The light had the nerve to poke her eyelids, flickering with every gust that rustled the corpses of leaves outside. Eydis woke up already irritated, offended by how bright the sky insisted on being.

  “Fine, I get it,” she muttered; whether to the sun, her headache or the rustling trees, she wasn’t sure.

  She propped herself up and looked around the dorm. It was empty, save for a single teacup left behind as proof that the previous night’s conversation was real. Beside it sat a glass of water, half full.

  How thoughtful.

  She finished it but the drumming in her skull remained unimpressed. Pulse after pulse it threw the same shuttered images against the backs of her eyes: Astra again, the borrowed silk robe now hanging loose from Eydis’s collarbones, its front parting in a way that could only be labelled downright indecent.

  "Well, this is mortifying." Eydis pulled the robe tighter and glanced around to triple-check if she was alone.

  Astra wouldn’t miss a robe or two, right? She had enough delicate underthings to supply a boutique. Impeccable taste, for someone who could freeze a room with a glance.

  And yes, Eydis was a little envious.

  ‘It's not en—‘

  She silenced Envy's insinuation. Who asked? Now that the fever had retreated, along with what felt like 90% of her dignity, it was time to regain control of her internal monologue.

  Sitting upright, she winced as her palm throbbed again. “Please tell me Astra didn’t see that.”

  Vulnerability wasn’t exactly her thing. Then again, neither was running a fever from a single infected wound and losing most of her powers. Funny how fast things could change.

  And then there was the snuggling, the nuzzling, the shameless warmth-leeching, the—

  A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of her face pressed against Astra’s… neck? Please. Let it have been her neck.

  Some scrap of dignity had to still be lying around here somewhere, right? And if not, she could always fake amnesia again.

  Except the lingering softness against her cheek vetoed that option rather thoroughly. With a groan she collapsed backward onto the mattress and mashed her face into the pillow.

  Big mistake.

  The scent of Astra's shampoo taunted her. How did she know that scent by heart? How was she supposed to look Astra in the eye after this?

  Teenage Eydis's unsolicited kiss had sent the Ice Princess shooting literal ice daggers with her glares. These days the Ice Princess had downgraded to merely exasperated side-eye. Even so, the thought of walking back into that awkwardness made her want to hibernate.

  A kiss was one thing. Sleeping curled into Astra’s neck like it was her new favourite pillo—the library! Yes. Always a solid escape plan, possibly a long-term one.

  Pain laced through her limbs at the thought of moving, but she ignored it, swinging her legs over the bed. “Time for that revitalising sigil.”

  Here’s the plan.

  First, a shower, then get a sick note.

  Second, disappear into the library staff room.

  Third, avoid Astra like she was contagious.

  Optional: invest in industrial-strength perfume to erase any evidence of last night’s… entanglement.

  Still damp-hair and trailing lavender like a walking sachet, Eydis made her way toward the infirmary on a mission: abandon the glasses, summon her best consumptive-waif impression, and convincingly sell the illusion that she was one cough away from the afterlife.

  It would have helped, of course, if her body had cooperated by producing something that resembled an actual fever. But no.

  Still, plan executed, sick note secured. Nurses just as easily flustered, mumbling about the rising requests for flu sick notes.

  Glasses back on, she walked through the main hall, its marble floor patterned in green geometric shapes, toward the library. The usual loud chatter was strangely subdued today. Students moved like sleep walkers, flushed and dazed.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  So it was true. Had a rogue love spirit somehow infested the ventilation system? The nurse’s offhanded comment didn’t help ease her doubts.

  She mulled it over for a moment, then gave a slight shrug and stepped into the library. It was quiet, as expected; but not quite empty.

  Someone was in the Arcane section. Theo. Slightly hunched posture. Silver eyes scanning the page like he might intimidate the glyphs into cooperation.

  “Do Vice Presidents get a free pass to skip class,” she said, folding her arms and leaning nonchalantly against a shelf.

  He glanced up, neutral expression settling in place just a moment too late to hide the way his nose scrunched up.

  (Too much perfume. Noted.)

  “Good morning, Eydis. And I wasn’t skipping. I’m just… reflecting.”

  “Reflecting. Is that your word for brooding?”

  “Not brooding, analysing. My limitations, to be exact,” he replied politely. “And please, call me Theo.”

  “Analysing limitations through a book? Isn’t that a bit contradictory?”

  He raised a brow. “Why would that be contradictory?”

  “Books only show what someone else figured out first. You’re chasing limits… in a box of secondhand ideas. And can you even read those ancient glyphs?”

  “Not all of them. But books… they’re an escape.” His eyes drifted to a diagram on mana core expansion.

  Of course that was the book she’d come for. And judging by the fresh crease in the spine, he’d only just started; which meant he’d be hoarding it for the foreseeable future.

