By the time I left the testing office, my nerves were fried, my hands shaky, and my stomach doing somersaults. Jerry coiled around my wrist like a smug bracelet, glancing at my sealed results envelope every few steps.
"Open it," he urged.
"No."
"Open it."
"No."
"Coward."
"I'm ignoring you."
I wasn't ignoring him.
But the idea of seeing a large, ugly F stamped across multiple subjects felt like inviting a heart attack. I survived the fog. I survived sea monsters. I survived Cassian stabbing me. But grades? Those felt lethal.
When I finally reached my dorm hall, I exhaled shakily and pushed the door open.
"AHH—MAVIS!"
Alya launched herself off my bed like a missile.
I shrieked. Jerry shrieked. Alya shrieked because we shrieked.
Then she clung to my shoulders, shaking me.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN! I've been waiting for HOURS! HOURS, MAVIS!"
"I was taking the written test!" I wheezed. "Please stop rattling my skull. Some of us have fragile brains."
Alya froze.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"That makes sense." She nodded with immediate, unearned confidence. "Okay! Come on!"
"W–What—?"
Too late.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me back into the hallway like a pet on a leash.
"We are getting FOOD because I am STARVING and you look like you haven't eaten since the dawn of time!"
"That is oddly accurate," Jerry mused.
"Traitor," I hissed.
By the time we reached the cafeteria, students swarmed the place—nobles in pristine uniforms, knights with polished pauldrons, beastfolk with twitching ears and tails. The room buzzed with chatter, gossip, and the universal panic that followed exam day.
Alya dumped food onto her tray with reckless abandon.
I grabbed… something that looked like soup. I hoped it was soup.
We sat at a corner table.
"Grades," Alya demanded, mouth full of bread.
My soul left my body.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"Alya—"
She leaned in, narrowing her eyes in a way that reminded me startlingly of Seraphina scolding Cassian.
"Show. Me. The. Grades."
And because I feared her, I handed over my card.
Alya grabbed it—and gasped so loudly half the cafeteria looked over.
"YOU—DID—SO—GOOD!"
I slapped a hand over her mouth. "Don't broadcast it! People will think I studied!"
Alya wiggled free, eyes sparkling.
"Look at this!"
Swordsmanship: S
Magic Theory: S
Alchemy: F-
Language Arts: B+
History: A-
Noble Etiquette: — (pass/no pass)
Alya slapped the card onto the table. "THIS IS AMAZING!"
I rubbed my face. "Alya. I literally failed alchemy so hard they invented a new grade for me."
"It builds character."
"Alya—"
"Besides!" She shoved her own card into my hands. "LOOK!"
Her grades:
Magic Theory: S
Language Arts: A-
History: B-
Alchemy: C+
Noble Etiquette
"We have Magic Theory together!" Alya beamed. "Same class!"
I blinked. "Really?"
"YES! And I'm not sitting alone with a bunch of snobby nobles—thank the gods!"
Jerry muttered, "Or curse them."
Alya ignored him and leaned close. "So, what's your first class tomorrow?"
I checked my schedule.
"Language Arts… at eight."
Alya's face twisted. "Ew. Morning classes."
"That's all of them," I pointed out.
"EWW."
I sighed and pushed my tray away. "Okay, I need to sleep. I didn't realize class starts so early."
"It doesn't," Alya corrected. "Just yours."
I groaned.
Jerry snickered.
Alya waved me off dramatically. "Go, go! Sleep so you don't die in class like a wilted herb!"
"Thanks for the encouragement."
"You're welcome!"
She gave me a bright grin before darting out of the cafeteria.
I trudged back to my dorm like a zombie.
When I entered, I threw myself onto the bed and let out a long, pitiful groan.
Jerry poked my cheek.
"You sound like a sick yak."
"I'm allowed to be dramatic."
"You're always dramatic."
"Jerry."
He flicked his tail. "Okay. Fine. Complain. What happened today?"
I rolled onto my back and rambled, words spilling out without control.
"How was I supposed to know alchemy cared about ratios? Why is Language Arts obsessed with metaphors? Why did Noble Etiquette ask if nobles are superior to commoners—like that isn't the dumbest question ever invented? And don't get me started on the fog-seeing-eye-of-truth thing—"
A soft laugh drifted across the room.
I froze.
My head snapped up.
Seraphina sat in the corner at her desk, quill paused above her parchment, watching me with warm amusement.
Her hazel eyes glimmered with something teasing yet soft.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she said, lips curving into the faintest smile. "But you were… lively."
My face ignited.
Jerry whispered, "We're doomed."
Seraphina rested her chin on her hand. "You had quite the day, it seems."
I swallowed. "Y-You heard all that?"
"Most of it." She tilted her head. "I didn't know you were such a complainer."
"I'm not!"
"Mmm." Her smile widened. "If you say so."
I sputtered helplessly as she returned to her writing, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.
Jerry whispered, "She's laughing at you."
"I KNOW."
"I like her."
"I KNOW, JERRY."
But despite my humiliation, despite my chaos and her perfect composure…
Seraphina's soft laughter felt strangely comforting.
And something inside me—something new, something fragile—felt lighter.
The day had been long, exhausting, and full of disasters.
But somehow…
It had ended on a good note.
Or at least an interesting one.
And at the Academy, interesting was probably the best I could hope for.