The grounds of Wydewood Academy were finally teeming with life again, but the influx of their giddy, nervous energy into Thirtyx's system only made him more anxious.

Sure, it was better than the near-starvation he'd endured for two months, painstakingly learning the teachers' schedules so he could plant himself in a nearby stairwell or in a doorway just out of sight. The librarian—old, stern, but goodhearted Mrs. Wiggins—had taken pity on him by the third week and slipped extra details of their movements into Thirtyx’s library book. She'd deny it if you asked, but then again, she denied a lot of things. Asking her probing questions just to hear her cryptic answers had been Thirtyx’s chief source of sustenance for ten years of school breaks.

Which made it a smidge bittersweet when she breathed a heavy, rolling sigh through her draconic snout—a sigh that carried clearly from the front desk to the window nook Thirtyx had made the home of his waking hours. "Venmagalion!" 

He slid off the window ledge and made to put the bookmark in his novel, but at the last moment, he dog-eared the page instead. He made a real show of it, too, sauntering toward the desk with a smirk, fidgeting with the corner of the paper for far longer than warranted.

The Dragonfolk rapped her claws abruptly against the veneer of the counter. "Venmagalion, I swear, if you dog-ear one more of my books, I won't let you spend your breaks in here anymore."

The glint of humor in her yellow eyes—reptilian, with an elongated pupil—made him play along. "Empty threat, Mrs. Wiggins. And you know it. I'm a senior, now. Haven't you heard?"

A tendril of smoke rolled out of her burnt orange snout at the snort she gave. "Oh well excuse me, Mr. Senior. I didn't know that status gave you permission to manhandle school property. Maybe you don't have any breaks left to sit in here and harass me, but I could mark all your books past due at the end of the semester and keep you from graduating."

Thirtyx chuckled. "Sometimes, I feel like you're the only adult in this place who wouldn't pull a stunt like that."

He wouldn't—couldn't—say it if he didn't mean it. That bittersweet acknowledgement passed between them as Thirtyx reckoned with the den of wolves he was about to throw himself back into, and Mrs. Wiggins steeled herself for pretending she hadn't spent the break doting on the poor Verith boy. Thirtyx would never dream of upsetting her social status by telling anyone she’d politely kept him company for eight school breaks now. Only Rhea and Benn knew how much of a Twins-sent blessing the librarian had been to Thirtyx.

But thinking about Rhea and Benn revived a wave of panic Thirtyx had been trying hard to keep suppressed, so he cleared his throat. "I was near the end of a chapter. What did you need from me?"

"I hate to do this, Venmagalion, but I have to close early. The teachers are using the library for their pre-term meeting."

Thirtyx nodded. It was the same routine at the start of every term, but he hadn't known it would hit him so hard this time. "I understand."

"Besides, don't you have some schoolmates to go pester?" She peered over the rims of her rectangular glasses. "Everyone is coming back today. That should include your royal pals, shouldn't it?"

Thirtyx tried to hide the grimace. "It... it should, yes."

"Then stop bothering me and go bother them instead!"

She raised her voice to a menacing roar that took Thirtyx aback, but as the librarian reared her draconic head, she flashed him a wink. Of course. Time for them to both get back into character.

"Y— yes of course, Mrs. Wiggins." Thirtyx collected his book and flashed her a smirk as he headed for the door.

He expected to emerge from the library into a cacophony of chaos, but the hallways were as quiet as they’d ever been. The caravans had only begun arriving this morning, so most people were still in the dorms setting up their stuff. Hanging up their clothes. Redecorating their walls. Greeting their friends.

Their friends.

Thirtyx gritted his teeth. They would be here—and he was likely to hear about their arrival long before he saw them. The second their caravan came into view, the gossip would travel far faster than the creaky wood and metal of charmed carriages. He’d hear the whispers from the newer students who hadn't gotten used to their presence yet. He'd feel the sparks of nervousness as people tried to decide how they'd act around the now-senior prince and princess. He wouldn't miss them, even if he was halfway across campus when they arrived.

They would be here.

Or they wouldn't.