Page 22 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)

This week is giving me a headache. As Rhodes would say, it’s been ‘a thorn in my side.’ And once again, Laney and I stayed up way too late, lost in our library books.

Today marks the first day of Aunt Cora’s class for our group.

She’s earned a beloved reputation here at Mageia as the professor of Herbology.

It’s a class all cadets take, with lessons growing more advanced as we progress through the war college.

For our first year, I imagine Cora’s lessons will be similar to what she taught me when I was under her care.

The conservatory where Herbology is held was a short walk from the castle but not long enough for me to gather my thoughts on how my espresso station shift with Rhodes went this morning.

After my embarrassing shower incident last night, I had no idea what to expect from him.

During the walk to the cafeteria, I played out every possible scenario of how Rhodes might torment me over yesterday’s events.

Would he tease me about finally walking into the correct station, even though I failed to find the right bathing chamber?

Would he have heard about my major screw-ups during Intro to Air and Earth and be ready to scold me for not being a strong representation of our team?

Would he make another joke about Shayde?

Though, why would he even have the right?

Between the two Wylders, Shayde has been the consistently kind one.

He’s introduced me to his friends, invited me to their party in the Sanctuary, and didn’t make fun of me for not knowing how to operate the shower—even though he had all the opportunity to.

Shayde also saved my ass from being tardy yesterday morning with that extra set of clothes.

Rhodes has been the complicated one to read.

Every time I think I have him figured out, I’m wrong.

Especially with his reaction when he realized I was wearing Shayde’s clothes and then was an entirely different person in the bathing chamber.

So, I didn’t know what to expect as I made my way to the espresso station this morning.

But every scenario I mapped out in my head was incorrect.

Rhodes was there early, already fulfilling orders. He greeted me with a nod, and that was it. No snarky comment. No teasing. The entire shift went as if we were two acquaintances working seamlessly together.

The anticipation of when Rhodes would finally speak, letting me know what page we were on, burned a hole through my chest. Slowly bubbling but intensifying with every minute of his ‘let’s act like nothing happened’ facade.

I don’t have the patience to guess where I stand with someone; I’d rather talk it out and resolve the matter right then.

But is my presence even worth his energy? Why would I think that Rhodes even thinks twice about me? I am probably nothing to him. Just a cadet that he has to train to work the station.

Whether it’s in a good or a bad way, I don’t matter to him.

As the shift was coming to an end, Rhodes gave me another nod and turned to exit through the swinging door. That’s when the frustration boiled over.

“Rhodes!” I finally snapped.

He stopped midway through the door just as the swinging door slapped his shoulder on the way back. It took every ounce of self-control not to burst out laughing. He turned toward me, his brows knitting together in mild confusion.

“Yes?” he said in a low, even voice.

I had no ready reply, just a dramatic, exasperated hand gesture.

“And what does that mean?” he prompted, his voice laced with curiosity.

I let out a muffled groan. “You know what.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not fluent in—” he mimicked my wild hand gesture exaggeratedly.

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside me.

Rhodes sighed, stepping closer until he towered over me, just like he had in the pantry when we were searching for a mug.

I tilted my chin up to meet his gaze, but as always, his expression was unreadable.

The scent of cashmere sandalwood and vanilla wrapped around me like a comforting embrace, and I found myself caught in the unsettled storm of his eyes.

My heart began beating rapidly, and my chest tightened.

His gaze softened as he asked, “What is it?”

“I never know if you just tolerate or actually enjoy my presence,” I whispered, the truth slipping out before I could stop it.

He slowly closed the distance between us, “Who hurt you in the past to ever make you question yourself like that?” An emotion flickered across his face, too quick to identify, before the muscle in his jaw tightened.

He raised his hands as if to cup my face but stopped short.

Instead, he shoved them into the pockets of his breeches.

“You’re seeing my brother, Thorne. I try not to show too much enjoyment in your presence out of respect,” Rhodes admitted, his voice low.

