Chapter 74

Chapter 74: Chapter 74

Selene sat at the writing desk in her private quarters, a single candle flickering beside her. The parchment before her was blank, her quill poised above it. She had been sitting like this for nearly an hour, composing and recomposing the words in her mind.

Finally, she began to write.

Dearest Father,

I hope this letter finds you well. The Silvermoon delegation has arrived safely at Shadowmoon Academy, and our preparations for the showcase are proceeding as expected. Headmistress Isolde sends her regards.

However, I write to you now not with pleasantries, but with a matter of some concern. There are irregularities at this academy that I believe the King should be aware of before his arrival. Irregularities that involve certain students of high birth and the secrets they are keeping.

I cannot share details in a letter—walls have ears, and ink can be intercepted. But I urge you to speak with His Majesty before the showcase begins. There are things happening at Shadowmoon that may affect the Crown’s interests. Things that involve the betrothal contract. Things that involve the succession of the Astrlyn pack.

Trust me, Father. I would not raise these concerns if they were not significant.

I will write again when I have more information. Until then, please give my love to Mother and tell her I am thinking of her.

Your devoted daughter,

Selene

She read the letter twice, her amber eyes cold and calculating. Then she folded it carefully, sealed it with wax and the imprint of her family crest, and set it aside for the morning courier.

"Soon," she murmured to herself, her smile sharp as a blade. "Soon everyone will know what you are, Nyra Astrlyn. And when they do, your precious secret will destroy you."

She blew out the candle and sat in the darkness, waiting for the dawn.

The lake was still and dark, the last traces of sunset fading into the deep violet of twilight. Nyra and Corvin sat together on the cold stone bank, their shoulders touching, their reflections shimmering in the black glass water. The silence between them was comfortable now, the tension of the day slowly bleeding away into the cool evening air.

Footsteps crunched on the frost-covered grass behind them.

"There you are!" Finn’s voice rang out across the quiet bank, equal parts relief and exasperation. "We’ve been looking everywhere for you two. Do you have any idea how big this academy is? Very big. Very, very big. My feet hurt."

Nyra turned to see Finn striding toward them, Marek and Jasper following close behind. Behind them came Orion and Lucian, the latter still moving carefully from his healing injury but grinning nonetheless.

"We figured you’d be here," Jasper said, his sharp eyes taking in the scene—Nyra’s bloodied lip, Corvin’s bruised cheek, the way they were sitting just a little too close for mere friendship. "The lake. It’s where you always go when you need to think."

"You’ve been tracking my habits?" Nyra asked.

"It’s what I do."

"That’s not creepy at all."

"I prefer ’observant.’"

Finn dropped onto the stone bench beside them, his easy grin fading as he took in Nyra’s face. "You look terrible. No offense."

"Everyone keeps saying that."

"Maybe because it’s true." He leaned closer, examining her split lip. "Did Selene do that?"

"It’s nothing. Just a scratch."

"That’s not a scratch. That’s a battle wound. You should wear it with pride. ’The Lip That Defied the Silverwood Heir.’ Very heroic."

"Finn—"

"I’m serious. You stood up to her. In front of everyone. Do you know how many people have wanted to slap Selene over the years? Probably hundreds. And you actually did it." He grinned. "It was magnificent."

"It was stupid," Marek said quietly. "But brave."

"That’s our Thorne," Finn agreed. "Stupidly brave. Bravely stupid. It’s a gift."

Lucian settled onto the grass nearby, wincing slightly as his injured side twinged. "The whole academy’s talking about it. The cafeteria brawl. The joint apology. The punishments. I haven’t seen excitement like this since... well, since you came back from the Mistwood, actually." He looked at Nyra. "You do seem to attract chaos."

"It’s a talent," Nyra said dryly.

Orion stood behind Lucian, his arms crossed, his expression thoughtful. "The question is, what happens now? The showcase is less than two weeks away. The King is coming. And the four most prominent students in the academy are barely speaking to each other."

"Three of them aren’t speaking to the fourth," Corvin corrected. "I have no problem with Soren. He has a problem with himself."

"That’s... surprisingly generous of you."

"I’m not being generous. I’m being accurate." Corvin’s voice was cool. "Soren made a mistake. A significant one. But he’s not our enemy. Selene is the one we need to watch."

"She knows something," Nyra said quietly. "I saw it in her eyes. The way she looked at me. She knows something, and she’s going to use it."

"Then we’ll be ready," Corvin said. "We’ve faced worse than a jealous betrothed."

"Have we?"

