Chapter Three

The carriage carried them upward along the current-line without sway, magitech humming beneath the floor in a rhythm so steady it faded into the body if one did not listen for it. Elora sat angled toward the window, forearm braced lightly against the frame, watching the city tiers rise in disciplined stone beneath the pale wash of morning. Students moved ahead of them in clusters marked by House colors, cloaks catching the light as they converged toward the school’s carved archways.

Kailee watched her instead of the view.

“You’re too quiet,” she said at last, not accusing, simply certain.

Elora did not look at her. “I’m always quiet in the mornings.”

“No.” Kailee shifted, folding one leg beneath her and leaning forward slightly. “You’re contained in the mornings. This is different.”

Elora’s jaw tightened a fraction before smoothing. Kailee’s eyes flicked to the movement, cataloguing it the way she did everything about Elora when she was worried.

“The forest?” Kailee asked gently.

“Yes.”

“Same river. Same path.”

Elora’s fingers curled once around the strap of her satchel and then stilled. “The river went silent.”

Kailee straightened fully at that.

“It’s never done that.”

“No.” Elora’s voice remained level. “And he was there. Running beside me. Then he wasn’t.”

Kailee didn’t rush to fill the space. She rarely did when it mattered.

“Did you wake,” she asked carefully, “or did something change before that?”

Elora watched a patrol unit cross the tier below them, boots striking stone in perfect cadence. “Something changed.”

She left it there. The whisper remained locked behind her ribs, untouched.

Kailee’s expression shifted, warmth sharpening into something protective. “You’ve had that dream for two years,” she said. “It doesn’t get to rewrite itself without explanation.”

“It doesn’t owe me one.”

Kailee huffed softly. “It absolutely does.”

Elora’s mouth curved despite herself.

Outside, the school courtyard widened into view, carriages aligning themselves along the designated docking sigils without command or correction. The forest was no longer visible from this height. Stone replaced it entirely.

“You’ve been thinking about after graduation again,” Kailee said, as if the thread between dream and future were obvious.

Elora exhaled slowly. “It’s close.”

“Two weeks,” Kailee replied, and the words carried weight.

Two weeks until final evaluations. Two weeks until placement recommendations. Two weeks until the question everyone kept circling would no longer remain abstract.

“The Academy,” Kailee said quietly.

Elora’s shoulders shifted almost imperceptibly.

“It’s an option,” she said.

“It’s more than that and you know it.”

Elora’s gaze stayed forward. “It would mean leaving.”

Kailee’s tone gentled. “Yes.”

“My mother,” Elora said, not elaborating. She didn’t need to.

“And Micah.”

Elora nodded once.

“He’s fourteen.”

“He’s strong,” Kailee replied.

“He shouldn’t have to be.”

The carriage settled into docking resonance, the hum beneath them lowering as the current released it. Students began disembarking around them.

Kailee leaned forward, forearms braced against her knees, studying Elora openly now. “You staying won’t change your father,” she said. There was no heat in it. Only truth. “It will only keep you inside his reach longer.”

Elora swallowed, throat tightening against something she refused to let surface. “I can handle him.”

“I know you can,” Kailee answered immediately. “That’s the problem.”

Elora turned her head then, meeting her friend’s gaze.

“You deserve to live without bracing,” Kailee continued, voice steady. “You deserve to run because you want to, not because you’re preparing to catch someone else when they fall.”

The words landed deeper than the earlier ones had.

Elora looked away first.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, which was what she always said.

Kailee’s expression softened, accepting the boundary even as she clearly disliked it. “You always do.”

They stepped down from the carriage into the courtyard, the air carrying the mingled scents of stone dust and oiled steel. Students moved toward the entry arches in steady lines. Elora adjusted her cloak at the shoulder, and the motion drew a faint pull along the thin scar that traced from beneath her hairline down behind her ear. She ignored it.

Kailee noticed.

She didn’t comment.

Inside, the corridor opened into high stone vaulting lined with rune-sealed lockers carved directly into the walls. Morning light filtered in through narrow windows set high above, catching in polished metal fittings and bronze clasps.

“Elora. Kailee.”

Zayden Storm stood near their assigned row, leaning back against the stone as if he had been waiting long enough to pretend he hadn’t. The moment Kailee spotted him, something in her posture brightened unmistakably.

“There you are,” Zayden said as they approached, grin spreading easily across his face.

“You survived without me,” Kailee replied solemnly, stepping directly into his space.

“Barely,” he answered.

His hand found her waist without hesitation; hers settled against his chest as if it had always belonged there. They moved together in easy rhythm, light feeding light, laughter already forming before either of them spoke again.

Elora watched them with something quiet in her chest that felt dangerously close to longing and very quickly reshaped itself into fondness. Their bond was effortless in a way that made her both ache and smile.

Zayden’s gaze shifted to her, lingering just long enough to read more than she offered. “You all right, Lor?”

“Tired,” she said evenly.

He studied her another heartbeat before nodding, accepting the limit she placed.

“Good morning.”

Gregory Forstfang approached without hurry, crimson red cloak falling in a precise line along his shoulders. The corridor adjusted subtly around him, students giving way without conscious decision.

“Elora,” he said, and her name sounded deliberate.

“Your Highness,” she replied respectfully, dipping her head a fraction.

His gaze lingered on her face longer than courtesy required. “You appear fatigued.”

“I didn’t sleep well.”

“That’s becoming a pattern.”

The observation was calm. Controlled. His eyes did not leave her.

Zayden shifted beside Kailee, posture straightening subtly, though his expression remained easy. “We’ve all been sleeping poorly,” he said lightly. “Graduation looming and all.”

Gregory’s attention flicked toward him briefly before returning to Elora.

“Distraction before evaluations is unwise,” Gregory said.

“I’m not distracted,” Elora answered.

A faint smile touched his mouth. “You’ve always been disciplined.”

The praise felt measured, as if placed with intention.

Kailee tightened her hold on Zayden’s hand, bright enough to cut through the tension. “If anyone’s distracted, it’s him,” she declared, jerking her chin toward Zayden. “He’s been practicing speeches on reflective surfaces.”

Zayden laughed. “You wound me.”

Gregory did not laugh.

“You’ve given thought to The Academy,” he said quietly to Elora, as though the others were incidental.

“I have.”

“And?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“You should.” His gaze sharpened, just slightly. “Your talent deserves cultivation.”

Elora held his eyes without softening. “I will decide what deserves it.”

For a heartbeat, something unreadable passed behind his composure before smoothing into civility again.

“Of course,” he said.

The bell rang overhead, echoing along the corridor stone.

Students began moving toward their respective classes, conversation breaking apart into smaller threads. Kailee tugged Zayden toward their locker alcove, laughter spilling easily between them as if tension had never existed.

Elora stepped toward her own locker.

Gregory remained close, close enough that she felt the steady presence of his attention even without turning.

She did not flinch from it.

She had known him her entire life. He was the Crown Prince. He was her friend.

And yet, as she reached for the rune-sealed panel and felt it warm beneath her touch, she was acutely aware that his focus did not rest on anyone else in that corridor the way it rested on her.

Zayden saw it.

She knew he did.

He said nothing.

The locker opened with a muted glow. Elora lifted her books, closed the panel, and stepped into the flow of students.

Behind her, Kailee’s laughter rang bright and unguarded. Zayden answered her in kind.

Gregory walked beside Elora in quiet step.

And for reasons she did not name, she was more aware of him than she wanted to be.