Chapter Thirty-Three #2
Over the past four months, I’ve seen more and more of those marks show up on doors, the same as the tailor shop.
When I got back from my last training assignment I sketched it out for Rowan, cross-checked it with one of the old books Brian gave us: It’s the crest from the old Kingdom of Aurelia.
Never seen it before, figures though, it’s probably been wiped from every book in the Citadel.
Feels like some of the Innerlanders are working together, spreading something.
A message, maybe. I don’t know how it all connects with the Dragons, the black eyes, but we’re getting closer.
We’re making progress. That’s what matters.
“So where do we start?” I ask, walking over to the centre of the lecture theatre stage and stopping in front of Beth.
She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.
“Like this,” she replies as she launches a burst of air straight at my chest.
I barely get my Threads up in time to brace against it, stumbling back two steps as the force hits. She doesn’t wait, doesn’t explain, just moves, and for the next hour, I was right. Beth absolutely kicks my ass.
It’s not that I can’t fight back. I can, but I’m trying to keep my magic controlled, tight, focused. Every pulse I throw is deliberate, or at least, it’s supposed to be.
I’ve been storing my Threads, knotting them the way Talen taught me, so there’s more to work with now.
But unknotting them and releasing that power?
It’s like threading a needle while someone’s swinging a blade at your head.
Cognitively brutal. So most of the time, all I’ve got available are the loose ones that build up during the day.
But Beth doesn’t let up. She dodges most of my magic without blinking, throwing out clean, practised strikes while offering the occasional tip like we’re in a friendly spar.
She’s not trying to hurt me, just push me. Hard. I didn’t see much progress by the end, but it was my first session—and honestly, I’m just glad to be getting any training at all, though I’m surprised it’s from Beth.
“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to say yes,” I say, wiping the back of my wrist across my jaw as I catch my breath.
Beth doesn’t even look winded. No sweat, no tightness in her voice. “To what?”
“Training me.”
That gets a grin. Small, but real. “You’re not that unbearable.” She shrugs. “And besides, when I first got here, I was behind, too. Took months to feel like I wasn’t about to get flattened every time someone raised a hand.”
I watch her for a beat. She says it like it’s nothing, but there’s something tight in the way she ties her hair up. Movements a little too sharp. Like the memory still stings.
“Figured if someone had helped me catch up back then, maybe I would’ve gotten further, faster.” She glances over, eyes pointed. “And let’s be honest, I saw what you did to that window the other week in Quinn’s Demonstration.”
I groan. “Not my best moment.”
“No,” she says, not missing a beat. “It was a mess. And if you try that shit against Elijah, you won’t last five seconds.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Beth gives me another one of those smiles, thin, a little too even. “I’m not here to boost your confidence; I’m here to prepare you for Call Week.”
Brutal, but honest. I like it.
“So why did you need to catch up?” I ask, chest still rising too fast as I grab my flask and take a long drink.
“I wasn’t supposed to be here.” She shrugs, like it’s nothing.
“The spot was meant for my twin sister. She was the stronger, more talented one, the one with all the potential. They put everything into her. And I was just left in the background.” A pause as she adjusts her hair.
“Then she got sick. I’ve got two brothers, one’s a chef and the other’s in trade, and they never even considered coming here, but my parents wanted the Citadel status.
You know, the whole my-child-is-a-magical-prodigy brag.
” She glances at me, eyes flat but steady.
“So the spot went to me. Overnight, I inherited all the pressure, but with none of the preparation. She’s still really sick and needs a lot of care even now. We’re close. I miss her when I'm here.”
For a second, her composure slips, and I catch a glimpse behind the mask she wears.
As much as I hate to admit it, I’m starting to like Beth.
She still scares the hell out of me, but there’s something there.
Not friendship exactly, more like respect.
She’s blunt, honest, easy to talk to. She surprisingly doesn’t gossip and she’s careful and controlled with her words, like someone who actually knows how to keep a secret.
Though, I’d never say this to Ezzy. It’s bad enough when Finn even glances in Beth’s direction, no need to make it worse by letting her think I’m getting close to her.
I snap the cap back on my flask and turn toward the door, then stop short.
