THE NEXT NIGHT, the chapter mills around the great room. The competing Pages are too nervous to eat, but other people are enjoying satay chicken skewers and peanut sauce. I’m trying my best to stay calm, even with my heart pounding in my chest.

Tonight’s the combat trial and, while I still feel unprepared, the session with Sel last night at least gave me hope. We never reproduced the red mage flame—and we both agreed that was a good thing, in the public setting of the trial—but he’d shown me how to use my height and limited abilities in new ways.

Nick enters and finds me right away, pulling me to the balcony windows. It feels like I haven’t seen him in ages.

“I’m so sorry I had to leave without notice. My dad just wanted me close, and the other chapters are asking questions about the Table, and… it’s bad. Really bad. Can you forgive me?” He leans back and frowns. “You look scared, B.” His eyes widen. “Did Sel get to you again?”

“Not like that,” I say vaguely. “He… gave me some combat tips yesterday.”

“What?” Nick’s jaw clenches. “I ordered him to stay away, not to look at you, talk to you—”

“It’s fine.” I squeeze his arm. “It was good. He genuinely helped.”

He looks skeptical, but some of the strain leaves his shoulders. “Still, Rule Three is in full effect. Even more so after he performs Tor and Sar’s Oath ceremony tonight.” His eyes are slate and storm, worry and tension. “Did something else happen?”

Every time I think of Patricia, I get both angry and sad. “Remember that person on campus who I thought could help me? The one I trusted?”

“Yeah?”

Our moment of privacy is coming to a close. Heads are turning our way. “I was wrong. They can’t help me.”

I can tell he’s genuinely disappointed. “I’m sorry, B. It’s gonna be okay, though. We can—” The lights flicker, cutting him off.

Time to head down to the trial.

The room empties around us, and Nick leans against the window, my hand in his still hidden from view. He watches the others file out while I try to find some semblance of reason. As soon as the last person leaves and the door clicks shut, he wraps me in his arms and buries his face in my hair. I resist for a moment, not ready to let him in, but as soon as he holds me, I feel warmer, stronger, safer. Nick’s heart beats and mine answers, call and response. I could sob with relief.

“You’re hurting, and I don’t know what to do. Please tell me what to do.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”

“Deep breaths, okay? It’ll help you stay calm.”