Brendan pushes his chair away from the table with purpose, like he intends to stand and help her, but Blackwood glances in his direction and he stops midmotion.

The guards aren’t restraining Nyx, and all I can think is that the dungeon must be an absolute nightmare to subdue someone as fiery and spiteful as she is.

“November,” Blackwood says, and I wish I could crawl under my desk. The only thing more disturbing than the Academy’s dungeon is its eye-for-an-eye punishment system. “Come up here.”

I push my chair back, and the noise it makes is amplified by the eerie stillness of the room. All eyes are on me.

“Show us your arm,” Blackwood says, and I reluctantly pull my white linen shirt off my shoulder, revealing a four-inch cut where my stitches were recently removed.

Blackwood turns to Nyx. “Nyx, you swapped your dull practice sword for a sharp blade in class. As far as I can ascertain from your professor, you intended to kill November with it. For that offense, you have spent time in the dungeon. But there is still the matter of the wound you inflicted. As per our rules, November will now be given a chance to retaliate.” Blackwood holds out her palm and one of the guards hands her a rolled-up piece of leather from his belt. As she unfolds it, the firelight reflects off the blade of a knife.

Blackwood gives the weapon to me and I reluctantly take it from her. “An eye for an eye, November. You may cut her arm in the same way she cut yours. No other action will be taken.” She gives me a warning look.

I reflexively glance at Layla, hoping something about her expression will tell me how to deal with this nightmare of a situation, but her face is completely neutral and she stares straight ahead at the headmaster.

I study the knife before looking up at Nyx. She meets my eyes, and even though it’s obvious she wants nothing more than to collapse, she straightens her posture and wears a proud expression. I can’t see how hurting her will change the fact that she tried to kill me. It definitely won’t make us even. But I also can’t flat-out refuse to retaliate; everyone here will consider it weakness. Beads of sweat form in my hairline.

Blackwood watches me, noticing my hesitation. “I don’t imagine you require further clarification, considering this is not the first time I have explained this to you,” she says, referring to my second day at the Academy, when Matteo punched me in the face. “You are not above the rules, November.”

Aarya sucks in air like this is the best show she’s seen in years.

The knife feels foreign in my palm, with none of its usual familiar weightiness. I glance at the door, and when I look back at Nyx, my stomach does a somersault.