Chapter 25-Watching and Waiting

Odett’s POV

  I woke before sunrise, when the protection marks were still visible on the walls. Footsteps passed outside my room, and the castle settled around me. I listened until Lorilie stretched in my mind, entirely untroubled.

  ‘You are counting sounds again. The third set of footsteps belongs to someone carrying breakfast trays, in case you were wondering,’ Lorilie observed.

  I checked the floor without leaving the bed.

  ‘Grandma told me to name what is here when I wake up,’ I replied.

  ‘That is what I was doing.’

  Lorilie gave a doubtful huff but allowed me to keep my pride.

  I rolled my eyes, but her teasing loosened the knot in my chest. The chair stood where I had left it. The room smelled of clean linen, not ash, and no crimson eyes watched from the shadows.

  Mom was already in the breakfast room, having persuaded Dad to put aside his report long enough to eat. Aunt Jess stole fruit from Uncle Orian’s bowl while ignoring her own. He moved it away and she leaned after it, grinning.

  “Yours taste better, and sharing is important in a healthy mateship,” Aunt Jess explained.

  Orian guarded the bowl with his forearm. Jess leaned closer, and he gave up one strawberry with an exaggerated sigh. She kissed his cheek before taking it.

  Their argument filled the room with a familiar noise. My chest eased before I realized I had been holding my breath. Mom saw me come in, but she did not look me over for signs of a bad night.

  “Good morning, baby girl.”

  “Sit down before Jess starts stealing your breakfast too,” she greeted with carefully hidden concern.

  “I would never steal from a growing child,” Aunt Jess protested with wounded dignity before taking bacon from my plate.

  Dad rescued the last piece and placed it beside my eggs. I accused them all of being terrible examples of leadership.

  No one mentioned the nightmare until I had eaten. Mom held her coffee cup in both hands and tried to sound casual. I could see how much effort it took her, so I let her have the pretense.

  Around us, Zander resumed his argument about the best place to train, and Dad made him pass the butter before answering. No one stopped to listen when Mom leaned toward me. I was grateful she had kept the question between us.

  “How did you sleep?” she asked.

  “You do not have to give me a report.”

  “I only want the truth.”

  Her fingers tightened on the cup, then relaxed. I tore a piece of bread, glad she had asked instead of assuming.

  I glanced at Mom, then at the others still talking around us. No one had lowered a voice or turned to watch. I could answer her without making the whole table worry.

  “I woke up early, but there was no nightmare,” I answered.

  “I named everything in the room before I got out of bed, and Lorilie insulted the floor.”

  Mom’s shoulders loosened even though she tried not to show it.

  Lorilie declared through the family mindlink that the floor remained suspicious. Aunt Jess laughed loud enough to draw a passing servant’s attention, and Mom failed to hide her smile. The concern did not disappear, but it stopped tightening around my throat.

  “Since the floor survived Lorilie’s inspection, you still have combat training after the Academy,” Aunt Jess announced with brisk satisfaction while pointing her fork at me.

  “Normal session, normal rules, and no one stares at you like you might crack.”

  “If your magic becomes unstable, you tell me before it throws either of us into a wall.”

  I looked toward the cracked practice shield Uncle Orian had still not replaced and lowered my voice.

  “That only happened once,” I reminded her with embarrassed irritation.

  “The second wall was Joshy’s fault.”

  Aunt Jess’s grin told me she had been waiting for him to hear it.

  “I heard that,” Joshy called with offended amusement as he entered carrying his Academy coat and accepted a biscuit from Mom.

  “The wall was already weak, and you were the one who sent me through it.”

  Uncle Orian looked between us as if he had just been handed the morning’s entertainment.

  “You told me to hit harder,” I argued while gathering my books.

  Uncle Orian predicted the explanation would look beautiful on Joshy’s grave, and Aunt Jess laughed against his shoulder. For the first time since Black Claw appeared in my nightmare, leaving for the Academy did not feel like escaping a room full of worried adults.

  The walk to the Academy felt ordinary until we reached the lower training courtyard. Fifth-year students had gathered around the assignment board, arguing loudly enough that I knew the exercise had changed. Nolan found us with a folded blue notice in his hand.

  “The shelter exercise continues today, but the instructor reassigned every command position,” Nolan explained with frustration after handing me the notice and nodding toward the supply hall.

  “We are receiving simulated residents this time, and half the requested supplies are unavailable.”

  Students behind him continued arguing over the new assignments.

  “That sounds less like an exercise and more like the Academy admitting it lost its own inventory,” I said, unconvinced while Joshy read over my shoulder and Cassian approached with four blank intake sheets.

  “Who is leading our team?”

  Cassian’s expression answered before his mouth did.

  “I am,” Cassian answered with visible dread while holding the papers as though they might catch fire in his hands.

  “You are handling shelter assignments, Nolan has supplies, and Joshy is responsible for medical intake.”

  His grip tightened when he noticed me studying the papers.

  Cassian knew the procedures better than any of us, but command made him nervous. In our last exercise, an imaginary village had nearly frozen while he chose a route. He looked at the intake sheets as though they might offer a way out.

  My hand moved toward the intake sheets. I caught myself before Cassian noticed and folded my arms instead.

  “We can review the first card before anyone arrives,” I offered.

  “You give the assignments, and we will tell you what each station needs.”

  Joshy’s raised eyebrow suggested he had noticed how close my hand came to the papers.

  “That is a polite way of offering to lead without using the word,” Cassian said with nervous suspicion as he tightened his grip on the papers.

  “The instructor warned me not to let you do that.”

  Nolan suddenly found the assignment board very interesting.

  “She probably used more insulting language,” I replied with rueful acceptance after nudging Joshy when he made a sound suspiciously close to a laugh.

  “Fine.”

  “You lead and tell us where to start.”

  Cassian blinked at me before looking down at his assignments.

  Cassian sent Nolan to count the supplies and assigned me to inspect the sleeping areas. Numbered cots filled three adjoining rooms. Each resident card described different needs.

  The first group included injured adults, an elderly wolf, a vampire child sensitive to daylight, and a witch who struggled in crowds. I placed the adults near medical care and gave the witch a cot by the quiet exit. The shuttered room looked safest for the child.

  “You placed the child alone, but the card says he arrived with the elderly wolf,” Joshy said, pointing to it.

  “The room protects him from the windows,” I explained with defensive certainty while pointing toward the blanket partitions beside the wall.

  “There is not another space dark enough unless we cover half the main room.”

  I looked at the two cards together. The child had arrived with the elderly wolf, a detail I had missed while searching for the darkest room.