Chapter 10

M ost days, Dae considered herself a patient person. Today wasn’t one such day as she waited for Eunny to thumb back through the same section of Sylveren University’s student handbook. For the fourth time.

“It’s a short section,” Dae said.

Eunny’s gaze flicked toward her, unimpressed, then back to the thin folio Dae had brought. “It says ‘real or perceived’ conflict of interest. Perceived. That could come back to bite you.”

Dae put her head in her hands and groaned.

Eunny nibbled on a teacake. “I can’t believe you didn’t recognize him.” The teacake didn’t hide her sly smile.

“It was dark. He was wearing a mask. A glamoured mask!” Dae whisper-shouted, mindful of their surroundings. It was quiet in the Mighty Leaf, and their corner table offered some privacy, but Dae’s jumpiness remained. Irrational as the thought was, she’d half-expected everyone she encountered as she made her way to town to stare. To see her and know, to point at the student who’d gleefully fallen into bed with her ex-tutor and supposed-to-be new boss. Guest lecturer for the eco resto seminar. Godscursed prince of Rhell. Any minute now, she dreaded someone coming into the teashop and handing her a notice of her scholarship being rescinded, her admittance to the university revoked. The vague wording in the handbook with regard to student-faculty dealings coupled with Ezzyn’s murky status as more of a fellow student than staff did little to set her mind at ease. She’d trekked into town hoping for clarification or, barring that, at least some commiseration from her best friend. Such compassion had been rather spare in coming. If Dae didn’t know better, she would suspect her dear childhood sister-in-all-but-blood was rather enjoying the predicament.

“I don’t know if that makes it better or worse. Those cheap glamours only do basic changes.” Eunny smirked. “I note that you came here asking about prohibition, not misconduct.”

Dae glared at her.

“I take it the sexual relations were consensual?” Eunny said. “Enthusiastically so?”

“Shut up.”

“Enthusiastic consent, then, noted.” Eunny tapped her finger against her chin. “Truth? It’s nice to see you’re enjoying yourself up here.”

“I hadn’t planned on it going like this.”

Eunny made a dismissive noise. “Oh, please. There’s been something unrequited between you two forever. It was obviously mutual when you ran into each other here last week.”

“We— No—there is not something unrequited,” Dae sputtered.

“Not anymore.”

“You sound like him. Out of his system.”

“Do I?” Eunny cocked her head to the side. “Interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your eyes might need checking, but he doesn’t have that excuse. You said he knew it was you.” Eunny took a sip of her tea. “The ‘fuck it out of his system’ angle? You two are…” She gave a low whistle.

“We aren’t anything. History. Past tense.” Dae rubbed her temples. “I took an assistantship with him. What am I supposed to do?”

“Keep it.”

Dae’s hands faltered, pressing against her head. “What? Why? I can’t.”

“Do you really have a choice?” Eunny asked. “It’s going to keep you at Sylveren. It might be a little awkward, but—”

“He lied to me.”

“True, and lying is bad,” Eunny agreed, bowing her head. “But close proximity, denial over the requitedness of the feelings, and he’s technically going to be your boss? This is just ripe for something to—”

“It was a mistake,” Dae said. “Unwanted. Never to be repeated.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Eunny said. “Give me the whole story, though. Why did you kiss him?”

“He kissed me!” In the back of her mind, Dae felt a slight twinge, a niggle not of doubt but … correction. She ignored it. “Anyway, it happened because I needed to hide. From Brint.”

She explained the sudden arrival of her ex-fiancé and the swirl of rumors he’d brought with him. Eunny swore, her earlier good humor replaced with disgust.

“I’ll see if anyone in town knows anything.” She crossed her arms, mouth twisting. “He didn’t try and get in touch with you before he just showed up? A week after term’s already started? Seems odd.”

Dae shook her head. “No, but it’s only a matter of time before I can’t avoid him any longer, I’m sure.”

“Well, the Valley is bound to hate him, so there’s that. He never struck me as the persevering type, so maybe he’ll leave at midwinter for good.”

“The Valley will kick him out?” Dae said, hope rising.

Eunny’s sigh squashed her budding optimism. “If only. Doesn’t work like that. But it’ll try in its own way. Having never been unloved by this place, I don’t have firsthand experience, but it just … lets you know.” She gave a vague wave of her hand. “It’s a subconscious thing.”

“As long as Brint leaves me alone, I don’t care what he does,” Dae said. “He’s a light mage. In theory, we shouldn’t see each other.”

“Especially if you’re taking that seminar. Calm yourself.” Eunny held up a hand to stay Dae’s indignation. She waved to someone over Dae’s shoulder. “I want you to meet a friend of mine. She’s a grovetender studying for her Magister One, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I keep changing my mind. Hi, Eunny,” a quiet, shy voice said.

