The year of study doesn’t affect when a student can be tapped, so someone who joins as a senior will only ever be a first-year Page—and will only get one chance to be Selected as a Legendborn Squire. If Craig’s a fourth-year, then he was tapped as a freshman.

Nick returns the boy’s handshake. “McMahons are Vassals to the Line of Bors, right? Fitz or Evan brought you in?”

“Yep.” Craig nods and raises his hand to show off a thin, dark orange leather band wrapped around his wrist with a silver coin at the center. “My family’s given five generations of outside service. I’m the first to Page.” His eyes dart to me, then back to Nick. “It’s true, then? You’re claiming your title?”

A slight flush creeps into Nick’s cheeks, but his chin tips up. “It’s true.”

Craig grins. “I’m a senior. Last opportunity to Squire. Didn’t think I’d ever meet you, but…” His eyes drift my way briefly, something sharp behind them. “I’d like to put my hat in your ring. Officially. Got a minute?”

Nick’s jaw clenches, and Whitty smiles into his drink. Craig pulls Nick into a conversation and they drift a few feet away. Greer sees the confusion on my face and leans in close. “You’re brand-new to all this, right?”

I have our agreed-upon story ready to go. “Nick and I met through Early College. He thought I’d be a good fit.”

“Only Nick could get away with plucking somebody outside Vassalage,” they say, and offer an encouraging smile. “He’s probably happy you’re not one of these.” They point their chin discreetly in Craig’s direction.

“One of what?”

“Legendborn acolyte. Fundamentalist Line worshippers. Craig there wants Nick to choose him before the Trials’ve even started. Want some gum? I chew when I’m nervous.” They reach into their bag to fish out a fresh pack. I notice their red ribbon choker and make an educated guess that Greer’s family serves whatever Line Felicity and Russ belong to. When I decline, they keep talking. “The acolytes are a special kinda believer, that’s for sure.”

“You say that like the Order’s a cult.”

“Not far off from one, some days,” Whitty interjects, watching a few more people wander in.

Greer shrugs. “All of it’s a leap of faith when you’re an outsider and don’t have the Sight yet. You seem to be taking it pretty well, Bree.” Greer assesses me with their brown eyes and kind smile before stuffing another piece of gum in their mouth. “How’d you react when Nick told you about Arthur?”