Page 125 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Alaire held his gaze, refusing to flinch. She could almost see the gears grinding behind his eyes.
Headmaster Carth clapped his hands in an overly cheerful tone. “Perfect. We’re all in agreement. Alaire will continue her education at Aeris Academy and answer the Consortium’s call. Dexter will vouch for her intentions.”
She rose, smoothing her palms down the front of her leathers, meeting Dexter’s stare with cool ambivalence. “If this is settled, I’ll return to my classes.”
Dexter leaned on the headmaster’s desk. “Remember, Alaire—we’ll be watching.” The threat in his tone was thinly veiled.
She didn’t respond. Turning on her heel, she strode out. She could feel their eyes drilling into her back.
If she wasn’t careful, those gazes would be replaced with knives.
Wind rattled the windows of Kaia’s room as Alaire sat cross-legged on the thick rug, pointedly ignoring the piles of clothes Kaia had tossed in the corner behind her desk.
Archer sat rigid in the chair by the window, eyeing Kaia’s bed like it might bite him.
When Kaia finally settled after handing them each a cup of warm tea, she sprawled across her bed on top of a crinkled stack of notes. Alaire cleared her throat—she’d asked them to meet here, after all.
“I had an interesting day,” she began, filling them in on her conversation with Dexter and the headmaster. She told them about his underhanded threats, insinuations about her loyalty, and the target he’d painted on her back despite their so-called arrangement. Her nails dug crescents into her palms as she recounted his parting words.
Kaia propped herself up on one elbow, eyes widening. “That bastard. What are you going to do?”
“It’s more of where… the Celestial Cascade Ball, to be exact,” she said. “All of Elithian’s nobility will attend. It gives me a chance to start planning.”
“It would be unwise to dismiss the opportunity.” Archer inclined his head, expression thoughtful. “We need to be strategic—make the right acquaintances, observe existing alliances, and gather what intelligence we can.”
“We?” Alaire echoed.
“Of course,” Archer replied.
“Duh.” Kaia rolled her eyes, as if it were silly of her to suggest otherwise.
Alaire glanced between her friends. The weight of the night eased. The plan was simple: observe, infiltrate, and stay one step ahead. Because this wasn’t just a ball—it was a battle wrapped in silk and draped in diamonds.
Archer’s lips quirked in faint amusement. “Diplomacy is an art form.”
“And we’re going to paint a masterpiece.” Kaia clapped her hands together.
Thirty
The stone steps leading to the Versaille Labyrinths spiraled down into darkness, surfaces worn smooth by generations of students.
“Another romantic rendezvous?” The gargoyle leaned down from its perch. “First early morning trainings, yearning across the Aeriel Coliseum, and now the labyrinths. How scandalous.”
“I’m going to class,” Alaire muttered.
“Oh, we know exactly the kind of ‘class’ you’re going to,” the second gargoyle chimed in. “Shadowed alcoves, whispered conversations. The perfect spot for a forbidden romance.”
“You two seriously need?—”
“To mind our own business? Never! What else do you think feeds our daily activities but the academy’s latest rumors?”
Alaire shook her head and continued down.
Professor Stere’s classroom felt like stepping into a scholar’s fevered dream. Scrolls and parchment covered every surface, some floating lazily in midair. Candles flickered in iron sconces, shadows dancing across the vaulted ceiling.
“Alaire!” Kaia waved her over to a cluster of seats near the middle of the room.
Archer looked up from his notes with a grin. “Thought you might’ve gotten lost in those corridors again.”