"We’ve faced assassins. Poisonings. Rogue attacks. A cursed forest. A beautiful and terrifying Sword Sovereign who couldn’t admit his feelings." Corvin almost smiled. "Selene is just another obstacle. And we’re very good at overcoming obstacles."

Nyra looked at him—the sharp features, the calculating eyes, the unexpected warmth beneath the cold exterior. "You’re always so confident."

"I’m always prepared. There’s a difference."

Finn stood and stretched. "As much as I love this heartwarming moment by the lake, we should get back to the dorm. It’s freezing, and Marek gets grumpy when his toes are cold."

"I do not get grumpy," Marek said.

"You get very quiet and your eyebrows do this thing—"

"My eyebrows do not do a thing."

"They definitely do a thing. Jasper, back me up."

Jasper didn’t look up from the small notebook he had produced from somewhere. "The eyebrows do a thing."

"Thank you!"

Nyra laughed—a real laugh, warm and genuine—and it felt like the first time she had truly breathed in days. She stood, brushing frost from her trousers, and turned to Corvin.

"Thank you. For everything. For the lake. For the handkerchief. For..." She gestured vaguely. "All of it."

"You don’t have to thank me. I already told you." He stood as well, his whiskey eyes meeting hers. "I’m not going anywhere."

She smiled at him—a real smile, despite her split lip a

nd then turned to follow her friends back toward the dormitory. Orion and Lucian fell into step beside Corvin, their voices low as they discussed something she couldn’t quite hear.

Finn waited until they were out of earshot before he spoke again. "So. You and Corvin."

"What about us?"

"You’ve been spending a lot of time together. He gave you his handkerchief. You were sitting very close on that bench. Very close."

"We were talking."

"Talking. Right. Is that what we’re calling it now?"

"Finn—"

"I’m not judging! I’m just observing. You went from the Ice Wolf to the Serpent. That’s quite a transition." He paused. "Are you okay? Really?"

Nyra was quiet for a moment. "I don’t know. I’m still... processing. Everything with Soren. Everything with Selene. Everything with..." She trailed off. "It’s a lot."

"It is a lot. And you’re handling it better than most people would." Finn’s voice softened. "But you don’t have to handle it alone. You know that, right? We’re your friends. Marek, Jasper, me. We’re not going anywhere."

"I know."

"Good. Because if you try to push us away, I’ll just annoy you until you let us back in. It’s my specialty."

"That’s not a specialty. That’s a personality flaw."

"Same thing."

They reached the Undercroft dorm, and Nyra paused at the door. The familiar smell of damp stone and old books and the faint hint of Finn’s smuggled snacks washed over her, and for a moment, she felt almost normal.

"There’s one more thing," Finn said, his voice unusually serious. "About Soren."

Nyra tensed. "I don’t want to talk about Soren."

"I know. And that’s okay. We don’t have to talk about him." Finn met her eyes. "But when you’re ready—whenever you’re ready—we’re here. No judgment. No pressure. Just... here."

Nyra felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. "Thank you, Finn."

"That’s what friends are for. Now come inside before Marek’s eyebrows do the thing."

"I heard that," Marek said from inside the dorm.

"You were meant to!"

Ragnar found Soren in his suite, sitting in the dark.

The torches hadn’t been lit. The fire had burned down to cold ash. The only light came from the pale moon filtering through the window, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Soren sat in the chair by the window, a half-empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers, his dark hair disheveled, his eyes hollow and empty.

"You look like hell," Ragnar said, closing the door behind him.

"Everyone keeps saying that."

"Maybe because it’s true." Ragnar crossed the room and pulled up a chair, sitting across from his friend. "I heard about the cafeteria. About the fight. About the punishments."

"Then you know everything."

"I know what happened. I don’t know why." Ragnar leaned forward. "What were you thinking, Soren? Grabbing her like that? In front of everyone? After everything that happened in the garden?"

Soren took another drink. "I wasn’t thinking. I saw her walking toward Corvin, and I panicked. I needed to talk to her. I needed to explain—"

"You’ve had weeks to explain. Months. You could have told her the truth at any point, and you didn’t."

"I know." Soren’s voice cracked. "I know I should have. I was a coward. I was afraid of losing her. And now I’ve lost her anyway."

Ragnar opened his mouth to argue—to tell Soren that he was being dramatic, that Nyra would come around, that everything would be fine. But then he saw the expression on his friend’s face. The raw, bleeding pain in his dark eyes. The way his shoulders slumped like he was carrying the weight of the entire realm.