Oswin’s happiness emblazoned in my mind, I stumbled my way through the atrium to the library. The gold flecks in the marble floors blazed in the early afternoon sun streaming from the tall windows.

On the opposite side, the library’s open bronze doors only caught the glimmer of the ever burning torches beside it, a glimpse of its majesty during dusk as the dying sun illuminated the etchings of Le Savant’s more famous stories. I hobbled through the door, the musty spell of old books wafting like freshly baked bread.

Out of every room in West Ridge Academy, the most stunning was the library, and rightly so. Mahogany stacks stretched for as far as the eye could see, tattooed with curling bronze and gold spells protecting the shelves’ contents from humidity and dust. Le Savant’s legends continued in fresco over the domed ceiling above, but the stained glass windows were just colours, as Oswin had fancied them hundreds of years before.

Amid the hushed whispers of magic or books, I wobbled forward, feet shuffling muffled by the spells incorporated into the marble floors. The library should have been overwhelming, looking upon stacks and stacks of knowledge I would never know, feeling the tinge of Le Savant’s powers in spells I would never unravel… A reminder of everything I had failed to live up to. A place I should not feel welcome, but barred from.

And yet, it felt like stepping into the kitchen at Auvergne House, with a flurry of cooks ushering me in to help them bake. A warm blanket lulling me to sleep — but I had already slept, in the exam, and nearly failed because of it. I couldn’t sleep, I had to study. I had to ignore the whispered voices cooing to me, I had to… I had to study for…

What was it? I dragged my fingers through my short brown hair, trying to scratch the knowledge out of my head.

“Daniel!”

I groaned inside at Blaise’s voice, then bit my cheek. Blaise didn’t deserve it. We’d been friends since our first dinner at West Ridge, when, stumbling bodily into him, I had smashed his face into pudding. While I had apologised effusively, Blaise had laughed it off, inviting me to sit and sneaking me naughty magazines he’d collected even back then.

What should have been footsteps ringing was little more than muffled scuffling as Blaise appeared next to me, his blue uniform jacket unbuttoned and his striped tie undone. “I waited for you. I wanted to cheer you up.”

“Thank you.” I offered him a wan smile, the best impression of happy I could manage at the moment. Blaise frowned in return. “But I need to study for the next exam.”

Blaise raised his golden eyebrows.

“I do,” I insisted. “My grades—”

He slapped me on my shoulder. “Exams are done, mate. Practicum was our last.”

“Our last?” That couldn’t be right. I counted on my fingers, but the number beyond four evaded me.

Oh right, my report card! I slapped down my pockets, trying to find the errant paper, before the blood drained from my face. I’d left it in the Practicum classroom. Oh Le Savant, now I would never know what exam I was failing by not studying right now.

“Did you even sleep last night?” Blaise asked. “Last I remember, you were still bent over your desk with only a candle.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

Blaise softened, looking more like the autumn day than the frustrated friend. “You didn’t. But you look like a mess.”

I tilted my head, in case that shook something loose in my otherwise blank mind.

“I can’t believe you even fell asleep in class,” he continued. “How late did you go to bed?”

“Not late.”

“Then when?”

“Well…”

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

Blaise shook his head, his short blond locks dancing around him. “You need to sleep.”

“Venetian,” I said.

“What?”

“Venetian — we have the Venetian history exam, in the Venetian language—”

Blaise clapped a hand on my shoulder. “That was three days ago, mate. I think you need to sit down.”

I nodded. I thought so too.

“It’s just one more semester, and then we’ll be in the guild,” he continued. “Then we can just sit back with a good chardonnay, plenty of erotic magazines, and perhaps a comfy job in parliament.”

“It’s not that easy,” I said.

“Well, sure, we have to publish theoretical papers once in a while, but our future is golden.”

My shoulders fell. “If we survive our apprenticeship. If we even get into the guild in the first place… If I can even get Father to look at me–” I bit down on my lip and held my breath to stop talking.

“Apprenticeship can’t be that hard,” Blaise said. I exhaled in relief. He was a good friend. “But after that… It’s not like I need a legacy. All I need is a suitable income, the comforts of guild membership, a beautiful and flexible wife.”

If only I could say the same. If only I could be attracted to said beautiful and flexible wife.

“Oh, there’s Marcus. Marcus!” Blaise grinned and pushed me toward the far side of the library. About to round the corner into the stacks, Marcus paused at Blaise’s call, then turned, an equally wide grin splitting his face.