Dae turned to introduce herself, startling with belated recognition. “You’re the grape—girl.” She caught herself from saying “thief” at the last second.

The white-haired younger woman blushed, but her laugh was good-natured. “Um, yes. Hi. I’m Zhenya Lee.”

Dae shook the offered hand. “Anadae Helm.”

They snagged a third chair so Zhenya could join them as a server brought her tea.

“What was all that stuff from the social for?” Dae asked.

“Sending samples to my mama. The vinery keepers wouldn’t let anyone try them before the social.” Zhenya made a face. “My family lives just down in North District, but Mama can’t stand the Valley. We’re both grovetenders, focusing on inscription work. I wanted to send her a place card since I made the ink for them.”

There was something charming about picturing Zhenya mailing off pilfered place settings and pressed grapes—or whatever she did to make them mail-worthy. It put a smile on Dae’s face, albeit a wistful one. Hard to imagine her own mother being happy to receive water from the Valley.

Eunny’s instinct to introduce the two proved savvy, as Zhenya was also taking the ecological restoration seminar. Eunny sent the pair of them off an hour later as she left to open her repair café for a communal crafting shift.

“I expect updates on further developments of the now-requited love,” she murmured into Dae’s ear as she hugged her goodbye.

“You’re a menace,” Dae grumbled before heading back to the school with Zhenya.

The walk gave them time for Zhenya to fill Dae in on what the first seminar session had covered, as well as provide a new perspective on the school as a whole. Though Eunny had done her Initiate levels there and now lived in the Valley, Dae was hesitant to delve too much into magic in their conversations. Eunny was so relaxed about her withdrawal from magic use, perhaps too relaxed. While she didn’t shy away from the subject, Dae hadn’t missed how her friend didn’t linger over it, either. Never broached it first. Whatever had happened during the failed diplomatic mission, the specifics of her captivity, and especially the fallout that had occurred in the Song family after Eunny’s rescue, the answers were wrapped in thorns.

But Zhenya? Within minutes of meeting, she gave the impression of having lived and breathed the university since her primary days.

“Since North District is so close, I got into a specialized study course during winter break when I was sixteen. Ten years later and I just kind of never left. I mean, I did for the rest of primary, but I was up here all the time,” Zhenya said. “I work for Professor Saren Rai over in herbalism as his research assistant, and I help with the lab for the introductory inscription course. I just love it here.” She spread her arms wide to encompass their surroundings.

The Valley seemed to love her back. There was a rosy glow to Zhenya’s light brown cheeks. The wind played with her white hair, causing loose wisps from her bun to dance in the air, whereas Dae’s own hair whipped about her face. Still, it didn’t sting, and something about the breeze made her feel light. Energized, almost as if the wind scooped her forward every few steps. She wondered if this was the Valley’s way of getting a feel for her. Judging her worthiness.

Dae didn’t think she’d ever have quite the same level of belonging as Zhenya did, but she hoped for a little. The younger woman’s love for the place was infectious. As she described more of university life and what Dae could expect from an assistantship and her Adept One courseload, Dae felt a touch of relief. Of calm. And a swell of optimism she’d lacked in her first week. She loved having Eunny close in town, and now with a new friend at the university as well, Dae allowed herself to think that maybe she did belong. Never mind that she had no formal magical education, or that Brint had decided to show up out of nowhere, rumor mill in tow. And Ezzyn … Dae didn’t know what to make of that. Of him and his choice of words. It didn’t matter. They’d figure out some sort of workable armistice. She would have her quiet year, requiting nothing so far as Ezzyn-godsdamned-Sor’vahl was concerned. She wouldn’t think of him at all, as he so clearly wished to be free of her.

“Ana! Hey, Ana.”

Crossing the courtyard in front of the Towers’ central atrium, Dae had nearly made it to the door when the sound of her name brought her up short. Though, that particular version of her name and the unfortunate familiarity of the voice speaking made her want to quicken her step. Brint’s voice had a way of carrying that made it difficult to miss. Dozens of people were about, some on their way to or from the Towers while others hung around, mingling between classes. Plenty of people to witness if she tried to ignore him.

Dae paused before the atrium doors and turned around, her public smile in place. Brint waved and called out a greeting—by name—to a pair of students heading inside before he stopped in front of her. Dae’s smile became a bit more forced. Of course, only Brint Avenor would’ve already made friends after being on the school grounds for less than a day. Ingratiating himself amongst people who had no idea how he’d snubbed their choice of school only a few months ago.

“It’s good to see you, Ana. I was hoping to run into you.” Brint flashed one of his dazzling smiles.

“Brint,” she said, tamping down a reflexive if untrue repeating of his greeting back to him. “I’m surprised to see you here.” Her brows knit together as she noted his fur-trimmed cloak.

He laughed, the sound so loud and cheerful it put her teeth on edge. He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and shrugged, a picture of affability. “You got me there. I was too hasty in judging this place. You opened my eyes, Ana.”