My jaw dropped. “I’m not seeing your brother.”

“Shayde is clearly into you, and you were wearing his clothes yesterday—”

“That wasn’t an intimate thing!” I briefly explained the incidents that led to me wearing Shayde’s clothes .

“I’m sorry. I assumed,” Rhodes said, his tone so soft it made my heart skip a beat. “I try to stay out of my brother’s way.”

Confused, I asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Rhodes shook his head slowly. “I’ve got to go.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. He turned and left the station, leaving me more confused than ever. My thoughts were interrupted as we arrived at the conservatory.

If I thought the library was beautiful, the conservatory at Mageia War College is a masterpiece.

Built with enchanted glass and black metal fixtures, it shines like its own magical realm tucked within the college’s grounds.

As we entered, I looked up at the domed glass roof that soars high into the sky, casting an even more magical glow with the sunlight that floods the space.

Vines and flowering plants drape across the ceiling, cling to the walls, and tower over us from branch to branch. Some have the same lanterns from the library dangling from them.

Our group ventured into the space, roaming around the different biomes the conservatory is home to.

Thanks to the enchanted glass, each ecosystem is given the appropriate living conditions to help the foliage thrive year-round.

Laney and I walked through the humid tropical zone filled with towering trees and lush bottom plants.

The second we stepped into the desert, the humidity ceased, and the unforgiving heat slapped us in the face.

We skedaddled out of there, but not without admiring the cute cacti and succulents, and right into the freezing tundra that didn’t have much for us to see.

Laney and I giggled in awe of the magic around us, our breath creating clouds of mist in front of us.

She grasped my hand and dragged me into the rainforest.

The conservatory has benches and study nooks along the pathways where cadets can observe the plants up close or practice their lessons.

As we explored the diverse ecosystems, we arrived at the heart of the conservatory—the classroom space.

Benches bordered the square area, and a magnificent weeping willow stood at its center, about half the size of the one in the library.

The wooden benches seemed to flow naturally from the willow’s trunk as if the tree itself had shaped them.

Shelves were carved into the wide trunk, holding a variety of majestic bottles in all different shapes, colors, and sizes.

The air inside is thick with the scent of flowers, earth, and magic. As we walked to find our seats, I let my fingers breeze against the colorful flowers. I let my mind roam into the possibilities of Herbology mixed with our elements.

Cora must be thriving here.

My thoughts must have summoned her because, out of nowhere, a sudden burst of white smoke and twinkling embers erupted from the ground, and there stood Cora at the center of it all.

I had no idea she could do that.

The stunning display silenced the entire class of cadets while I found myself wondering just how much Cora had evolved since coming here. I always knew she was exceptionally gifted at crafting special salves and potions, but I’d only ever seen her use her tangible element.

“And that,” Cora announced with a dramatic bow and a twirl of her hands. “Is something you’ll all be able to do if you excel in this class.” She straightened up, clapping her hands with that warm, welcoming smile I knew so well.

Hearing Aunt Cora go by ‘Professor Reyes’ was something I would have to get used to.

But despite the formality, our first Herbology class with her was nothing short of delightful.

From the moment she appeared in a burst of white smoke, her vibrant energy filled the room, and it soon spread to all of us.

Her laughter bubbled up as easily as the potions she brewed, putting everyone at ease, even the most nervous cadets, who couldn’t help but smile in her presence .

Dressed in flowing robes adorned with embroidered vines and flowers that seemed to sway with her every move, Cora embodied the nature she taught. Her hair was pinned up with a sprig of lavender. A few loose tendrils framed her face, giving her an effortlessly whimsical appearance.

For her first class, she didn’t waste time on a lecture.

Instead, she plunged us right into hands-on learning.

Gathering the students in a circle around the weeping willow at the conservatory’s center, she had a mischievous twinkle in her features as she instructed us to close our eyes and focus on the natural energy around us.