Page 114 of The Fifth Heir

“Yes.”

“You used to forget for half the day when you worked in the archive.”

“Torren doesn’t allow that.”

“He doesn’t allow it?”

“He makes breakfast impossible to avoid.”

“Because you’re training together?”

“Because he’s irritating.”

The runes deepened to gold.

Camilla looked at them again.

I took a bite of honey cake to avoid explaining.

“Be careful what you tell them,” she said.

I stopped chewing.

“They’re your rivals, Talia. They may be protecting you now because none of them understands what the fifth selection means. If the Trials return to normal, only one person receives the crown.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Leander could have completed his path. He turned back.”

“And the result was declared inconclusive. Next time, he may not choose you over the crown.”

The warning should have sounded sensible.

Instead, it felt rehearsed.

Not false. Camilla’s concern was real; I knew every small tension around her mouth. But the words arrived too cleanly, as if she had chosen them before entering the Wing and waited for the safest moment to place them between me and the heirs.

I folded the cloth over the remaining cakes.

“Did Mother send anything else?”

“Questions. Father talked her out of coming with me.”

“Why?”

“She wants you to withdraw.”

The words hurt even though I expected them.

“She believes the academy is putting you in danger,” Camilla continued. “She isn’t ashamed of you.”

“I didn’t say she was.”

“You thought it.”

“Apparently everyone can read me now.”