We’re quiet for a moment before Edward asks for updates on the legal case. As its likely financial backer, he teases, he has the right to that information. I give him the brief summary. He’s harsher on my dad for not wanting me to file the case than I am, to the point I find myself defending my dad from him. And then I get to the part where Electra nearly stabbed me in front of him.

  “What,” says Edward flatly. And then “I shouldn’t be surprised, should I? It’s Electra. You’re okay, though?”

  “Yeah. I think it rattled him more than me, honestly. He’s not used to… Electra.”

  Edward laughs. “I can’t blame him. We shouldn’t have to be used to that.”

  “I know. But…”

  By this time we’re approaching the City’s inner walls. We’re only a few minutes away from the Academy now. I can’t help feeling a little excited at the thought. The streets have been quieter since we got away from the main gates, and there’s only a handful of people passing through the gate into the Inner City. I suppose most people with business in the Inner City would travel by portal rather than coach, so they wouldn’t be approaching from this direction.

  “Talk about something else?” Edward offers as we walk through the gate.

  “Sure.”

  “Then tell me more about this enchanted light project of yours.”

  He asks far more technical questions than I’m prepared for. If I’d known this was the subject change he had in mind, I would have stuck to talking about Electra. I have read the theory, but I didn’t bother to understand the nitty-gritty details. Edward insists I need to, though. I think part of him can’t understand how to cast a spell without the detailed theoretical knowledge he has.

  I humour him by not saying that and by doing my best to answer his questions instead. It would be easier if we could write things down rather than having to hold formulae in our heads. Maybe it’s best to do this later.

  Well, considering we’ve reached the Central Ring, it looks as if we’ll be waiting a while regardless. We make our way through the crowd to the Academy gates, and straight through them without waiting for them to open thanks to our ward access.

  The caretaker, Miss Carr, is waiting in the entrance hall to sign arriving students in. She gives us a disdainful look. Edward says she’s annoyed at the extra security measures Lord Blackthorn insisted on for his time here. I can’t entirely blame her, considering my guess at just how far those security measures would go.

  But the paperwork is filled in without incident. And we’re informed that Electra wants to see us both – together or separately, she doesn’t much mind which – at our earliest convenience.

  “Together,” Edward says as we set off up the main staircase. “And we might as well just get it over with.”

  “At least let me unpack first.”

  “Fine. Meet outside your dormitory in half an hour?”

  “Sure.”

  He walks me all the way there before finally dismissing the levitation-spell on my trunk. “Well, I’ll see you shortly, I suppose.”

  “I suppose you will,” I reply, smiling. It’s nice when partings are such temporary things.

  I’m still smiling when I walk into the dormitory and see Robin.

  She’s sitting on her bed (next to mine), its curtains drawn back so she’s clearly visible. Her hands are folded primly in her lap. I wonder how long she’s been waiting there. Waiting for me. “Tallulah,” she says. “It’s good to see you again.”

  I’m not ready for this. I thought I’d at least have time to think about it, time to work out what I felt and what I wanted to say. “I hope you enjoyed Holy Days,” is the first thing I find to say. Because likewise isn’t quite true.

  “I didn’t,” she replies flatly. “Can we just have an honest conversation rather than making painfully awkward small talk? I’d rather know if I need to request a dorm transfer before I get too far into unpacking.”

  Like Edward said about the other meeting, I might as well just get it over with. “If that’s what you want.” I drag my trunk into the room and set it down by the foot of my bed. “I have half an hour.”

  And it looks like I might not be getting much unpacking done in that time.

  She sighs. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

  “Sorry that you were trying to spy on Edward? Or sorry that he realised?”

  She winces. That probably came out harsher than I intended. “Both, I suppose. I thought – he was never going to tell me anything that important, anyway. He’s smart enough for that. But… it’s normal enough, with friendships between children of the nobility. You always have to keep a little distance, keep your secrets to yourselves. I guess I forgot that Edward isn’t like the rest of us in that way.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He doesn’t play games. You’re either his friend or his enemy. And if you’re his friend then that means you have to put him above your other interests.”

  She’s right. Very right. I remember how hard it was to convince him that I could be his friend while still keeping something as important as Elsie’s secret from him. “He won’t forgive you,” I say.

  “You think I don’t know that?” She laughs bitterly. “I’m not asking for his forgiveness. I’m asking for yours.”

  “What did you tell your family, in the end? Anything about me?”

  Robin shakes her head. “Except that you and Edward are very close. But you wouldn’t need a spy to figure that one out. Just… his preferences. What he likes, what he hates.”

  “What you’d need to know to manipulate him.”

  She sighs. “Yes.”

  At least she’s not denying it. “Can I ask why you fell out with your family?”

  “You can ask. I – I’ll tell you some of it. You know that the Siaril families can’t marry into land-owning families?”

  “Not without disinheriting their spouses. Yes.”

  “Which means that the single best marriage – from a political standpoint – is a Blackthorn.”

  “Is Edward.”

  She nods. “There are only two girls from the families who are close enough in age.”

