The room stayed quiet long after Seraphina returned to her desk.
Not an awkward silence—just a careful one. The kind where both people are pretending nothing unusual happened while being painfully aware that something very much had.
I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over in my head with growing regret.
"You're just cute."
I wanted to crawl into the mattress and disappear.
Sigurd sat on my chest, arms crossed, glaring down at me like a disappointed grandfather. "You have the subtlety of a collapsing bridge."
"I didn't mean it like that," I muttered.
"You never mean it like that. And yet here we are."
Jerry lifted his head from where he'd coiled near my pillow. "I don't know," he said lazily. "She didn't seem offended. Mildly flustered, maybe. Entertained. Possibly intrigued."
"That's not helping."
Seraphina shifted in her chair. The faint scratch of her quill resumed, steady and deliberate, as if nothing at all had happened. Every so often, though, I caught her glancing my way from the corner of her eye.
When she noticed me looking, she smiled.
Not forced. Not polite.
Just… small. Genuine.
My chest tightened in a way I didn't like to think too hard about.
I sat up and swung my legs off the bed. "I'm going to the courtyard," I said quietly, mostly to myself. "I need air."
Sigurd hopped into my pocket. "Run away if you must. Cowardice is sometimes strategic."
Jerry snorted. "You're dramatic."
I slipped out before I could embarrass myself further.
The academy courtyard was quieter this time of day, students either in class or holed up studying. The stone paths were warm underfoot, and somewhere in the distance, water trickled from one of the older fountains.
I sat on the edge of it, leaning back on my hands.
My body ached from training. My head still felt strange—like something behind my eye was watching, waiting. Ever since the vision, ever since Hel, there had been a low hum beneath everything. Not painful. Just… present.
"You're distracted," Jerry said.
"Yeah," I admitted.
Sigurd peeked out of my pocket. "You're letting your guard down. That's dangerous."
"I know."
But it wasn't Cassian I was thinking about. Or Hel. Or even my kingdom.
It was Seraphina's smile. The way her eyes had softened. The brief warmth when our hands brushed.
I frowned. "This is stupid."
"Feelings usually are," Sigurd said. "But they can also be weapons. Or anchors."
"Which is this?"
He studied me for a long moment. "Too early to tell."
Footsteps approached. I stiffened—then relaxed when I saw Alya jogging toward me, tail swishing behind her.
"There you are!" she said, slightly out of breath. "You vanished. I thought you died again."
"I was just—getting air."
Alya plopped down beside me, peering at my face. "You look weird."
"Thank you."
"No, I mean… flustered-weird. Did something happen?"
I hesitated, then shook my head. "Nothing important."
Alya squinted, clearly unconvinced, but let it go. "Swordsmanship class was brutal today, huh?"
"You could say that."
She grinned. "The instructor told me you've got potential. High praise from him."
My lips twitched. "He also said my form was terrible."
"That sounds like him."
We sat there for a while, watching students cross the courtyard, the academy alive with quiet movement. It struck me, suddenly, how normal this all felt.
Too normal.
I thought of the Hidden Kingdom. Of fog and hunger and endless night. Of people who depended on me without even knowing where I was.
My fingers curled against the stone.
I couldn't stay here forever.
Alya nudged me. "Hey. You okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Just… thinking."
She smiled softly. "You do that a lot."
Maybe too much.
When the bells rang for the next class, I stood, brushing dust from my clothes. "I should go."
Alya hopped up too. "Same. Magic theory. Wanna walk together?"
"Sure."
As we headed back inside, I glanced once over my shoulder—up toward the dorm windows.
For just a moment, I thought I saw Seraphina watching from above.
Then the curtain shifted, and she was gone.
My heart skipped anyway.
Whatever I was becoming here—whatever paths were opening, whatever truths my eye was beginning to show me—I had the feeling this academy was only the beginning.
And that some connections, once made, would be far harder to leave behind than I expected.