Talen’s leaning in the doorway, brow’s furrowed, mouth set in a hard line, one leg hooked over the other like he’s been standing there a while. His arms are crossed, but his fingers are working his talisman, rolling it over and over.
He looks pissed off. At first I think he’s angry at me, then I notice, he’s not even looking.
Just staring past me, jaw clenched like whatever’s on his mind hasn’t let go yet.
And of course, he still looks stupidly hot.
I’ve been holding it together for months now, but god, he is not helping. Looking like that should be illegal.
His eyes flick briefly to Beth; he gives her a simple nod and my gut twists.
I’d almost managed to erase those bloody sketches of her from my head.
Almost. And it’s stupid, Talen and I aren’t even together, the whole thing is fake.
But seeing them together, knowing she’s had him. That he’s drawn her...
Beth shifts beside me, “Everything good with you two? Looks a little tense. Trouble in paradise?”
“Oh, you know. Nothing out of the ordinary.” I keep my tone flat, bored, like the question doesn’t dig under my skin.
Beth gives me a knowing smile. The kind that says don’t worry, I’ve been there. Which only makes it worse, because she has. And I haven’t.
I want to know, I want to know more about them, I want to ask him, but we're not even in an actual relationship, so I just bite my tongue, pretend it doesn’t bother me. Pretend I’m not just some emotionally erratic girl with a crush on someone I really shouldn’t even want.
“I'd better go. Thanks for today, and for not taking it easy on me. Same time tomorrow?”
“Oh, I’ll never take it easy on you.” She grins. “Don’t worry about that.”
I give a nod and head for the door.
As I walk towards Talen, his eyes catch mine, and some of the tension in his face eases as he gives me a small smile, uncrossing his arms and sliding his talisman away.
But as I get closer, I can see he has a bandage wrapped around his left bicep, and he looks tired. I stop in front of him, eyes already moving—his shoulder, his side—scanning for anything else bleeding or broken.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, words more worried than I mean them to be.
When I look back up, the small smile he was wearing before has twisted—lips curling up at the corner, left first, then stretching into a full-on grin.
“Thorn... are you worried about me?”
“No. I mean... Yes. Well, maybe.” I clear my throat. “You’re training me, remember? I’d rather not have my teacher drop dead halfway through.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on dying anytime soon.” His smiles stays. “Just a few scratches, but I’m flattered you'd be so concerned.”
For a second, our eyes catch—and this time, they hold. Dark hazel, rimmed in gold. Focused. I’m standing closer than I’d realised. Heat flickers low in my stomach before I can stop it, but I force myself to look away.
“What happened?” I ask, breaking the tension, eyes fixed anywhere but his.
He hesitates, just long enough to notice. Then his grin fades, lips pull tight. Of course, he’s not going to tell me. What was even the point in asking?
“Come on,” he says finally. “We should go before it gets dark.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.” Then he turns and walks off, so I grab my pack and hurry after him.
Talen slows just enough for me to catch up, his boots echoing against the stone floor.
We’re halfway down the corridor—light bleeding in through the narrow windows, soft and dull, the kind that clings to the end of day.
It’ll be sunset soon, but spring means longer hours, and the sky outside still holds on to the last light.
His strides are longer, damn near double mine, so I’m half-jogging to stay beside him.
I didn’t think we were training tonight.
I’m wrecked from Beth, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and let the silence take me.
I'm too tired, too tired to keep tiptoeing around, holding back things I want to say, do, pretending like the kiss never happened. Like it didn’t mean anything.
It was a mistake. We both know that. But right now? I don’t have the energy to fake it.
“Looked like you were struggling with Beth in there,” Talen notes as we keep walking. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I huff. “First session. Just hoping it’ll get better with time. Call Week’s coming up, and I doubt it’ll just be Ryven or Elijah gunning for me. Ezzy said I’ll only get called once, so I’ll just have to face one of them. But still, I don’t know if I’ll be ready.”
Talen doesn’t even blink. “You’ll be ready.”
I glance over at him. “How can you be so sure?”
“I’ve watched Elijah. You’d take him easy. And before you say it—yeah, without blowing yourself up. I’m not worried. Not about them. Not about you.” He grins, then throws me a wink like it costs him nothing. Something hot flushes up my neck before I can stop it, and I look away, jaw tight.