Chapter 34 #2
“The disciplinary board has reached their decision,” Nareen continued, her tone carefully neutral. “Miss Montero has been formally expelled from Vallemont Academy. She was escorted from the premises this morning.”
The silence that followed wasn’t shocked, it was exhausted. They’d all been waiting for this particular blade to fall.
Liri’s shoulders sagged slightly, her usual brightness dimming. Barrett said nothing. Oliver simply nodded, as if confirming a mathematical equation he’d already solved.
And Gideon… Gideon’s expression didn’t change at all. His dark eyes held that particular stillness that meant he’d known this was coming long before Nareen walked through the door.
“The board’s decision is final,” Nareen added unnecessarily. “You’ll need to adjust your tactical formations accordingly.”
“We’re down to five,” Oliver said, because someone had to state the obvious, and he’d always been good at that.
His fingers moved unconsciously, already calculating.
“More importantly, we’ve lost our primary defensive tank.
Verena’s manticore could hold a line against three opponents simultaneously.
Without that anchor point, our entire defensive strategy needs restructuring. ”
Cassara found herself nodding along with his assessment, even as guilt twisted in her chest. She’d wanted Verena gone, had dreamed of it after every cutting remark, every deliberate sabotage.
But standing here in the aftermath, all she could think about was the fierce pride in Verena’s eyes when Kaddock had been revealed.
The potential that had burned so bright before jealousy poisoned it.
“We’ve handled worse,” Gideon said, his voice cutting through her thoughts. There was something almost gentle in his tone, a captain reassuring his team even when the odds had shifted against them. “We’ll adapt. We always do.”
“The defensive gap,” Oliver started.
“Will be addressed,” Gideon interrupted smoothly. “I’ll use the upcoming break to restructure our formations. Work out new patterns that play to our remaining strengths.”
Cassara’s head snapped toward him. “You’re staying here for break?”
“My presence at home would be… complicated, given recent events. I thought I’d make better use of the time here.”
Complicated. Cassara could only imagine what House Delvanir would be like right now, with Verena’s fresh expulsion hanging over family dinners like a storm cloud.
“Well,” Barrett said quietly, the first words he’d spoken since Nareen’s announcement. “At least we’ll have time to figure it out without the pressure of matches breathing down our necks.”
“Indeed,” Nareen agreed. “Those of you departing for break should make your preparations. The academy transport leaves at dawn the day after tomorrow.” Her gaze swept over them one more time before she left as abruptly as she’d arrived, leaving the five of them standing in an uncertain circle.
“I should start packing,” Liri said into the silence, her voice smaller than usual. “My family’s expecting me.”
“Mine as well,” Oliver added, though he looked like he’d rather calculate defensive formations than face whatever waited at home. “The statistical probability of my mother not interrogating me about team rankings for the entire break is approximately zero.”
Barrett just nodded, already moving to collect his gear. His family’s expectations were quieter than most, but no less weighty for their silence.
“Go,” Gideon said. “Get some rest, you’ve all earned it. When we get back, we’ll be stronger for it.”
They dispersed slowly, reluctantly, as if leaving might make Verena’s absence more real.
Cassara lingered, watching Gideon reset the training markers with mechanical motions. He moved like someone who’d learned to find comfort in routine, in the things he could control when everything else spiraled beyond reach.
“She was talented,” Cassara said quietly.
Gideon’s hands stilled on the markers. “She was.”
“It’s a waste.”
“Yeah.” He straightened, meeting her gaze directly. “But talent without wisdom is just destruction waiting to happen. She made her choices.”
The words were matter-of-fact, but Cassara caught the tightness around his eyes. He’d known Verena longer than any of them, her loss had to sting.
“I’m staying too,” Cassara found herself saying. “For break.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “What about your father?”
“Would prefer I come home and submit to his plans,” she finished, not admitting the truth. She was scared of what might happen if she went back now. “Which is exactly why I won’t.”
He nodded in understanding. They stood there for a moment, two people choosing empty halls over complicated homes, finding solidarity in their mutual exile.
“Well then,” Gideon said finally, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. “I suppose we’ll have to suffer through the peace and quiet together.”
The late morning sun was just climbing into view as Cassara made her way across the frost-covered grounds toward the training halls.
Most students were packing for tomorrow’s departure, the dormitories alive with the chaos of trunks and farewells.
But she had other plans, starting with finding Auren before the morning’s second-year session ended.
As the second-year students filed out of the training hall in chattering clusters, Cassara waited in the shadow of the doorway, letting them pass before stepping inside.
She knew his schedule as well as her own—second-years until eleven, then weapon maintenance, then advanced combat theory. She’d timed this perfectly.
Except the figure cleaning up scattered training equipment wasn’t Auren.
A third-year she vaguely recognized was collecting practice blades, his movements efficient but lacking Auren’s particular grace. Her stomach dropped.
