When I opened the fridge door, my eyes widened. On the shelf was a gray striped box, wrapped with an intricate teal bow. Inside were four small tarts, frosted with powdered sugar.
It was those cherry pastries I liked, from my favorite bakery in Dolinska. How’d they get in here?
I feared they were deposited by Gabby. Maybe poisoned.
Then I noticed there was a tiny sticker on the side of the box that said the tarts were gluten free. A softness swelled over my chest. People with CVID often developed digestive issues. A rule of having an immune problem meant that if your immune system wasn’t working, that meant everything else went to shit, too.
Over break, I’d started breaking out in hives whenever I ate anything with wheat or gluten in it— that was before I’d begun throwing up. All my life I’d eaten bread, but now it had a tendency to make me sick. I’d changed my diet over break, so I avoided anything that wasn’t gluten-free (which sucked, because hardly anything in Malovia was).
I hadn’t told anyone yet, except my mom, because it was one more thing that made me different... not to mention made it inconvenient as hell for people to eat with me. But whoever had put these pastries here knew.
I decided I didn’t care if they were poisoned, because I was starving, and dove in. Heaven rose in my taste buds as I devoured the flaky crust. I hadn’t eaten anything resembling bread for weeks. Jelly splashed upon my tongue and gave a sweet, yet sour taste. I nearly cried with happiness. They were just the thing to perk my spirits up.
The cherry pastries were charmed with a cuteness illusion. The surrounding colors tinted to shades of pink and red. As I walked to class, I saw little hearts rise above the heads of students walking by, and pop, making squealing sounds. The air seemed fizzy and bubbling, like the world was dunked in a creamy soda. I felt like I was floating on air as I strolled through the hallways of the university. I wondered if this was what Odette felt like twenty-four seven.
The illusion instantly faded when I walked into Lady Korva’s classroom. She’d put a ward on it, to prevent any students from using spells to cheat. She was the only teacher that had done so. She didn’t trust her students. I didn’t even think shelikedthem.
Gabby and her clones, Morgan and Melissa, were at the front of the classroom heckling. I ignored them and went to my usual spot in the back.
My heart contracted when I saw Kiara. She had her nose buried in a book, and didn’t look up as I approached. Her black curls were wild around her head, only contained by a small headband, and her yellow tie was loose.
Kiara hadn’t spoken to me since the King’s Contest, before we’d lost the crown. I feared I’d lost her friendship. I slid into the seat beside her. “Hey,” I whispered quietly.
Kiara put the book down. “Hey.” She didn’t say anything more, so the silence was pregnant and awkward.
I wasn’t a person for small talk, so I got right to the point. “Are you mad at me?”
Gabby let out a particularly annoying cackle. Kiara’s eyes drifted to her before they settled back on me. “No. But I am disappointed.”
That was worse. “I’m sorry I used the necklace. You don’t know how much I regret it.”
Kiara sighed softly. “You did what you thought was best. I know you were trying to save Ethan’s life. I don’t agree, but I understand. Let’s move on and forget about it.” She gave me a kind smile, and placed a hand on mine.
Relief coursed through my heart. I was so relieved. Kiara was one of my closest friends. I couldn’t stand to lose her.
“Enough mindless chatter,” Lady Korva barked as she strolled into the room. The conversation died down instantly— one girl dared to give a girly giggle, but when Korva rounded her dagger-like gaze on her, the alicorn shrunk down in her seat.
Lady Korva crossed her arms and scowled. “This is your second semester of First Year Illusion. Seeing as how so many of you girls struggled to pass your exams, I expect you topay attentionthis time around. Anyone who I deem not proficient will cease to move on to their next year of university.”
Geez. I thought she’d be in a better mood now that her son was going to be the future king, but I guess fucking not. You could paint this woman’s ass gold and stud it with diamonds, and she still wouldn’t be happy.
Lady Korva snapped her fingers. “Continuing our theme from last semester, we will begin by working on casting illusions on ourselves. For your first lesson, you must learn to transform the sound of your voice.”
We’d already learned how to change our appearances last semester. I had strained to change the color of my eyes, and now, I turned them and the color of my hair with ease— though I still struggled to hold facial features for longer than a few moments.
Changing your voice sounded difficult. But Korva expected us to keep up, because she cried, “Manipulating your voice is a trick on the ears, not the eyes. If you get it right, you’ll be able to hold the spell for as long as you please. This illusion is useful in matters of deceit.”
That made sense. The fae were notorious tricksters. Disguising your voice was very useful for going undetected and deceiving unknowing foes.
“To cast the illusion, imagine your voice as a collection of notes,” Korva said. “You raise or lower the pitch to create a completely new sound. Think of it as tampering with the volume of a song, rather than creating a new one. Those of you more musically inclined will have an easier time with this magic. Begin.”
Kiara and I faced each other. She cleared her throat before she waved a hand over her face. “How do I sound?”
“A little higher, but that’s all,” I told her. I barely noticed a difference.
Kiara made a face and tried again. “How about now?”
I almost fell out of my seat with laughter. “You sound like a fucking tuba.”
