Through his own frantic breaths, Thirtyx heard the grind of glass on glass. Benn's weight shifted on the bed. He smacked his lips. Glass on glass again, then Benn was wrapping Thirtyx's fingers around another vial—another calming potion, this one half drank. Thirtyx didn't hesitate this time before downing its contents. He needed to get a hold of himself. Rhea and Benn would start asking questions about why the knowledge bothered him so much and who he thought would misuse it if given the chance. He could wave his hand and issue vague statements about the state of the world, but it wouldn't be the whole truth.

The truth that the Verith council was lying in wait for their chance to usurp Grimmary.

The truth that the pretense under which they sent Thirtyx to this school—to help reunite the Veriths with the rest of the community—was a complete sham.

The truth that Thirtyx had once been instructed to befriend the prince and princess because the Verith council had designated him to assassinate the king.

But that was years ago, the calming potion reminded him. The instruction may have been the catalyst for his friendship with the twins, but their bond certainly wasn't built on it. Heck, the Verith council had abandoned him after his third year, and he hadn't had any contact with them since. Clearly, they’d changed course and decided to plot against Grimmary some other way—a way that didn't involve an adolescent forming a real friendship with the people he'd been sent to betray. Thirtyx was free to do as he wished now, and he certainly didn’t wish to assassinate his best friends’ father.

But he still hadn't told Benn and Rhea. After all this time, would they understand? Even if they did, if word got out, would anyone else? Thirtyx owed it to himself to at least get through school before dropping that bombshell.

The calming potion agreed. He had his whole future ahead of him—one not dictated by the Verith state, which had isolated itself from the rest of the world nearly a decade before Thirtyx was born. He had plenty of time to tell his friends the truth.

"I'm clearly going to need to make more of those," Benn said as he took the vial back from Thirtyx. "I should probably savor the ones I have, though. The ones Shifa made taste twice as good as mine ever have."

Thirtyx snorted. Having tasted a few of Benn's potions, he knew the young monarch wasn't lying. "What, no time for cooking lessons this summer while you were learning sparkly gold magic?"

Benn leaned against the wall and closed his eyes with a satisfied grin. "No cooking, but I'm on the verge of eighth tier in Sigraexil now. I'd be the youngest in Lamiakk history to get there."

Thirtyx had taken a fleeting interest in the martial art when they were younger—he'd reached second tier before giving it up—but he was glad his days of being Benn's practice dummy were behind him.

Rhea groaned. "Grimm didn't let me stop my palace training either, Commander." Rhea's sneering emphasis on the title that awaited her brother after graduation made Benn roll his eyes. "You know that border dispute between the Trolls and the Devils? I'm the one who wrote the peace treaty. I interviewed both councils to hear their demands and worked out a suitable compromise, then Grimm swooped in to take all the credit."

Thirtyx raised an eyebrow. "I heard there was a pretty violent protest at the signing ceremony. Maybe he was keeping you safe?"

Rhea flopped back onto Benn's bed with a huff. "Well what is all this training about if not to protect ourselves? I was under the impression that was what our years of magic education and this new glimmery sparkly stuff was for."

Benn shot Thirtyx an exasperated look—the epitome of "you see what I've had to deal with"—which quickly turned to sympathy. "Are you alright? I really am sorry to dump this on you. It's just been..."

"I get it," Thirtyx said with a weak smile. "And I’m sorry I was upset that you guys weren't here and didn't communicate. I..." He scratched absently behind one of his pointed ears. "I try not to take you guys for granted, but you're really all I have, you know? So I sometimes forget you're wrapped up in..."

"Trying to run the world." Rhea brushed off his sincerity with the wave of her hand. "No big deal. Besides, hanging out with you is more fun anyway. I may be amazing at writing peace treaties, but it's boring as Pfah."

Benn chuckled. "You think we should stop cursing their world now that we're using their magic?"

“Oh Pfah no,” Rhea doubled down. "Just because we're borrowing their resources doesn't mean we have to act like them. Ugh, Thirtyx, they're just as grumpy and uptight as all the legends say. There are practically rules for breathing there."

Thirtyx sat up straighter, and his ears perked up. While his hunger wasn't completely sated, he'd gotten a decent meal from the lead-up to this massive revelation. The thrill of forbidden knowledge about Iwabo Pfah—knowledge even most of Grimmary’s advisers probably didn't have—overpowered his desire to feed on the unknown.

He leaned forward, hands braced enthusiastically on his knees. "Tell me everything."