Page 29 of Hex Appeal

"We're working through that," Ceries said, feeling a growing sense of dread.

"I bet."Thorncraft's smirk made her skin crawl.

"What do you want?"Malachai snarled, his anger barely contained.The room temperature dropped several degrees in response to his emotions.

"Simple.Either end this inappropriate relationship and maintain professional distance..."Thorncraft smiled like a cat with cream."Or I'll be forced to report this to the Board.Take the day to decide.Your careers or your hearts?Such a difficult choice."

After he left, Ceries and Malachai shared a long look.The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and impossible choices.The office, just moments ago alive with magic and passion, now felt cold and empty.

"Ceries—" Malachai started, his voice strained.

"Don't say what I think you're going to say."She could read it in his eyes, the decision already half-formed.

"He's right.Our relationship is unprofessional."

"Unprofessional?"She stood, pacing the office as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her."Is that all it is to you?"

Against his will, his eyes tracked her movement, remembering how she'd felt in his arms, how perfectly their magic had synchronized.

"Of course not, but our careers—"

"Are important," she finished."But so is this."She gestured between them, encompassing everything they'd discovered together."What we have, what we could build."

"It's not that simple."

"It never is."She stopped pacing, turning to face him."But making the safe choice isn't always making the right one.You taught me that."

"I did?"

"Last night.When you finally trusted me enough to tell me about Windermoore."Her expression softened, remembering his vulnerability in sharing his darkest professional moment."Sometimes the biggest risk is not taking one at all."

The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his response.

"I need time to think," he said finally.

Her smile was sad but understanding."Of course you do.You're practical that way."She headed for the door, then paused, one hand on the knob."And the students need us.The students need you.I guess there really isn't a difficult choice after all."

As she left, closing the door quietly behind her, Malachai slumped into his chair.He stared at the rose petals scattered across his usually immaculate office—physical reminders of something that had bloomed unexpectedly and might now wither before it had truly had a chance to grow.

Outside his window, rain began to fall, matching his mood perfectly.

A shadow fell across Malachai's desk.Looking over, he was startled to find Headmistress Raven's raven familiar, Edgar, perched on his bookshelf.

“Headmistress Raven sends her regards,” the familiar croaked, its voice surprisingly melodious for a raven.“She suggests you remember that proper procedures sometimes require creative interpretation.”

“That sounds more like Professor Frostwind's philosophy than the Headmistress's,” Malachai observed.

The raven's head tilted.“Perhaps there's wisdom in both approaches."

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