Page 18 of Heir of Shadows

He looked relaxed. Dangerous.

Like he could burn the place down without bothering to stand up.

“She does have that hungry stray look,” the guy at Elio’s knee said, grinning.

I grabbed a cinnamon roll, fingers sticky before I even took a bite. “Just getting breakfast before orientation.”

“Orientation?” Elio’s smile sharpened. “That’s for regular students. Royals are exempt from such… basic requirements.”

“Except you, of course,” Cyrus added, voice all smoke. “You’ll need all the help you can get.”

“Though I’m not sure even orientation can teach proper etiquette.” Elio gestured delicately at my roll.

I looked down. Frosting on my fingers. No plate, no fork. Just me, standing in front of their curated perfection with a sticky, half-crushed pastry.

“I think I’ll take this to go,” I muttered, backing toward the door.

“Do run along,” Elio called sweetly. “And don’t forget about the ceremony. It’s quite the tradition—all those people watching.”

Behind me, their laughter curled like smoke.

Ahead, my first day at magical university.

And somewhere in the middle, me—alone, unsure, and already in way too deep.

7

Marigold

The shadows andthe dead things in the walls stirred eagerly as I slipped into Wickem’s main hall. Students filled the temporary benches, their voices bouncing off the stone in a flurry of words like “ley line resonance” and “elemental attunement.” It might as well have been a foreign language.

I gripped my ring to keep my necromancy in check. A student nearby casually levitated their notebook like it was nothing. When I reached for my own magic, it surged like a broken dam, too fast, too much—and all the dead things perked up like I’d just shouted “Party.” Not the best first impression. Unless the goal was a skeleton uprising.

“First day nerves?”

I spun to find a woman next to me. My heart lurched—after yesterday’s funhouse horror show courtesy of Elio, this particular friendly face felt like a potential trap. But something about her energy felt different.

Where Elio’s illusion had been diamond-sharp and perfect, this woman radiated honest warmth. She wore her dark hair in a neat bob that wasn’t quite perfect and her brown eyes held actual kindness.

Even the dead things hummed with something close to relief. I was getting better at reading them—they seemed to like her.

“I’m Ms. Wallace—the real one this time,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “I heard about Elio’s… performance. I promise I’m the genuine article.”

I’d nearly been hurt, and she spoke casually, as if it was all a game. Sympathy or no sympathy, I could tell I’d be on my own here. Still, I studied her carefully, trying to catalog the small imperfections that made her real—the slightly crooked collar of her sapphire blazer, a scuff on one practical heel, the way her ID badge hung slightly askew. Maybe if I knew the differences, I could spot his illusion next time.

“Let me introduce you to some fellow freshmen. It helps to have allies when everything feels overwhelming.” She ushered me toward one of the benches.

She led me to a bench where two other students sat—a girl with close-cropped black hair and protective charms dangling from multiple piercings, and a tall guy with wire-rimmed glasses who radiated scholarly British propriety.

“Oh, thank death, another necromancer freshman!” the girl exclaimed with a grin that lit up her whole face. “I’m Raven. Yes, really, my parents are those kind of witches—all about the symbolic naming. It was either this or Morgana.”

I couldn’t help but smile back. After the other heirs’ cold disdain, her enthusiasm felt sincere. “Marigold,” I said, shaking her hand.

“I’m Lucas,” the guy said. “Just got accepted to the Theoretical Necromancy track, though that might be ambitious for the first semester.”

“Might be,” Ms. Wallace said with a glimmer of humor in her brown eyes. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Raven patted the seat next to her, and I slid into it. “It’s okay to be nervous,” she said. “I totally am too.” She looked around the great hall like she couldn’t quite believe she was here. “I’ve wanted to go to Wickem forever, and now that I’m here…”

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