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We’re led to a spacious lounge. There are bookshelves and gaming tables.

Sitting areas cluster before four hearths to the right and left.

In every corner is a stairway, the arch above bearing the circular signet of one of the four houses, identical to what the students wear around their necks.

Directly across from the entry, in the center of the wall rather than a corner, is a fifth stairwell that’s unmarked.

“This is the common area for all the houses. Each house has their own dormitory, as is marked.” Thornbrow motions with an open palm at each of the four archways.

The professor’s movements are rigid and precise enough that I wonder if he was perhaps once a Stellis, or at least a city enforcer.

The closely cropped hair on the sides with the tidy length on top gives me a similar impression.

“You are not permitted into a house’s dormitory without being a member of that house.

Your current dormitories as initiates are opposite us.

There are two to a room while you are initiates, as is marked.

You’ll find your things have already been brought up. ”

Things… I don’t have those. But I do wonder who’s carrying the luggage.

It’d make sense for Arcana Academy to have attendants and other staff, and there were a few bustling around the hall.

Grimly, I wonder if the staff has chosen to be here or if they were forced. My mind returns to Marked Arcanists.

“There, you will also find supplies for your classes that begin tomorrow. They have been furnished by the grace of the crown, so be sure to show your gratitude to the headmaster when next you see him.

“You will receive further information about the year’s curriculum and what will be expected of you tomorrow at your first class.

Please make your way when the bells toll.

Tardiness will reflect poorly upon you.” Thornbrow is already sounding impatient.

I suspect most of the faculty, and students, see little point in investing too much in us emotionally when they know that roughly a third of us will be gone within the next two seasons.

“Are there any other questions at this time?”

“Sir.” A woman with pale blond hair that’s more silver than gold speaks.

She has honey-brown eyes and white skin, though not overly fair.

As Thornbrow’s attention swings to her, she places both fists at the small of her back, standing taller in salute.

The pin over her left breast shines in the ambient light of the crystal chandeliers above.

A streak of light glints down a lightning bolt striking a crumbling tower.

Clan Tower. The generals of the Oricalis militia, leaders of the Stellis.

“Speak.” Thornbrow shifts slightly; his hands twitch as though he is fighting giving a similar salute back to her. That, combined with his tone…He’s of Clan Strength, or Tower. I’m nearly sure of it.

“What are the rules regarding the rest of the academy, beyond the dormitories? Are there any other areas we are or are not permitted to visit?”

Thornbrow smirks, as if he gets some kind of personal enjoyment or amusement from this question.

“You are all of age, capable of conducting yourselves appropriately. If there is a room in which you are not supposed to be, it will be marked, locked, or barred. Use of cards is also permitted within the halls of the academy, but know that you will be held appropriately responsible for any damage or risks posed to others. Arcanists are valuable to the crown, and we cannot have any injury coming to royal property without proper cause.”

Even Unmarked, we are tools. Just slightly better kept tools. I do, however, take note of how he specifies “proper cause.” It sounds…intentionally vague.

“With that, I recommend you all seek out a good night’s sleep. Your real work will begin tomorrow.” The professor leaves.

I waste no time starting for the dorms. Others follow my lead. A few remain in the common room, no doubt continuing to court early favor with the different houses by waiting for the students to return to their dorms from the main hall.

Up the stairs is another, smaller common area, clearly intended just for initiates.

A long hall stretches back from it with fifteen doors.

Almost every door has two names on it. Which means they can only ever take thirty initiates at a time.

Unless they remake this hall as needed during the dinner.

It wouldn’t be impossible with the right combination of cards…

I find the door with my name on it. It’s underneath another: Alor. I darkly hope that she’s removed from the academy sooner, rather than later; I’m not exactly keen on sharing my space.

But, for now, I’m alone. And I’m going to make the most of it.

Kaelis does not seem to know the meaning of “restraint” when it comes to decor. One room’s worth of finishings could likely support a family in Eclipse City for a year. The dormitories are no exception.

The stone walls are more polished here than in the rest of the academy, and the mortar is paper-thin, giving the entire wall an almost glossy appearance.

