And I couldn’t be more grateful.
“How’s your research project coming?” he asked.
“It’s coming.”
“You’ll need to be finished soon if I’m to convince the Mage Council to accept you.”
“They’ll accept me. They’ll have to,” I said.
His eyes sparkled. “They’ll be lucky to. But you need to be certain of the plague’s origin. Guesses won’t hold up under their scrutiny.”
I sighed. “Kelara’s found me a stack of books from Pa’abo to read through. And I’m still making a timeline from my trip to the coast. But I’m close. I feel it.”
“I’m rooting for you, Lyranore. I want to see my pupil shining at that conference.”
I laughed. “I know, Master. I’ll do my best.”
I bid Master Carter goodbye and wandered down the snowy lanes home, doors still hung with snowfest decorations—green garlands, pine needle paths, and crimson winterberry wreaths decorated the modest homes that made up our neighborhood. As I finally spotted my house in the distance, another familiar sight gave me pause.
David walked toward me, his coat buttoned to his chin, his hair trimmed shorter than usual. He hesitated at the sight of me.
“You look well,” I choked out.
I knew I’d see him again eventually. But I didn’t expect our meeting to feel so ill-fitting and stilted, not when he was once a second home to me.
He ran his eyes down my figure, and I fingered the light green wool gown I’d donned, a new purchase made with my show money. He cleared his throat. “You do, too.”
His eyes slowed as they lingered on my goosebump-riddled arms, the sleeves pulled up to perform magic feats. “You cut off your ribbon.”
“It’s been a year.”
He nodded.
“Are you… well?” I asked, shifting between feet, the snow crunching beneath them.
“Yes,” he said flatly, his gaze on his boots. “I’m doing quite well.”
“How’s your mother?”
“I’m seeing someone.”
I stepped back. “Oh?”
He nodded. “It’s going… really well. I think I’ll propose.”
I forced a smile. “That’s great.”
“Thanks.”
“So I suppose I’ll see you around?” I asked, my boots too tight, my cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and the cold.
“I suppose,” he echoed, walking past me.
When he did, my lungs finally expanded, the icy air fresh in my chest.
Where grief should have been, there was only relief.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
