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And yet—he shifted. Just slightly. A half-step forward, too small to mean anything. Too small to be real. But he’d done it before he could stop himself.

Echo’s scales shimmered in rapid, uneasy pulses. Warning colors. A heartbeat of silent distress. Not for me. For him.

I didn’t give them the chance to speak. I turned and walked away.

43

Elio

I found herin the deepest part of the library, exactly where I knew she’d be. Echo’s scales flickered between deep purple and storm-gray, betraying emotions I usually kept buried.

“Go away, Elio.” Her voice was raw—not just from crying, but from screaming. From breaking. From every goddamn thing they had taken from her today.

“Haven’t you done enough to me?”

She didn’t just mean today. She meant every illusion, every trick, every game.

The bitterness in her tone made me flinch. Echo’s scales darkened to ash-gray, reflecting my shame.

“No games,” I said quietly, taking a careful step forward. “Not after what I saw happen to Keane.”

She whirled on me, dark eyes blazing. “Like you care what happens to any of us. All you do is play with people. Turn them into your personal entertainment.” She shoved me hard, the impact surprising. “The maid’s costume? The illusions making me doubt everything I saw? Was it fun, watching me break?”

I let her hit me again. Let her shove, let her spit her rage at me, let her words cut.

Because I deserved worse.

“I’m sorry.”

The words tasted like salt and blood. I wasn’t used to saying them. I wasn’t used tomeaningthem.

“I was cruel. Deliberately cruel. Because that’s what was expected of me.”

“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t try to charm your way out of this.”

“No charm. No masks.” I held up my hands, letting her see the tremor in them. “Just… please. Let me show you something. In the sanctuary.”

She laughed, bitter and sharp. “More violin confessions? More pretty illusions? I am so sick of you people thinking I’m something you can use!”

“You’re right not to trust me,” I admitted. “I’ve given you every reason not to. But something’s wrong with Keane’s magic—you’ve felt it too. And I… I think I might know why.”

She stared at me, breath unsteady, emotions warring across her face. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“You shouldn’t.”

That made her hesitate. Just a little. Enough for me to step closer, enough for her not to back away.

“But for once in my life, I’m terrified of what’s happening. And you’re the only one who noticed before it was too late.”

Her hands were shaking, just a little. Like she was holding herself together by sheer force of will. Like she was afraid to believe me.

After a long, excruciating silence, she nodded once. “If this is another trick…”

“It’s not. I swear it.”

We headed back to the dorm and then up to my sanctuary. The enchanted dome stretched above us, revealing the vast night sky. My violin case sat untouched in its corner—I hadn’t played since watching Keane’s magic turn wrong. Some pain went too deep for music.

“The magic feels different here,” she murmured, moving cautiously to the window. “Clean, like during trials.”