“Everyone else doesn’t know me. Everyone else is convinced I’m…”Perfect.The word wrapped around her throat like a vise.
By any measure, Ellery Caldwellwasperfect. A Councilor’s protégée, magically gifted, with a rags-to-riches origin story that rivaled any movie heroine. Her beauty, too, seemed conjured straight from the silver screen. Blond finger waves accentuated each delicate feature on her fair, heart-shaped face, her large eyes a distinctive pale blue, her high cheekbones often flushed a rosy pink. She had no shortage of admirers, although if the rumors were to be believed, she’d politely turned each of them down aside from the occasional clandestine kiss.
She was polished to a sheen, poised for a bright future.
What no one seemed to realize was that she’d sculpted herself that way.
Five years prior, an awkward, unqualified girl had arrived at the academy on a wave of unexpected fame. She shouldn’t have lasted a month. But she had no home to return to. No other choice. So instead, she became a diligent student, not just of magic but of Aldrish culture. She styled her frizzy hair and invested in an eyeliner pencil. She eradicated all traces of her Northern accent. She absorbed the media her classmates consumed, the jokes they told, the accolades they bragged about. Until at last, Ellery was ready to play her part.
She hadn’t known all these years later it would still feel like a performance. Or that the Order would insist she forever play the role that had splashed her name across headlines: a hero.
“What’s going on?” Julian asked gently. “Is this still about Welk—”
“It isn’t,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“In the long and storied history of people who’ve claimed to be fine, not a single one has ever meant it.”
“Well, maybe I’m the first.”
Julian reached across the space between them, those long, elegant fingers a hair’s breadth from hers. He waited for her, a vestigial instinct, a habit Ellery thought they’d broken.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said seriously. “You can still talk to me. I promise.”
Julian was Ellery’s closest friend, but the echoes of their romance still lingered. Despite her ending it months ago, despite her wishing it had never happened at all, she still ached to confide in him.
“I-I…”
She remembered Welk recoiling from her, splitting open her palm. As though the Living Wand wasn’t just wrong for her—it despised her.
She clamped her mouth shut.
Julian tried to hide his hurt, but his gaze dampened, as though something within him had flickered out. Sometimes Ellery forgot that beneath all the bravado and boasting was a boy who just wanted to fix things.
But some things couldn’t be fixed.
“There you are!”
Ellery yanked her hand back, relieved, as Demelza Turner hurried toward them.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you both.” Demelza rummaged in her designer bag, then brandished a packet of paper triumphantly. “I passed!”
To test for each type of wand, a student had to score highly on a corresponding exam. Ellery had aced all three, not that it was helping much.
“Congratulations,” Ellery told her.
“Which one?” asked Julian, although his focus hadn’t left Ellery.
“Nature magic. I’m throwing a party to celebrate, obviously.” Demelza beamed, her hazel eyes aglow. Although exams started early in the morning, her pale cheeks were pink with blush, herlips glossed. Her coiffed curls, dyed a trendy platinum blond even lighter than Ellery’s, tumbled down her shoulders as she leaned to put her exam away. “I’ve already invited everyone else, but you twomustcome along. I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Of course I’ll be there,” Ellery said. Like Ellery, Demelza loved the modern trappings of Gallamere life. But unlike Ellery, she’d been born into it. Her parents, a movie star and a producer, were behind some of Ellery’s favorite blockbusters. Once this would’ve left Ellery starstruck, but such prestige was par for the course among the Order’s favorite magicians-in-training. They impressed in class and dazzled outside it. They were the children of politicians and celebrities and industry titans. They dreamed of their names on billboards and screens and headlines, and for many, those dreams became reality. The academy’s average graduation rate was 40 percent, but for the favorites it was significantly higher.
And Ellery walked among them. For now, anyway.
“Who’s everyone else?” Julian asked.
Demelza gestured around the alcove. “My sixth-year study group, the magical design club, that cute boy in Advanced Enchantment Theory…”
“So, half the academy,” Ellery teased. “Who else passed?”
