Page 4

“Exactly. Anyone who enters risks weakening their quell. We’re lucky we’re only skimming the edge.

” She adjusted the strap of her blade. “It goes back to the first six who survived the academy trials. Some say the Forgotten cursed the seasons after that. Winter brings starvation. Spring brings death. Every realm has a cost. I could keep going, but Verdonia’s history bores me. ”

“My friend once led me to a hot spring back at the Academy. I lost my power for a night.”

She laughed. “That wasn’t a friend. That was a rival trying to weaken you. You trust too easily.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me.”

She scoffed. “Were you two against the same title? ”

“Yes, but—”

“Then they were trying to weaken you.”

I didn’t answer. I wondered if Damien had known the dangers of Spring. I didn’t let the thought linger. It hurt too much to mourn him. Even just the version of him I thought I knew.

“You seem to know everything about Verdonia?” I asked.

She sighed. “I was raised in nearly every land. I never belonged here.” She shrugged, her silver gaze flicking to the horizon. “But I never overstayed my welcome in regions. I made a few guards swoon me, even a few Serpents. It’s not an easy life, Severyn, but it is fun.”

I wondered if she was truly content with her life or if, like me, she was merely playing a role handed to her by the land’s politics.

“I remember you from Ravensla,” I said. “You tried to capture me because of my neval mark. It’s meaningless anyway.”

“Oh, I’m aware, but any idiot who pays gold to capture someone with a blonde streak in their hair, I’ll take them up on their offer.”

The scorpion veered sharply, and I nearly lost my hold on the beast. “Have you captured a lot of us?” I asked, voice tight. Maybe I had distant family out there. I never had time to trace Veravine’s lineage.

“Every name I bring in is worth fifty coins,” Sabitha said coolly. “But I don’t think you have any gold. Your father’s land is dying. And your Serpent doesn’t care that you’re here.”

“That’s not true,” I snapped. “Archer cares.”

She let out a quiet, bitter laugh. “You mean your scandalous little rendezvous with Archer Lynch in Ravensla? I’m honestly shocked the rest of the Continent didn’t find out sooner.”

The words hit like ice water. “People knew? ”

“A first-year Serpent student sharing an inn with a crowned ruler?” She raised a brow. “That kind of story spreads faster than fire.”

My heart thudded. “They printed it?”

“Front page. If I recall correctly, it read something like Serpent Leader Hides with Potential Heir in Plain Shadows. ”

“They didn’t name me.”

“You were a no-name back then. You still are. Heirs are replaceable.”

I sat in stunned silence, the dark landscape stretching endlessly ahead. Had I been watched since the day I stepped foot on Academy grounds?

“I never saw any journalists,” I said, mostly to myself.

Sabitha gave a low chuckle. “Journalists are everywhere, Severyn. They don’t just chase bloodlines.

They chase stories. The quills, the parchment, the ink, they’re all tools for spying.

Valscribe is competitive for the next big story and is as fierce as the competition for a future heir at the Serpent Academy. ”

“My brother attends Valscribe,” I said, more out of habit than necessity. “He’s an amazing writer.”

Sabitha’s eyes flicked to me, a flash of something unreadable crossing her face before she spoke. “I’ve yet to hear about an heir being titled. That would be the grandest literature your brother would ever write. Though, I hate my family, do what you will with that information.”

A lump formed in my throat at the mention of Cully. “I don’t know where he is,” I admitted quietly. “Last I heard, he was at the prisons. And if you’re so keen on gold, why not tell the Continent exactly who the next heir is?”

She shrugged. “To answer your question, I don’t give a damn about titles. I’d much rather watch the journalists tear each other apart for it. ”

She faux sighed. “And… oh dear. He must have written something dangerously close to treason to end up there. That’s the lowest level for a Valscribe journalist.”

A pang of guilt struck deep. My brother had been swallowed by the system—just like me. Caught in the same current of politics, betrayal, and blood. We were both pawns. Just on different boards.

I missed him. He was all I had left besides Knox. And I still hadn’t forgiven him for going to the king about my forbidden power.

Sabitha gestured widely with her hands. “Welcome to your new home for the week,” she said as we entered a landed shaded with ash and overcast.

“A week?”

She shrugged. “I’m only guessing you’ll die.”

I scoffed. “Thanks for the encouragement.”

The sun dipped low, shadows stretching long across the brittle earth as we neared the gates of the Malvoria Institute.

The warded shield scraped against my skin like it knew I didn’t belong.

The black gates creaked open with a slow, groaning moan.

