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I’ve broken the city’s laws. Adepts who commit such crimes are often expelled from the Arcanium, deemed unfit to become magi because of their volatile temperaments. This is why Archmage Gidston is unwilling to deal with the matter without my father present.
Now I can only hope that my father, despite his fury, won’t subject me to such harsh punishment. This is the first time I’ve used my magic to strike another adept outside of the arena. And it isn’t as if Kaely didn’t deserve it.
Surely they won’t expel me for a single mistake?
“Archmage Gidston,” Branvir says after a while, “we’ve been waiting for almost an hour for the Grandmage to arrive. Perhaps we should begin without him?”
Lorette pauses her pacing. “No,” she replies, “we cannot proceed without the Grandmage being present. Even with two Archmagi, this matter is far too delicate.”
I can’t bear to look at either of the Archmagi. If I were not the Grandmage’s daughter, my crimes would be long judged by now. I would already be expelled from the Arcanium.
Branvir doesn’t protest again, and so we continue to wait.
My palms are hot and sticky, and my racing mind imagines a thousand different ways this trial could go. Even muffled by the carpet, Archmage Gidston’s footsteps drum in my ears to the rhythm of impending doom.
The walls spin around me. I struggle to keep myself upright. I don’t know how much longer I can bear this excruciating wait.
But then the doors finally swing open, and my father strides in.
Though the room was quiet before his entry, now it falls completely silent—as if no one dares to even twitch in the Grandmage’s presence. His magnificent robes storm around him and gold thread flashes through the indigo fabric like bolts of lightning.
My father comes to a stop before Archmage Gidston. He stands less than an arm’s length away from me, but he doesn’t turn in my direction. Nor does he glance at me from the corners of his eyes.
It’s as if he can’t bear to look upon his disgrace of a daughter.
“Archmage Gidston,” he says, resting the end of his crystalline staff on the carpet, “if you will explain this matter. And swiftly. I must soon return to Tirith’s ambassadors.”
“Yes, Grandmage.” Lorette folds her hands behind her back and straightens. Her eyes drift between Kaely and me. “This afternoon, shortly after the second-years finished their classes for the day, Reyna Ashbourne was seen attacking Kaely Calton with a fireball spell.”
Only now does my father’s head snap toward me. “Is this true?” His temples pulse with barely controlled rage. “Or do you dare to deny Archmage Gidston’s words?”
“Yes, it’s true I struck Kaely with a fireball spell but—”
My father raises his hand before I can explain, wordlessly silencing me.
A lump swells in my throat. I swallow, but it doesn’t shift. I stare at the carpet to avoid looking at the disappointment on his face.
“The perpetrator confesses to her crimes,” my father says, his tone painfully neutral. “For what reason did you call me here, Archmage Gidston? I believe both you and Archmage Calton should be more than capable of addressing this incident.”
“Of course,” Lorette replies, bowing her head. Her platinum hair doesn’t move with the motion, the bun too tightly bound. “However, as it concerns your daughter, I thought it best to settle this matter with you present.”
“While Reyna may be my daughter, she will be treated no differently to any other adept of the Arcanium.”
Branvir huffs his agreement, while Lorette’s shoulders stiffen with tension.
“Since Reyna is found guilty,” Lorette says, “we must agree on the punishment she is to receive for breaking Nolderan’s laws by using her magic with the intention to harm another.” Her voice reveals little of her thoughts. It almost sounds like hesitation, but I’m not sure whether it’s born of reluctance or apprehension.
“Is the punishment for such crimes not expulsion?” Branvir interjects.
Both my father and Lorette turn to face him,their expressions unreadable.
Will my father agree to expel me from the Arcanium? Will he allow me to be the first Ashbourne in generations to fail to graduate as a Mage of Nolderan?
Maybe he will disown me to prevent me from tarnishing our family’s legacy.
My breathing is shaky, and my vision blurs. I may not be the most studious adept, but becoming a mage is my destiny.
I bite back the tears welling in my eyes—thick, heavy, and painfully bitter. I can’t cry here. Not in front of my father, and certainly not in front of Kaely, who would take much delight in seeing how weak I am.