“Ciao! Amico!” Marcus Bellomi’s Venetian rang through the library, despite the dampening spells. I tensed, searching around for the librarian about to swoop down threatening a cat-o’-nine-tails. Finding no danger, I groaned. Last year, after a voluptuous local bar maid had confided she found Venetian men utterly irresistible, Marcus had taken up the unfortunate habit of playing up his Venetian heritage.

Or rather, what Marcus had assumed was Venetian habits, his family having left Venezia for Fallion over two hundred years ago and never returning since, not even after the floating city had been annexed. Slicking back his thick wavy black hair in the Venetian manner was one thing, but yelling Venetian phrases was another. Our Venetian language professor, having grown up there, never seemed to raise his voice above a carefully controlled manner. But Marcus always waved those objections aside.

“Finally done your exam? Molto bene!” Marcus added, apparently for good measure.

“Took you long enough.” Blaise shrugged, then grinned. “What can I say? I got a little distracted.”

By protecting me from myself. I offered Blaise an apologetic smile, but he waved me off. My shoulders tensed. “Are you sure—”

“There’s no more exams.”

“Oh… good.” My fate was already completely sealed. Joy.

Marcus, instead of offering his Venetian wisdom, just raised his brow and gestured for us to follow him. We rounded the corner, coming into sight of the row of square tables, only one occupied. It really must be the end of exams.

Levi leaned on the opposite side of the table, red roots starting to show underneath his blackened hair, which he’d sworn wasn’t to look like Marcus’, which was good, because it looked anything but. He rubbed his thumb along a rutile gemstone, worn smooth into the shape of a blood red tear. “Marcus, what took you so long?”

“Testa di cazzo!” Marcus boomed, following it up with a rude gesture as Levi laughed. “I dominated that exam. How about you?”

Levi clenched the rutile harder. So I wasn’t the only man who had struggled through the exam.

But sitting on the other side of the table… My breath froze in my chest. Valere was joining us? My cheeks started to heat again. Valere kept his eyes intent on the open book in front of him, as if he were alone, those pale lips pursed, as if waiting for me to…

Blaise paused to beckon me. “Come on.”

I glanced back to Valere. “Maybe I should…”

He followed my gaze. I raised my hands to deny his allegations, if Blaise had figured out my thoughts, while cursing myself mentally. He raised his eyebrows. “Valere? Valere’s nothing special. Except extra special at looking out for himself, and letting the team down.”

“He’s on the handball team?” I asked. Blaise and the others were all on West Ridge’s handball team since their third year, when they were allowed to try out. I would take this secret to my grave, but I never really listened to what they said regarding the team, at least once Blaise understood that no amount of personal coaching could force me to be athletic enough to make the alternates list.

Like Vespasian had given up on me. I closed my hand, willing that thought to flee. It didn’t, only made my stomach drop like it had plunged into a cold pool.

“Once upon a time.” Blaise rolled his eyes. “Then he thought he was too good for us. He thought Dominic was better than us. I think he just couldn’t hack it. Quit a few weeks in–”

“Blaise.” Marcus barked the word, without exuberance or Venetian. He and Blaise exchanged long looks, ending with Blaise jerking his hand.

“Sorry, stupid question,” I said. “Let’s just go…”

“Before you collapse,” Blaise said. They exchanged one last look before Marcus dropped into the chair between Valere and Levi. Valere merely turned a page.

Why was he still studying? Oh Le Savant, there really was another exam, and I had to—

Blaise clapped me on the back. “There’s no more exams!”

“But—”

“Marcus,” Blaise interrupted. He shoved me forward and down into the empty chair across from Valere. “What entertainments can you offer to distract this one from studying?”

“I wish,” Marcus said. “What entertainment are you providing, amico?”

“You don’t have anything?” Blaise asked. “For shame.”

“On your mother,” Marcus finished.

“What time is your carriage arriving?”

“Too soon to actually do anything, too late to avoid boredom.”

Blaise stuck out his tongue.

“Or you can take your own carriage back,” Marcus reminded him.

“Squished in one carriage with my four brothers? I’d rather be hanged. The smell alone will finish me off.”

“So stop complaining and entertain us.”

I folded my arms on the table and set my heavy head down. Blaise stroked my hair. I tensed and slapped his hand away. Marcus and Levi both laughed.

“See if I do a favour for you,” Blaise muttered.

I should have apologised, but I squeezed my eyes and mouth shut instead. I couldn’t. His hand felt so nice — but a man’s hand shouldn’t feel nice. The next thing I’d know, they would have all figured it out. Daniel the sodomite. Daniel the burning sodomite, strapped to a stake in the village square.

Even though his hand didn’t feel nice in that way. Blaise was like a brother to me, but I had to be careful.