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"Anything else?"

He watches me. "Enough."

Typical. I almost push. Don't. Not tonight. He starts walking away. The bond stretches with every step. Not breaks. Stretches. Ten feet. Twenty. Thirty. Still there. Then he turns the corner. Gone from sight. Still there. A faint thread. Warm. Steady. Alive.

I close the door. Press my back against it. This is no longer an accident. No longer something that only exists when our magic touches. Whatever happened in Dominion it left something behind. And every day that something seems to reach a little farther.

Chapter Thirty

By Friday evening, I have made three decisions. The first is that I hate the Council. The second is that I hate dragon examinations. The third is that if Nyra attempts to put another pin in my hair, I am going to stab her. "Stop moving." She groans.

"No."

"Eirea."

Nyra." I copy her tone.

"You're making this unnecessarily difficult."

"I'm sitting completely still."

"You moved."

"I breathed."

"Exactly."

I stare at her through the mirror. She stares back. Neither of us moves. Then— "You're impossible."

I smile. "That's usually my line."

Nyra's roommates left nearly an hour ago. The room is ours. Which apparently means Nyra has decided my appearance is now a communal responsibility. Three dresses are currently abandoned across her bed. Two pairs of shoes lie beneath her desk. Someone's necklace is hanging from a lamp. I have no idea whose. And Nyra has somehow accumulated enough cosmetics to supply an entire theatre company. I look down at myself. "I was perfectly fine in trousers."

"You've worn trousers every day this week."

They're functional."

"So is armor."

"Exactly."

"You're not wearing armor to The Place."

"I wasn't planning to."

"Good."

"I was considering a dagger."

She stops. Looks at my thigh. Then at me. "You're already wearing one."

"Two."

Her eyes close. "Of course."

I smile and turn back toward the mirror. Fine. I'll admit it. She was right about the dress. It's simple. Black. Soft enough that I can move comfortably. The neckline lower than anything I've worn since arriving at Varethia but not enough to make me feel like I'm displaying myself for public inspection. The sleeves fall loosely from my shoulders. My hair remains mostly down despite Nyra's continued attempts to interfere with it. I look...Different. Not Councillor Vaelith's daughter. Not Caelen's little sister. Not the first-year with Blood Echo. Not the girl spending every free hour investigating things that might eventually get her expelled. Just...Me. I think. It's been a while.

Nyra appears beside me in the mirror. She's wearing pale blue. Of course she is. Against her pale hair and bright eyes, she looks almost luminous. I turn toward her. "You look beautiful."