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“Your first year here at the academy shall be divided evenly among the three aspects of tarot magic: inking, wielding, and reading.

Each corresponds with a different test during the Three of Swords Trials in the winter.

For four hours each morning, you will have guided instruction on one of these topics.

“Following lunch, you will have an opportunity for independent study to practice what you have learned in advance of your winter tests.

The professors teaching you each of these subjects will make ourselves available in our respective offices, attached to our classrooms, should you require additional instruction during this time.

Our assistant professors will also be available.

“Are there any questions?” she finishes, leaning against the table and folding her arms. No one says anything.

“Excellent. Then the only other matter of housekeeping is to inform you that the desks you select in each classroom will remain your own for the first year.

You may place your name in the slot at their front and lock them using the key in the top drawer.

Do not forget to take the key. Just do not leave anything you might need for wielding tomorrow or reading the day after, as those will be in different classrooms.

“Now, let’s begin with the basics.” Details out of the way, she launches into her lecture.

I’d been expecting to have a slight advantage when it came to my inking and wielding.

Hopeful I might learn something, but not holding my breath for it.

Inking is second nature to me—even if it’s been technically illegal for me to engage in.

But this instruction might as well be in an entirely different language.

Attempting to take notes only brews frustration.

Everything is so fastidious. Meticulous.

There’s no soul to the way she teaches. Card designs are treated like a formula.

One blindfolded person, two swords, out at sea—all the requirements to make a Two of Swords are listed down to the tiny details.

And then there’s these intricate borders unique to each suit used to “contain the power” of the card that Raethana drones on and on about.

“Every line upon your card must serve a purpose. They are the channels by which the magic both is contained and flows,” Raethana instructs, passing through the room as we work.

She pauses at my desk. I don’t bother looking up until her pointer lightly taps on my knuckles.

“Clean up your lines, Miss Redwin, lest your wielding be as chaotic as those messy sketches. Look here…”

She goes over to one of the posters that line the walls, her pointer showing the precise swirls.

The frames don’t matter. The words are heavy on my tongue, but I keep them to myself. My head is clearer today, and I’m not going to let emotions get the better of me. I didn’t realize just how hard my skull had been pounding until I managed to get two meals and three carafes of water in me.

“Now we will—” Raethana pauses mid-instruction. Everyone turns to see what has caught her attention. “Headmaster.” Raethana bows her head.

But Kaelis’s eyes are on me, turning my stomach into a lead ball. His attention flicks to the professor, and his expression shifts to a pleasant mask.

“Forgive me for the interruption, Head Professor.” He dips his chin slightly, the most deference anyone could expect from the prince. “Irequire Lady Clara Redwin.”

All eyes pivot to me. A cheeky smile overtakes my expression as I try to exude the impression that I knew this was coming all along. I grab my satchel, lock my desk drawer, and rise to make my way to him.

“Lady Redwin,” Raethana interrupts pleasantly enough. I pause briefly. “Since you will be missing the last hour of class, I would ask that you make it up this afternoon.”

“She will be with me for the rest of the day,” Kaelis interjects. I barely refrain from gagging.

Raethana’s smile widens slightly, and the annoyance that lights her eyes intensifies. “How lucky that a student gets so much time with the headmaster himself.”

“My apologies, we have much to go over before the wedding.” Kaelis holds out his arm, and it slips around my waist protectively.

Don’t. Grimace, I tell myself, making sure my smile doesn’t twist my face.

Students exchange glances that are so transparent I can almost read their thoughts.

If the rumors about me and Kaelis were bad before, they’ll be unbearable now.

It’s for the best, I tell myself. Let the rumors run rampant, convince everyone, and then let them tire of it so I no longer have to actively keep up this charade.

“Lady Redwin, please seek me out at your earliest convenience so we may schedule time for your instruction.”

“Of course, Head Professor.” I nod, and Kaelis escorts me out. I wait until we’re far enough away that there’s no risk of anyone hearing before I say, “What do you want with me now?” I’m expecting it to be some frivolous reason based on a princely whim. But I’m very, very wrong.

“The first Prince of Oricalis has decided—yet again—to show up unannounced. And this time he’s asking for you. ”