Not impatient.
Just understanding.
And somehow that was worse.
Because nobody ever understood.
Not really.
Not when it came to me.
My sisters certainly hadn’t.
Neither had my mother.
Especially my mother.
A powerful Witch from the Cordoza Coven did not tolerate mediocrity well.
And I had been mediocre at almost everything.
Too emotional.
Too distracted.
Too soft.
Too late.
My magic had manifested years after everyone else’s.
By the time I’d shown even the faintest signs of power, my sisters were already celebrated within the Coven for their gifts.
Me?
I got concerned looks.
Whispers.
Questions about whether something was wrong with me.
Then came the years of failed careers.
Failed magical apprenticeships.
Failed relationships.
Failed expectations.
By the time I received acceptance into Runevald, I was already way older than expected and desperate enough to treat the Institute like my final lifeline.
Because it was.
If I failed here? There was nowhere left for me to go. My mother had made that abundantly clear.
“Oh my gods,” I suddenly whispered, rereading the assignment instructions. “I have to do these calculations for all the realms?”
“Well,” Sten said dryly, “you would have to if I wasn’t letting you use my Celestial Mapping program.”