“Where’s Instructor Veth?”
The third-year glanced up, seemingly unsurprised by the question. “Left last night. Emergency leave, apparently.” He shrugged, continuing his work.
The floor seemed to tilt slightly. “Left?”
“That’s what I said.” The student’s tone suggested he’d already answered this question multiple times today. “Tav’s covering his classes until further notice.”
“When will he be back?”
“Didn’t say.”
Cassara stood frozen as he finished gathering equipment and left, the hall suddenly too quiet, too empty. No note. No word. No goodbye. After everything, after the ruins, after promises whispered against stone, after stolen moments between careful distances, he’d just… left.
The walk back to the dorms blurred together, her thoughts churning. Maybe there’d been a family emergency. Maybe the headmistress had sent him on urgent academy business. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Each possibility felt hollower than the last.
She’d been so careful, planning how to tell him she was staying. How they’d finally have time without Julian’s suspicious gaze, without the constant fear of discovery. She’d imagined quiet evenings, actual conversations that didn’t have to be cut short by approaching footsteps.
Stupid. She’d been so stupid to hope for some normalcy.
The common room door was ajar, soft humming drifting through the gap. Cassara pushed it open to find Liri surrounded by what looked like a craft store explosion. Ribbons trailed across the floor, paper scraps dotted every surface, and several small wrapped packages sat in a careful pile beside her.
“Oh!” Liri looked up, a smudge of paint on her cheek. “I thought everyone had gone to lunch. Sorry about the mess, I got a bit carried away.” She gestured helplessly at the chaos. “I’ll clean it up, I promise. I just wanted to finish these before the transport tomorrow.”
Cassara blinked, trying to shift her focus from Auren’s absence to the immediate present. “You made all of those?”
Pink colored Liri’s cheeks. “It’s a tradition in my family. Handmade gifts for the winter celebration. Nothing expensive or fancy, just…” She shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “Something to show you’re thinking of someone.”
Before Cassara could respond, Liri was digging through her pile, producing a small package wrapped in silver paper that had clearly been recycled from something else.
“This is for you,” she said, holding it out with both hands. “I know it’s not much, and the wrapping’s a bit wrinkled, and honestly I’m not very good at this kind of thing, but…”
“Liri.” Cassara accepted the gift, its weight surprising her. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.” Liri’s smile was soft, genuine. “You’re my friend. That’s what friends do.”
The paper crinkled as Cassara carefully unwrapped it, revealing a small leather journal.
The cover had been hand-tooled with delicate patterns, swirling designs with tiny stars scattered throughout.
It wasn’t perfect; she could see where the tool had slipped in places, where the pattern didn’t quite match up at the edges.
But it was beautiful in its imperfection, clearly made with hours of patient work.
“It’s for your observations,” Liri explained, fidgeting with a ribbon. “I noticed you’re always making notes on scraps of paper, and I thought… well, maybe you’d like something proper to keep them in.”
Cassara traced the patterns with one finger, her throat suddenly tight. She’d received gifts before, expensive ones, usually. But they’d all been transactions, investments in her future potential.
This was different. This was just… because.
“I didn’t get you anything,” she admitted.
Liri’s laugh was bright. “I didn’t give it to you expecting something back. That’s not how gifts work.” She tilted her head, studying Cassara. “Haven’t you ever gotten a gift just because?”
“Not like this.” The admission slipped out before Cassara could stop it. “Not without… conditions.”
Something shifted in Liri’s expression, understanding mixed with a sadness that made Cassara want to look away.
“Well,” Liri said gently, “now you have. No conditions. No expectations. Just a gift between friends.” She paused, then added with deliberate lightness, “Though if you wanted to help me clean up this disaster zone, I wouldn’t object.”
Cassara found herself almost smiling as she surveyed the craft explosion. “What were you even trying to make?”
“Bookmarks, mostly. Some hair ribbons. A terrible attempt at a carved whistle for my younger brother.” Liri held up what might generously be called a piece of wood with holes in it. “I don’t think it’s supposed to look like it’s screaming.”
This time Cassara did smile, settling down among the chaos. “Show me how.”
“Really?”
“I’ve never made anything before. Not like this.” She picked up a piece of unmarked leather, testing its weight. “Might as well learn.”
Liri beamed, immediately launching into an explanation of basic tooling techniques. As she demonstrated, chattering about leather grain and proper pressure, Cassara felt some of the hollow ache in her chest ease.
Auren had left without a word. That hurt would still be there tomorrow. But right now, in this moment, she had a friend who gave gifts without expectation, who had paint on her cheek and absolutely no idea her “screaming whistle” looked like a tortured carrot.
"Alright," Cassara said, adjusting her grip on the tool. "Show me again. Slower this time."
Liri grinned and launched back into her explanation, and for a little while, the world narrowed to just the two of them and the simple act of making something with their hands.