Chapter 43 #2
Together, we closed our free hands around the Aurelian Ring.
The metal felt warm and alive against my fingers.
For one long moment, nothing happened.
Then the Crucible went utterly, completely still around us.
The last whisper of wind died. The floating fragments of stone locked into place, hanging motionless in the air.
And the deep, resonant hum that had underpinned every second of the match faded into silence so perfect I could hear the blood rushing in my ears.
The finishing bell rang, a single, resonant peal cutting through the silence and carrying to every corner of the amphitheater.
“Victory to Talisa of Bernswick and Elio Ferraro.” The herald’s voice rolled across the arena.
It was over.
The Ring hummed against my palms, its warmth bleeding into my skin. I couldn’t let go of it. My fingers had locked around the metal.
Then it dissolved in my grip and vanished.
Elio turned and flung his arms around me.
He caught me mid-breath, his body colliding with mine hard enough to knock the air from my lungs for the second time in ten minutes.
“We won! We won! We actually won!” he panted, laughing.
One hand cradled the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, and his other arm wrapped around my waist and lifted me clean off the broken platform.
And then he kissed me.
His lips were warm and dry and tasted of stone dust and a faint trace of the mulled cider he’d drunk at breakfast.
My mouth tingled. And the world narrowed down to the unbearably sweet pleasure of his lips caressing mine.
Without breaking our kiss, he swung me around. The world became a spinning blur of winter sky and fractured platforms and the distant, roaring wall of the crowd.
I giggled, half-hysterical and utterly, completely free, and kissed him back. I’d dreamed about kissing him for weeks, and dirty, bruised, and exhausted as we were, this was a hundred times better than any of my wistful fantasies.
When our kiss finally ended, and he set me down, my knees buckled.
He caught me before I could stumble and steadied me against his chest. I buried my face in the side of his neck where his skin smelled like sweat and magic and Elio.
We stood there, embracing, on the broken summit of the Ascendant Platform, with three thousand people watching us.
For one perfect moment, nothing existed except the fact that we had won. And I could still feel his kiss on my lips.
Then the noise reached me.
The commoner sections had erupted into sheer chaos.
Students were on their feet, arms raised, voices crashing together in a roar that made the stone beneath us vibrate.
Banners waved. Someone resumed the stamping rhythm, a steady thunder that spread from tier to tier until the entire upper half of the amphitheater resounded with it.
The aristocratic sections lower down were quieter. Lukewarm applause rippled through their tiers, punctuated by scattered boos.
My eyes searched the dignitaries’ box.
Chatelaine Lirelle stood at the railing with her hands clasped before her, her expression composed in a careful, neutral mask.
Assistant Chatelaine Julissa sat perfectly still behind her, her spine straight, her face blank with shock, staring up at us as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened.
As for Domina-Regent Jacinthe—
She’d risen to her feet and was applauding us, her white-gloved hands coming together in measured, dignified claps. And she was smiling in our direction. It was the same warm, public smile she’d worn throughout her earlier speech.
The other imperial officials sitting in the box were applauding as well… except for Cresta and Bernardo’s parents.
Then my gaze was drawn, inevitably, to the floating fragments where the starting platform had been.
Cresta still stood there.
Her academic gown was torn at one shoulder, the dark fabric ripped to expose a yellow silk dress beneath. One of her elaborate braids had come partially undone, locks of dark hair hanging lank and dusty around one shoulder.
Her hands were clenched at her sides, knuckles white. Her blue-green eyes were fixed on me with pure hatred.
Half a step behind her, Bernardo stood with his mouth slightly open. His expression was slack with disbelief.
I held Cresta’s gaze. I didn’t smile. I just looked at her, across the wreckage of the course she and her partner had broken, and I let her see that I was still here.
She’ll make me pay for this. I knew that.
But that was a problem for later.
Because right now, standing on this broken platform with Elio’s arm around my waist and his kiss still hot on my mouth, we had just won two hundred and fifty gold aurei.
My half of our prize would be enough to pay Julissa’s unjust fine and ensure that when the academic year ended, my name would appear on the roster for the second year, alongside every other student who had earned their place here.
We would even have enough money left over to buy some new clothes, pay for our travel home at midsummer, and give Papa enough to cover at least some of next year’s academy expenses.
Money couldn’t make up for the pain of Mama’s death, but it might help ease it a little.
I broke Cresta’s gaze and looked back at Elio.
His expression was bright with triumph and something warmer underneath, something that made my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with magic or exhaustion or the bruises I knew I’d feel tomorrow.
“We did it,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. My throat closed around the jumbled words that were trying to escape. I was overwhelmed with a mixture of triumph, gratitude, disbelief, and hope that he might return my feelings.
So, I stood in his embrace, my arms around him, and I did not let go.