequences are merited for this lapse.”
Students scrambled to move out of the guards’ way, clearing a path to Astrid. She looked desperately around the room.
“Mage-Instructor,” she pleaded, turning to Mundise. “Tell them I’ve been an excellent student. I’ve never caused trouble or misused magic.”
Mage-Instructor Mundise’s expression flickered with sympathy. “I’m sorry. I can’t interfere with an imperial warrant.”
One guard seized Astrid and pulled her out of her row. She didn’t resist as a second guard took her arm. The pair of them dragged her, stumbling, down the aisle towards the doors.
“This isn’t fair!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. “I’m as human as the rest of you!”
Frozen with horror, I watched them take her away. My hands were clenched so tightly that my nails bit into my palms. Mira and Juno, seated on either side of me, huddled close. None of us said anything… and I felt like the worst coward in the world.
Why isn’t Mundise stopping this? Doing something to prevent this injustice?
Only after the doors slammed behind them did the hall erupt in whispers and exclamations. Mage-Instructor Mundise raised their arms and called vainly for order, but the lecture was effectively over. No one could focus on elemental essences after what we’d just witnessed.
I glanced around the hall. Most of my classmates looked just as shocked and uncomfortable as I felt. But some—mostly the aristocratic students—wore expressions of satisfaction.
My gaze found Lukhan, seated with Damien and his other friends. His face had gone bone-white, and his hand clutched the edge of the desk before him. He stared straight ahead with a thousand-yard gaze.
“About time the authorities started cleaning house,” drawled a student from the row behind Lukhan. “It’s the only way we’ll keep our human bloodlines pure. Her kind don’t belong here.”
His friend nodded in agreement. “Bet you she’s not the only one hiding something. Genealogical Inquest should examine the peasants more carefully before they’re allowed to contaminate our classes.”
I felt sick. Not just at their words, but at my memory of Lukhan’s panic that first day when I’d naively asked if he had Fae blood. I thought of the elaborate dining-hall prank I’d orchestrated, which had stripped away his disguise and revealed his secret.
I hadn’t known what that could cost him.
For someone like Lukhan, exposure could mean public humiliation, immediate expulsion, and whatever “further consequences” the imperial authorities decided.
Maybe Lukhan isn’t just being cruel to me for cruelty’s sake. Maybe he isn’t just a bully defending his privileged position. Maybe he’s terrified that the same thing that happened to Astrid will happen to him.
A wave of shame washed over me. I’d treated his Fae blood like a weapon, using it as leverage in our petty war. I hadn’t understood the genuine danger it posed to him.
For the hundredth time since that first day, I wished I could go back and unsay my careless words.
And now I had to wonder: are Lukhan and his friends the only ones sabotaging me?
Or did the odd symbol on that vile flyer prove that the rumors of an anti-commoner secret society on campus were true? And that I was now their target?