  “…you and Mildred.” I’m beginning to understand a little now.

  “We used to be friends, if you’d believe that.” Robin laughs. “She wasn’t as awful as she is now, when we were a lot younger. So she knew… things about me. But then things got ugly. We inevitably became rivals. My family was pressuring me a lot to get closer to Edward, and I imagine it would have been the same for her.”

  I realise my nails are digging into my palms. That I’m angry on Robin’s behalf – and, a little bit, on Mildred’s as well. They shouldn’t have to deal with families who care more about their own power and privilege than their children’s happiness.

  “I genuinely liked Edward – still do, a little, if I’m honest. We had so much in common. I thought we understood each other. I thought Mildred understood me. I thought if I talked to her, told her that I had feelings for him, she’d stop trying to win him over.”

  I wince. “I’m guessing that didn’t exactly go according to plan?”

  “No,” Robin whispers. “She told Edward my secrets. Things that would mean he’d – never see me in the same way again. And then the gossip – the things they said about me – it was awful.”

  I’m desperately curious about what secret of Robin’s could have had such consequences. “This secret,” I say slowly.

  “Ask Edward. If you want to know. He’ll tell you.”

  I could do that. But… it’s not something she wants known, whatever it is. “Is it something bad you did?”

  “No,” she replies carefully.

  “Then I won’t ask. It’s not my business.”

  “Thank you.”

  The silence that follows is excruciating. Finally I ask “If we forget about Edward for a minute. Would you still want to be my friend?”

  “It’s not – I know I was spying, but nothing I did was fake. I really cared about the group we had. All of us.”

  “I believe you,” I say. Because I do. And because I think it might help if she knows that.

  “You know I wanted to hate you. But you’re remarkably hard to hate.”

  I think that’s a compliment. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’m not sure how I feel about any of this.

  “It depends,” I say slowly, “on what you mean by forgiveness.”

  She watches me silently. Her expression is tense, guarded, giving nothing away.

  “If you mean, do I understand why you did it? Do I accept you’re not a bad person for doing it? Then yes. I forgive you.”

  “I appreciate that. There’s a but coming, isn’t there? Get it over with.”

  “That’s not what you mean by forgiveness, is it? You mean, can we still be friends?”

  “I suppose I do. Yes.”

  I hate myself a little bit for not saying yes, of course we can in that moment. Because it’s not that simple. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’d like to be. But… you could still gather information about Edward indirectly, through me. I don’t know if I believe you wouldn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Robin says at once. “Really.”

  Stars, I want to believe her, but I know what family does to a person. What it can make them do. And I just… can’t be certain. “I’d be a fool to take the word of an admitted spy.”

  She grimaces.

  “And even without that… Edward wouldn’t like it, if we were friends. It might be that I’d have to choose between him and you.”

  “And we both know what you’d do then.”

  I don’t try to deny it. There’s no point.

  “Just walk away, if that’s what you want to do,” she says flatly.

  “I don’t want to do that,” I protest.

  “Bad phrasing. Not what I meant. I should have said, if it’s inevitable. No point trying if it’ll never work.”

  But I can’t walk away. I can’t accept that it’s inevitable. “I don’t think it’s impossible,” I say.

  “Then you’re more optimistic than I am.”

  Maybe I am. Maybe that’s my fatal flaw. Always wanting to see the best in people. Always wanting to help people, even when it’s a lost cause. I remember how much I wanted to help Mildred to save her father, and what that led to.

  I don’t have to do this.

  Except I do. Because Robin isn’t Mildred. Because I’m me.

  “Would you like to get lunch together one day this week?”

  Robin blinks. “…what?”

  “I can’t promise friendship. Maybe it’s possible, but it won’t be the same as before, and it might not work at all. But lunch? An hour’s conversation about – I don’t know, classes, magic, whatever people talk about that isn’t personal or political drama? That, I can promise. And if it goes well, we can do it again.”

  “Edward won’t like it.”

  “Edward is my best friend, but that doesn’t mean he gets to dictate who I spend my time with.”

  “If you’re sure about that,” Robin says, “then yes. I would like to get lunch with you.”

  “Wednesday?” I can’t imagine Edward and I will want to leave each other’s company for longer than necessary today, and tomorrow there’s a good chance I’ll want to catch up with Elsie and Elizabeth if I don’t find a chance to do that today.

  “Let me just consult my packed social calendar…” Robin laughs bitterly. I presume the joke is that she has no alternative plans whatsoever. “Yes. Wednesday should suit me nicely.”

  “Sounds good.” I glance at the clock. I still have some time to spend unpacking. I stand and move over to my trunk.

  Robin reaches for something that I can’t see buried in her duvet cover. A book. So she hasn’t just been sitting there waiting for me all morning. And she’s doing something which isn’t staring at me, which means I don’t have to feel so self-conscious about my unpacking.

  Not that there’s much of it to be done, really, beyond moving my wash-kit to the bathroom. I definitely didn’t need the half an hour I agreed with Edward (though right now I’m very glad that was the agreement).