Until Professor Azula says her name.
“Miss Vandermere’s control over her energy sphere has improved considerably. Her last demonstration showed significantly greater stability.”
Headmistress Moonhart takes a sip of tea from a delicate teacup, then sets it down onto the saucer with a gentle clink. “That’s encouraging. Do you feel more comfortable in your recommendation of her to the Arcanum Collective?”
My gaze flicks to Professor Azula.
She hesitates for a moment, her crimson eyes narrowing. It makes my heart thrum in my chest, battering against the thread still clinging there.
Finally, she nods. “Yes. She still has a tendency toward emotional intensity, but her progress is not to be ignored. If she performs well before the board, I believe she stands a strong chance at being selected for the fellowship.”
Relief floods through me, though I’m careful not to let it show on my face. I drop my gaze to the table, where my fingertip traces a whorl in the wood grain.
She’s worked so hard. She deserves this.
“Professor D’Arques, it seems your mentorship has benefited Miss Vandermere.”
I lift my head and meet Headmistress Moonhart’s blue eyes. She’s staring back at me with a slight tilt to her head, curiosity lingering in her expression.
For a moment, I can’t find any words to say. But all the professors are staring at me. I need to focus. I clear my throat, feeling the incessant thirst that lingers there now, then incline my head and say, “Miss Vandermere did the hard work herself. Any improvement made is hers alone.”
Professor Azula arches a brow, but she says nothing.
I cannot take credit for Maeve’s progress. I simply gave her structure, grounding, something to channel her focus and energy through. I may have unlocked a door, but she’s the one who stepped through it.
Headmistress Moonhart hums in contemplation, then takes another sip from her teacup. She glances at the parchmentlying on the table before her. “I see Miss Vandermere’s demonstration has been scheduled for the morning after finals.”
Professor Azula nods once. “Yes. She’s been notified.”
“Good. Thank you both”—the headmistress looks between me and Azula—“for assisting her. She shows tremendous promise, partly because of your fostering.”
Neither Azula nor I say a word.
But my mind is running. Because I may have assisted Maeve in better channeling and controlling her energy sphere, but I may have also complicated the path ahead of her. If I’m still feeling the pain of the connection between us, I can only assume she is as well.
Not to mention the fact that she’s been sick all week because of me, because I left her on that tower as her magic tore across the sky, causing a downpour that turned the campus into an ice rink for three days afterward.
The staff meeting continues around me, but I absorb little of it, lost once more in my thoughts of the purple-eyed storm witch. All I can think is that Maeve’s future is barreling toward her at an alarming speed, and I’m no longer certain whether keeping my distance from her is shielding her from harm or simply forcing her to face it alone.
For a brief moment, my eyes close.
The distance between us has not severed the connection; rather, it seems to have stripped it raw, leaving it vulnerable and exposed. And I desperately hope it doesn’t hurt Maeve’s chances of achieving this dream she’s been working toward.
I would never forgive myself if I altered her future in such a way.
When I open my eyes again and look once more out the window, the sky is unchanged, still painted in shades of gray. Yet the air feels thinner somehow, as if the academy is holding its breath for Maeve.
And so am I.
Chapter 52
Maeve
THE LIBRARY HAS BECOME MY second home—as it does for many students at this point in the semester. My cold is fighting a losing battle—finally—and I feel like I’m back in the world of the living.
Kind of. Except for the ache in my chest and the phantom sensations of Severin. Of his hunger. Of his loneliness. Of his pain, which seems to echo mine.
The girls have started asking about him, curious why I’m not sneaking out or showing up with fresh bite marks on my skin. But I told them I’m too busy focusing on finals and fellowship preparation right now. I still don’t want to talk about him. I don’t even want to think about him.
