Page 49 of Academy of the Wicked: Year Three

Zeke's head bobs in understanding.

"Due to the implications, yes. But your heart?"

My heart.

Do I even have one anymore? Or do I share that too with my sister, taking turns with ventricles and valves like children sharing toys?

But no—I feel it beating. Singular. Mine. Accelerating as I stare at this Fae who should represent everything I've been conditioned to hate.

"My heart wants to save her." The words emerge slowly, each one tested before release. "Not out of pity, but maybe... understanding?"

I pause, searching for words to capture something I don't fully comprehend myself.

"It's not like her potential isn't great. It's endless. Maybe it's just..."

I trail off, unable to complete the thought. But Zeke nods as if I've said everything necessary.

"When you're a bird trapped in a cage for so long, it's only a matter of time before one thinks they will never be free again, isn't it?"

The metaphor hits with unexpected force.Yes. That's exactly what this is.Two caged birds recognizing each other's captivity, seeing freedom in the other that neither can achieve alone.

I nod slowly, but reality intrudes with all its impossible complexity.

"I can't love her though." The words taste like ash. "Me and my sister are one. Just like she and Nikolai are one."

Zeke agrees with a motion that suggests this obstacle is significant but not insurmountable.

"But what if there's a way for you to be your own?"

I stare at him, hope and suspicion warring in my chest.

The feline's expression remains neutral, giving nothing away.

"Do you know how?"

He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, the gesture somehow making him look more cat than human despite his current form.

"You're asking the wrong question."

I think for a moment, parsing his meaning. Understanding arrives like dawn—gradual then sudden.

"You already know how." The revelation feels like swallowing lightning. "What you want me to say is whether I wish to pursue it."

His smile returns, eyes still closed as if the conversation bores him despite his obvious investment.

"Your sister would if it made you happy."

The truth of it resonates through our shared existence. Even now, unconscious and child-formed, Gwenivere wonders about this. I can feel her thoughts like whispers against my consciousness—wanting my happiness even if it means separation, wanting my freedom even if it means loneliness.

We've been together so long that independence feels like another kind of death.

But perhaps some deaths are doorways.

"But Nikki and Nikolai are genuinely one person," I point out, needing to understand all angles. "They're not twins."

Zeke doesn't answer immediately, which itself is answer enough.

"I'm wrong?"