  Now, how to pry it from him without resorting to... well, her usual methods?

  "Didn't realise you were such a bookworm, Theo,” Eydis said. The type who prefers smashing through walls to reading about how walls work, she added silently, recalling his aggressive combat style.

  “Making assumptions, Eydis?”

  “Assumptions are simply shortcuts," Eydis countered with a sly smile. "They streamline the thought process, save time. And besides, isn't it thrilling to have your expectations challenged now and then?"

  "Didn’t expect that from you. Most people take offense."

  “And yet here I am. Defying expectations.”

  He chuckled. “Touché.”

  “Speaking of…” She edged forward just enough to make edge back. “That book you’re guarding? Pretty sure it’s not going to give you what you’re looking for.”

  Theo lowered his voice. “And why’s that?”

  “I’ve seen you fight. You’re not connected to your power.”

  “You stayed. That was already reckless. Or is that another assumption, Eydis?”

  “Not assumption. Observation.” Her voice stayed level. “You tear through every book like it owes you answers, but the moment the page turns toward yourself, you freeze.”

  His eyes fell to the floorboards between them.

  "Whatever it is you’re fighting, I’m not here to guess. But raw power isn’t enough, is it?” She let the thought breathe, then added, “Ever since I found out Natalia was Gifted, I’ve been… reading. Trying to figure out how someone like me can actually help someone like her.”

  (A lie. But a convenient one.)

  “And you know what I realised, Theo? Power isn’t about collecting them all. It’s learning what belongs on the small table and when the smartest move is to push the plate away.”

  Theo lifted his eyes. “But what if the table can grow? What if the plate stretches without cracking? Doesn’t that just mean more choices… more room to get it right?”

  “Maybe that’s what the books want you to believe. But you’re missing the bigger picture. Arcane theory’s kind of like those… what do you call them?” She flexed her fingers. “Horseless carriages?”

  “Horseless carriages?” Theo frowned.

  “You know, those things that move without horses. Or dragons. They run on… batteries,” she said.

  “You mean electric cars?”

  Ignoring his poorly concealed smirk, she said, "Electric cars run on stored energy: batteries, mana. But just having power doesn’t mean you can move forward.”

  "Cars are self-driving, you know?” Theo said, half-smiling.

  Drat. Technology ruined everything.

  Eydis rolled her eyes. “And people still find ways to wrap them around trees.”

  “Yes. People,” he countered.

  “People who trust their lives to something without ever questioning it.”

  Theo pressed his lips tight.

  Eydis allowed a small smile. “Power without direction is still a wreck waiting to happen. One glitch, and you’re splattered across the pavement.”

  Theo grimaced. “I wouldn’t say splattered, exactly,” he said with a laugh. “But yeah. I’d rather keep my hands on the wheel. Those cyber attacks keep happening."

  Eydis nodded. “Power has to be steered. If you don’t, something else makes the choices.”

  “Our Gift is sacred. We’re taught to listen to it, let it speak to us rather than bending it to our will.”

  Her eyebrows gave the smallest, involuntary flick at “sacred.”

  “Why so rigid, Mr. Vice President?” she teased. “Questioning the instructors, even when they’re correct, isn’t that the whole point of being taught how to think?”

  He seemed amused. “I did not imagine you as the rebellious sort.”

  “That’s because you keep assuming." She leaned forward until her fingertips brushed the edge of his open book. “Treat your Gift like cathedral light and you’ll spend your life polishing the worshiping instead of understanding it. You’ll never know its edges. And if you won’t shape it… someone less careful will.”

  She snapped the book close and waited. His gaze flicked from her hand to the shelves, then back again.

  Eydis had met people like him before, heroes who preached righteousness but forgot that kindness can cost lives. Theo had nearly paid tuition for that particular class in the dining hall.

  If she’d truly intended to kill him, she would have. Even in her weakened state.

  Theo sighed and slid the book back onto the shelf. “So it isn’t the magnitude. It’s how you direct it, engage with it. Precision and… audacity.”

  Eydis tilted her head. “Listen to you, getting philosophical. What if I’m just making it up as I go?"

  This time his smile reached his eyes. “Then your Gift is improvisation. And your analogies are surprisingly apt.”

  “I will take that as a compliment.”

  He laughed, then cleared his throat. “I'll remember your words today, Eydis. Thank you.”

  The bell rang. Jolted out of contemplation, Theo pulled out his phone and checked his messages. He nodded a goodbye before striding toward the exit with hurried steps.

  Eydis stayed back and retrieved the book. She was about to head to the staff room but paused. There was something curious about Theo’s exit.

  Where was he going at lunchtime? As librarian she had always seen him in here, reading straight through the meal bell.

  Curious, she summoned Envy. A shimmer of invisible mist slipped along the skirting boards, already trailing the Vice President’s path.