Without preamble, he pulls a tin from his backpack and opens it, promptly offering the first to Eddy and the second to Pierce, of all people.
“Poisoning us all is a curious tactic,” the Carlton heir observes, taking one before plucking a scrap from his pocket and casting it.
He really is checking it for poison.
Before I can do more than raise an eyebrow, Lambert’s tattooed fingers lift a cupcake from my box, handing it to me. “Come on, boss. Don’t you at least want to try it?”
Despite myself, I lift the cake to my lips, tongue darting out to lick the icing. Lambert’s pupils blow wide as they track the motion, but I barely notice, too busy analysing the new flavour.
Magic, it’s sickly. I frown, taking a proper bite next. They’re only small, after all. The cake and the sharp tang of raspberry balance the sugary icing better. Before I know it, the whole thing is gone.
“Anthea’s allergic to eggs, Dakari,” Pierce notes slyly, his gaze straying to where the other arcanist’s hand rests at my lower back. “You should probably know that, given your impending engagement.”
The Talcott heir doesn’t remove his hand. “Not. Happening.”
Pierce opens his mouth to speak again, but I hold my hand up for silence. “Before you all start bickering, there’s a covenant to be sworn.”
At the reminder, Lambert bounces out of his seat. “I’m ready!”
“Covenant?” Eddy asks. “What’s that?”
Pierce rolls his eyes. “Stars, what northern hovel did you find her in? It’s a magically binding vow. Even adept toddlers know that much.”
“Insult my sister again,” North growls, shoving to his feet with his fists resting on the table. “I fucking dare you.”
The Carlton heir’s eyebrows shoot up, those cold grey eyes screaming ‘try it.’
They’ve not even been here ten minutes and already we’re on the verge of a duel.
“Fuck you,” Eddy adds. “Great. Now that we’ve all insulted one another, can we put the testosterone away?” She reaches across the table to shove her brother back into his seat. “Jesus. Why on earth did Kyrith agree to tutor any of you?”
I’m honestly wondering the same thing.
Perhaps my sigh tells them as much because Leo nudges North, forcing him out of the booth. “Let’s get this over with. Librarian, are you doing the sealing?”
“Naturally.” I’m the only one here besides Eddy, and she’s not learned enough or powerful enough to cast a transmutation spell.
I struggle to conceal my smirk as they try to navigate the fact that they’re going to need to hold hands for this to work. It’s almost painful to watch. Of course, Dakari won’t hold hands with Leo, Pierce is almost universally loathed, and none of them want to be the first to offer their palm.
Except Lambert. He just shakes his head at them all, happilyholding out one hand to Pierce and the other to Leo with a beaming smile that—if anything—makes both of them evenlesseager to make contact.
Eventually, they manage it. Dakari plants himself firmly between Jasper and Pierce, and North bridges the gap between Leo and the Scot.
The Ackland heir doesn’t ask what’s next, and none of them ask for clarification about the vow they’re about to make. I suspect they’ve talked about it already, probably in that damned ‘group chat’ I’m still curious about. Not that it matters much. My part remains the same.
It doesn’t matter which of them I touch, but somehow my hands fall on Dakari’s chest, and opposite him, on Leo’s. The latter stiffens incrementally beneath my palm as my fingers brush the edge of his ensorcellment through the thick fabric of his turtleneck.
“Scrobi thiue thalail,” I incant under my breath, pretending not to notice his reaction or the warmth coming off both of them. “Scrobi thiue thalail… Scrobi thiue thalail…”
Deep below in the Vault, a grimoire flares with power as I speak. The magic of the Arcanaeum flows easily through the circle of arcanists. It builds and builds, washing over our skin in cool waves of energy. When it reaches its peak, I nod at them, never breaking the chant.
“We swear not to do physical harm to one another inside the Library, to protect it, and keep its secrets, and those of the Librarian.”
Their voices wash over one another, sealing the covenant. Directly across from me, Jasper’s left cheek glows with starlight as the runeform carves its way across his skin. His jaw works to hold back the grunt of pain that none of them will give voice to.
The magic sets, winking out of existence and leaving them all unblemished, which is how they’ll stay, as long as none ofthem break the covenant. The moment it’s done, they release one another, rotating their jaws and rubbing at their faces to dispel the lingering stinging sensation.
“That’s it?” Eddy asks. “So now they can’t fight?”
