Then—a hand on his shoulder.
He turned. Dragonfly was watching him. No smile, just presence. A grounding current in a world spinning too fast.
He took her hand. Squeezed. Let go.
He stood.
His legs felt boneless, like he was walking through molasses. But he walked. Step by step, toward the heavy, polished doors.He couldn’t count how many times he’d entered this building before. But today, it had teeth.
Still—Aries had gone. Nic had gone. And now it was his turn.
Collin pressed his hands to the wood.
Pushed.
And stepped into whatever future waited.
Inside the dimly lit meeting hall, his friends were clustered near the wall like they were waiting for bad weather to pass. They had clearly heard Sol’s voice echoing from outside—his arrival earned no surprised looks.
Aries reached out and tugged him firmly by the elbow. “Join the condemned;”
Collin pulled free with a faint scowl. “Are we here for execution or just an etiquette exam?”
Nic sighed theatrically. “Honestly, either way. I’m overdressed.”
Collin scanned the cavernous space. No guards. No formal seating. Just dim light, dust, and the crack of nerves. The rear doors to the grassy yard were slightly ajar. For a breathless second, he wondered if he could make a break for it. Then came the quick-fire images: himself tackled mid-sprint, stabbed in the leg, or worse—hauled back in disgrace. The urge faded quickly.
“Whatever grading scale they’re using, it’s clearly flawed,” Nic said, elbowing Uriah and Collin in turn. “I mean, look at us. Bright-eyed, moderately competent, devastatingly handsome.”
But his gaze lingered a beat too long on Uriah’s stricken expression, and his next words were quieter. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Collin tried to smile, but the expression didn’t quite stick.
“In all seriousness,” Nic said, glancing around, “where are all the polished, silk-wearing children of the elite? My group had a few—they’re nowhere in here. Curious, no?”
“Must be a separate room with pastries and embroidered rejection letters,” Collin muttered.
Clive nudged Lekyi with a grin. “Well, you’re the fanciest one here, even if your boots don’t match.”
Lekyi huffed. “In what world am I high society?”
“Nic has a point,” Aries said quietly.
Collin frowned. James hadn’t been called, and he was practically royalty—wealth, rank, and a steward father. “Maybe they’re calling us from worst to best. We’re just the warm-up act.”
Nic smirked and gave Collin a resigned thump on the back. “Warm-up act, huh? Think they’ll boo us offstage or just set the stage on fire?”
“Who was in your group?” Clive asked.
“Charlie, the doctor’s apprentice. His father’s a steward. And Ken—the captain’s son, built like a siege tower,” Nic replied.
“And Liam,” added Aries. “He held up well. His father’s a lawyer.”
“River says Charlie’s decent,” said Nic with a shrug. “And Liam is Helen’s cousin on her mother’s side. Don’t know much about Ken except he travels with a full entourage of bootlickers. As for the girls—Helen, Stella, Dinah—all from high-ranking families. Larissa’s father sits on the education panel, not that I mind the girls escaped this—whatever it is.”
The group fell silent a moment. The hall creaked with age.
The absence of their more privileged peers loomed heavier than the heat outside.