Malvoria loomed ahead, almost a castle—crowned with the sharp, geometric M of its flag, flapping stiffly in the wind.

I slid from Nevia’s back, boots crunching on frozen gravel.

Sabitha chuckled from her saddle. “Good luck, Severyn. You were… not the worst criminal I’ve escorted.” She hesitated for a moment. “Word of advice? Don’t reveal too much. And stop being so damn depressing. I see worth in you, and not just because your brother paid me.”

“So you do think I’ll last longer than a week?”

“Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Where are you really going now? ”

The wind whipped her silver hair into a frenzy. “I told you,” she said. “I’m spending time with the Serpent of Night. As you mentioned—being beneath him might be fun. And I’m long overdue.”

Flame crawled up my throat. “Archer wouldn’t dare let you in.”

She leaned over the reins, eyes glinting like polished silver. “You and Archer might share a rider bond, but he chooses when and if you hear him. He, however, always hears you.”

“That’s not how rider bonds work.”

“No,” she said, tugging the reins. “But what’s between you two isn’t a rider bond.”

She paused at the crest of the trail. “I’ll be waiting for your titling announcement. I do love a good Serpent Press scandal.” Nevia lunged forward at her signal, the scorpion vanishing into the dusk.

Archer once told me there were three types of bonds. I only understood one, rider bonds. And even that, I barely knew how they worked. So what bond was she talking about?

I considered running, but one look at the near-barren wasteland told me I wouldn’t survive a single night without weapons. So I approached the estate, lifted my fist to knock, but the iron door groaned open before I had even touched it.

Shit. I suppose I should’ve added slightly haunted to the list of reasons to fear Malvoria.

I stepped inside and was swallowed by a vast, echoing chamber. The ceiling arched high above, vaults of black stone threaded with iron beams that belonged in a fortress, not an institute for guards. Sparse torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows across the cracked slate floor.

Training weapons lined the walls, shields, swords, staffs—each mounted with cold precision. A central arena sunk into the middle of the room like a pit for beasts. The scent of blood and sweat clung to the air. Every inch of this place screamed discipline.

“Hello?” My voice echoed. “Is anyone there?”

Another door groaned open, and a tall, gray-haired man stepped into view. He was broad-shouldered and rugged, with a silver scar running down the left side of his face. He gave me a tight nod before asking, “Name and reason?”

There was something familiar about him. Something that made my skin crawl. “My name is Severyn Blanche,” I said cautiously. “What do you mean by reason?”

He didn’t blink. Just studied me like he already knew how much of me would have to break to survive this place.

“Reason for being here,” he said. “No one ends up in Malvoria by accident.”

I swallowed hard. “I was expelled.”

He grunted. “We all have our reasons for coming to Malvoria.” Then he stepped aside and motioned me forward.

I hesitated. “I don’t know why I’m here,” I whispered. “Because I am a—”

And then Archer slammed into the bond. “Don’t tell him you won Serpent,” his voice cut in, sharp and urgent. “Keep it hidden. For now.

The guard’s gaze never wavered. “What school were you at before? Valscribe? Serpent? Nordiamsire for trades? Horticulture of Planters?” He pulled a quill and slip of parchment from his coat, scribbling my name down with practiced ease before glancing up.

“Blanche? Are you related to Charles Blanche?”

“I was at the Serpent Academy,” I said carefully. “And yes. Charles is my eldest brother.”

His jaw tensed, and the quill bent slightly beneath his grip. “My daughter’s leading the charge for the Night title. Her name is Delair. Perhaps you’ve met her.”

Delair .

A breath hitched in my throat, lungs locking tight. He didn’t know. Gods—he had no idea that she was dead. That I had killed her during the Skyfall race.

“I don’t think I ever met her,” I lied, forcing the words out steady as I avoided the silver scar slashing down his cheek. “I was a Summer student. Saani expelled me. Said I wasn’t performing well.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I haven’t heard from Delair in months. We hardly get missions from the academy anymore.”

My stomach twisted. I thought I might throw up, right there on the cold stone floor.

He waved a hand. “Nonetheless, Malvoria welcomes you. It can be overwhelming, I know, but we’re a family here. Brothers. Sisters.”

Family . The word rang hollow in my ears. I should have said something. I should have told him the truth, but I couldn’t. I just… couldn’t.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said.

“I’m one of the lead guards. My name is Klevor Sorpine, but some call me the Warden.” He smiled faintly, like my guilt and panic were written all over my face.

“Warden, got it.”