The walls have been washed to an ivory color, and quartz has been embedded at the meeting of every four corners of stone.

The tiny crystals catch the ambient light and reflect it throughout the room.

Two grandiose beds are separated by a plush, velvety rug the color of the midnight sky, embroidered with hundreds of golden stars.

The bed frames are crafted from a dark mahogany, with tall headboards decorated with a lattice of gleaming gold-leafed vines.

Linens and silks envelop the mattresses in the same deep jewel tones as the rug beneath them. The duvet is pillow-soft.

Between the two beds, along the back wall and underneath the large window, are two desks of equally luxurious craftsmanship.

The motif of gilded ivy is carried across their surfaces, and around the arches of the two colossal wardrobes at the foot of the beds.

Curiosity has me drifting toward the one with my name emblazoned on the front.

My breath hitches as I swing the doors open.

Inside is a dream of fashion—perfect ensembles for a recently ascended noble.

There are dark silks, light and airy in contrast to the heavy leathers.

There are linens and velvets. Trousers and skirts and dresses.

Every piece of fabric slips through my fingers like coins from my palms. If I were to just sell this wardrobe, I could prep a handful of Arcanists fleeing from the Marking for the desert beyond the mountains…

I snap the doors shut and hang my head. I fight a wicked urge to grab fabric by the fistful and run down to the common room and throw it into the fire.

Rage is worth little if it’s not channeled.

I told Arina that many times, just as Mother said it to me.

I must listen to her advice now more than ever.

I’ve already ignored more than a few of her warnings.

Halazar has tampered with my self-control and my common sense.

Two things I need to recover sooner rather than later.

The clothes can’t help anyone if they’re destroyed. But if I keep them, I might be able to fit in better here until I can sneak them out.

Lie. Survive. Resist.

I sound my resignation with a sigh. I quickly strip down and change into a pair of drawstring silken pants and matching shirt.

Even with my stomach distended from all the food and grumbling at the richness of it following such a long period of hunger, my trousers must be tied tighter than I would like.

I’m pulled toward the other wardrobe. ALOR written in silver winks at me in the low light. With a glance over my shoulder to the main door, I pull open the wardrobe and take a quick peek.

The clothes are all in shades of gray. Embroidered swords dance down sleeves and frame cuffs. There are small lightning bolts in place of buttons. All my suspicions are confirmed when I see the symbol of the Tower.

Of fucking course Kaelis would make sure the person I’m sharing a room with is from the clan that supplies his family their dogs. I shut the doors in disgust and move to the desks.

I assume the desk on the right is mine, same with the bed, as that’s the side my wardrobe is on. The top drawer glides open effortlessly, and I let out a noise that is somewhere between a gasp and a squeal of delight.

An array of arcane implements is inside, from shimmering powders and crystal inkpots to quills fashioned from eagle feathers and pens carved from precious stones. They glint in the lamplight cast from the lanterns hung over the desks, like little suitors winking at me.

“My only loves,” I assure them.

The next drawer has more powders and pens and quills.

I pull out the chair and the slim center drawer at my waist and find the paper I had been looking for—precut to card size.

True luxury. Not the stolen scraps I usually have to fight for and trim to size myself.

Or that I just squeeze and twist the inking on to make it work.

However, what catches my eye is an envelope on the top of the stacks of paper in the drawer, right in the center, so black it seems to absorb the light. I know who it’s from without opening it, and I think, briefly, of ignoring it, or throwing it away. But curiosity gets the better of me.

I open the envelope with the aid of a silver letter opener and slip out the thin paper within. In a tightly spun, elegant script that is certain to belong to Kaelis are the words:

I hope it is all to your liking. Now show me what my bride can do.

I can’t ink an Ace of Wands fast enough to incinerate the note. I’ll show him what I can do. Here, in the privacy of my room…no one will know I can already ink and wield all the Minor Arcana with ease. I will build my own deck. My weapons of choice. I will not be caught off guard and unarmed again.

I don’t trust any of the other initiates for even a breath. These aren’t my people.

My people are beyond these towering walls and windswept cliffs. They’re back in Eclipse City. Arina found a way out of the academy, and once I regain my strength, I’m going to find it, too.