Her suspicion somewhat mollified, she said, “It’s Anadae. Or, um, I’m not going by Ana here.”

“I understand. A fresh start.” He winked at her.

“Something like that.” She nodded toward his cloak. “Cold?” The Valley wasn’t a particularly warm climate, but it wasn’t frigid. Winter in Central District saw temperatures far colder than today, and it wasn’t even raining.

“It’s a lot wetter here,” Brint said. He grinned. “I’ll adjust.”

Dae glanced back at the atrium’s glass doors. Inside, Ezzyn strode across the floor, shedding his cloak as he moved toward the main stairs from the side entrance. An idle look around made his step slow as he caught sight of her through the clear glass panels. His mouth thinned into a frown as his eyes swept over her and her companion. He turned away and continued up the stairs without any acknowledgment.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Brint craned his head around to peer at the door.

“Yes, actually, I have a commitment I need to get to,” Dae said. “Was there something you needed?”

“Just wanted to say hello, since I didn’t get a chance to see you last night,” he said. Dae forced herself not to fidget. “And, well, I wanted to apologize, Ana. Anadae! That’ll take some work.” He grinned, inviting her to do the same.

Dae mustered a weak smile.

“Things weren’t so great between us at the end, and I feel just awful about it. I’m having a bit of a fresh start of my own, and I hope we can continue being friendly.”

“I…” Dae’s head spun. His words were the understatement of the year, yet he was looking at her with the most earnest face. She had her petty doubts about him, but were they just that? Petty? Hypocritical of her, seeing as she had run off to Sylveren seeking to remake herself anew. Unfair of her to hold him in such contempt when he was here attempting to apologize. Maybe it was wrong of her to automatically doubt that he could ever be sincere.

So many years of his indifference, of his neglect, would not quickly be undone. But … she was trying to change, too, so perhaps she could extend Brint some grace. Peel back a touch of the cynicism grown by their tumultuous history. Sylveren represented so many facets of hope for her; what was one more?

“I’d … that sounds nice,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll both be so busy that—”

Brint hugged her. Yet just as quickly he released her and stepped back. “You’re a good friend, Ana-dae. I’ll see you around.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hurried to catch up to a group making their way across the courtyard toward the House of Syvrine.

Shaking her head at Brint’s turnabout behavior, Dae made her way into the Towers. At least she didn’t have to guess where Ezzyn’s office might be.

She found him not in his office proper but alone in the lab space attached. It was small, roughly the size of her room at Vanas House, but for anything less than Master level, a private laboratory was rare. Dae wondered if it was a perk of his royal lineage, but the cold look he gave her upon arrival kept any attempts at levity behind her teeth.

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment as Dae waited for him to finish writing notes on a steno pad. Her eyes trailed over him, followed the long lock of pale hair that draped over his shoulder to pool on the desk. She remembered how silky it had felt in her fingers. The smooth, sculpted shape of him.

Because it had been him. Last night. In her room. In her bed. In … fuck. It had been him behind the mask and the glamour, and he’d known the whole time.

“So. You made it. I wasn’t sure if you would.” Ezzyn straightened. “I take it I was deemed worth the risk to your reputation.”

Dae glared at him. How dare he be pissed at her when he was the liar. The one who wouldn’t suffer any consequences, fair or not. “Well, I didn’t have much choice in the matter, seeing as I need the job.” Dae shrugged. “But you knew that.”

An appalled look crossed his face. “I didn’t— Last night wasn’t because of—”

Dae dismissed his excuse with a flick of her fingers. “For all intents and purposes, let’s just pretend last night did not happen.”

“Didn’t happen?” he repeated, eyes narrowing.

Dae nodded. “I’ve already forgotten it. Moving on.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Have you now?”

“Yes. Though certainly not forgiven.”

He snorted. “I see. Very well. Every week I’ll have a list of tasks for you.”

“How often do you need me coming in?”

“As often as it takes for you to get through the list,” he said, his tone too baiting to be neutral. He raised his eyebrows at her in silent challenge.

“And if I have questions?” she said, matching his indifference.

“If I’m in, you may ask.”

“How generous of you.”

He ignored her. “If I’m not, leave a note.” He turned back to his office. “I’ll keep this low interaction. For your comfort, of course.”

“Excellent,” Dae snapped. “Much appreciated.”

He sauntered back into his office and Dae snatched up the list. Mostly organizing and acquiring supplies for his next set of experiments and transcribing a stack of notes. Simple enough, and no need to talk. Dae went about her work, and for the couple of hours that followed, they didn’t speak. Not once. When Dae finally left, she paused in the doorway. Ezzyn didn’t look up from his work, pen hovering above the page as he waited.

A short, soft puff of exasperation was all Dae allowed herself before she walked out.