"Uh," Beck says, clearly struggling as Sestra plants her palms on his desk, leaning into his space until he shrinks back. "Maybe Empire likes a high success rate? With tethering... or something?"

Sestra's nostrils flare as she inhales deeply, then releases a long-suffering sigh that makes Beck wince. "What difference would it make to us if you died here or in the elemental plane? The tri-emperors only concern is that we provide them with fully trained primals each year. They don't care in the slightest what happens to you here or how we produce the human weapons for their war." Her voice drops dangerously. “Have you ever wondered what would happen if the elementals decided we aren't capable of sending them worthy students fit for elemental tethers?"

Beck swallows hard enough that I can see his throat bob from where I'm sitting. He shakes his head, leaning back so far in his seat that he might topple over any second.

I have a strict policy of never speaking unless directly called on in classes—being noticed here is rarely a good thing—but I can't stand watching Beck squirm any longer. I clear my throat, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears as the words tumble out.

"They might start going to Red Kingdom's side, instead?"

The words hang in the air long enough for me to regret them.

Sestra whirls, surprise etched across her face. I've been here five weeks, and this might be the first time I've said more than absolutely necessary in front of the class. Just as I feared, the unwanted attention ripples outward—including to the back edge of the room where Malakai watches me with narrowed eyes, his head tilted in assessment. Both of his student soldiers flank him, still as statues but equally attentive now.

My skin crawls under their scrutiny. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have kept my mouth shut.

"Nessa Thorne..." Sestra glides from Beck's desk—which prompts him to finally breathe again and slump forward with visible relief—and approaches me with measured steps. "You are... correct. Surprisingly," she adds under her breath.

Her eyes hold mine for a terrifyingly long moment, dissecting me like a specimen under glass.

"If only your skills in channeling weren't so dismal, I would say your flash of insight shows some actual potential."

The barb stings, but I keep my face carefully blank. She's not wrong. Next to my classmates, my abilities are pathetically underdeveloped. I’ve learned I have to physically touch water or somebody full of water essence to channel it. Considering I can’t participate in channeling class while submerged in water, it has hardly been an advantage.