Chapter 102 102- Never Let Hoard Envy Ruin Your Self-Esteem
LEXI
Monday morning I’m up bright and early, dressed and ready for classes. The Academy has provided me with a lightweight, flowing white sundress with a golden belt and simple sandals. The fabric is soft and comfortable, the skirt swaying around my legs when I move. White and gold. I kind of suspect the Academy did that on purpose. The white is almost exactly the same shade as my coat when I shifted, and the gold accents, the belt, the trim, even the straps on the sandals, match the colour of my horn and hooves almost perfectly. It’s not subtle. If anything, it feels like the Academy is deliberately making it obvious. I suppose if I were being careful, I would want everyone to forget what I am. Try to blend in as much as possible. But that clearly isn’t an option anymore. Everyone already knows. There are pictures of me all over the SCRI app. My name, my face, my shift. Trying to pretend otherwise would just make it look like I was hiding. So maybe the next best option is just… Owning it. Make it clear that I’m not trying to sneak around or pretend it didn’t happen. So I guess if I can’t make people forget… Then maybe the next best option is not acting like I have something to hide. Stand tall. Pretend I’m not nervous. Pretend I’m not worried about walking back into a classroom where everyone saw me turn into a unicorn. Maybe if I act confident long enough, it’ll become real. Maybe…
I pace my room anxiously, my sandals making soft tapping sounds against the floor as I go back and forth. I’m super nervous about going back to Potions. And Shifter Basics. Actually, Shifter Basics might be worse. Everyone in that class already knows what they are. They’ve had their whole lives to understand their shifts and instincts and magic. Meanwhile I accidentally turned into a mythical creature in the middle of class and then passed out for seventeen hours. Great start. Basic Spellcasting will probably be boring, but hopefully not too bad. At least if I can make it to the end of the day I’ll be rewarded with Medicinal Magic and my tutoring with Layla. Just thinking about that makes me feel a little better. I really can’t wait to spend some time with her. She always manages to give me a really balanced perspective on things. Calm and thoughtful and practical in a way that makes everything seem less overwhelming. But it’s not just that. Medicinal Magic is probably the one place I feel the most confident right now. The one place where I don’t feel like I’m fumbling around trying to catch up with everyone else. In those lessons I actually feel capable. Like I might be good at something. A knock sounds on my door and I hurry over to open it. Blake is standing there in the hallway. The moment the door opens he smiles warmly and pulls me into a hug without saying anything. It’s brief, but grounding. Then he steps back and wordlessly hands me something. A gold bangle bracelet. I raise an eyebrow and hold it up between us. I’m already wearing the pink diamond bracelet, necklace, and earrings he gave me before. Blake just smirks. Without asking, he takes my wrist and slips the new bracelet into place beside the one with the diamonds. I suppose there’s no reason I can’t wear two bracelets. They match well enough. Gold and pink diamonds actually look pretty nice together. But that’s not really the point. I’m still not sure why he keeps giving me things. He seems genuinely happy whenever I accept the gifts from him, and I know they have some kind of meaning or significance that I don’t quite understand yet. But he keeps bringing more. Which means accepting them clearly isn’t the only thing he wants. If it was about marking me somehow, claiming me in some dragon-ish way… Realistically one item would have been enough. If it was about making me happy… Well I’m fairly certain I’ve already made it clear that he doesn’t need to buy me things to do that. So why does he keep doing it? I can’t help thinking that every time he gives me something, there’s something he wants from me in return. I just have absolutely no idea what that something is. And that makes it hard to know what to do about it. It would probably be a lot easier if he would just tell me outright. But every time I try to ask about it, he gets weirdly evasive. Like he’s guarding the answer. Which means until he actually tells me what it is he wants… I can’t give it to him. Or decide if I even want to give it to him.
“Just take it.” He says softly, his thumb rubbing gently over the back of my hand. The touch is warm and absentminded, like he’s soothing me without even thinking about it. I sigh.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re giving it to me this time?” I ask.
“I want you to have it.” He replies. His voice is gentle. Almost coaxing. It’s not a lie, but there is definitely more to it.
“If you want others I can get them for you. You could pick something out.” He suggests. There’s something almost seductive in the way he says it. Like the idea of giving me things genuinely pleases him.
“Thanks but no thanks.” I reply quickly.
“They’re yours. And you’ve already been way too generous as it is.” I point out as I gesture vaguely at myself.
“I’m pretty sure everything I’m wearing is enough to get me mugged.” I add. Then I pause because suddenly a thought occurs to me.
“Which would be more of a concern if just being me wasn’t already enough to get me mugged at this point.” I conclude. I frown slightly. Huh. That’s… Weird. At some point I apparently became more financially valuable than a bunch of fancy diamonds and jewels. That’s a strange thing to realise about yourself. Blake gives a reluctant nod.
“Alright then. But if you change your mind… Let me know.” He says. Then he gestures toward the hallway.
“Now, let’s get you fed and to class.”
After breakfast, Blake walks me to Potions class. I’m not exactly sure what his plan is. I know he wants to stay nearby and make sure I’m safe, and to be honest… I want him here too. Just maybe not HERE here. Because the moment we step into the classroom, everything changes. Conversations stop mid-sentence. Several students stiffen like someone just yelled freeze. Chairs scrape softly as people sit up straighter. A few students glance at Blake, then immediately look away again. The room goes completely quiet. Awkward quiet. The kind where everyone is pretending not to stare while also very clearly staring. I wouldn’t mind so much if it was just the students. But Professor Matthews won’t look at me either. He’s standing at the front of the room talking, but his voice is low and rushed, like he’s trying to get through the explanation as quickly as possible without drawing attention to himself.
“…And you’ll combine the stabiliser before… Before adding the…” He trails off and clears his throat, glancing anywhere but at our side of the room. Right. So he really is kind of terrified of Blake. I can understand both points of view, honestly. If I were a professor and one of my students had just violently beaten another student half to death last week, I might also be a little nervous about him sitting in my classroom glaring at everyone. Especially if that same student had threatened me in the past. But still, it’s frustrating. I’m here because I want things to start going back to normal. And right now this definitely does not feel normal. Blake must notice my frustration, because a moment later he pushes his chair back and stands. The sound is quiet. But in the silent room it might as well be thunder. Everyone freezes. Professor Matthews stops talking mid-sentence. I sit there anxiously, waiting to see what Blake is going to do. Please don’t start something, I think desperately. I really just want to get through class today without it turning into another incident. If Blake causes a scene now, things are NEVER going to go back to normal. Blake glances down at me. Our eyes meet. He must see the pleading look on my face, because after a moment he exhales slowly and gives a small, resigned nod. Then he turns and walks toward the door. The entire class watches him go. He opens the door and steps out into the hallway. Relief immediately spreads through the room like someone released a pressure valve. But before he fully leaves, Blake pauses in the doorway and looks back at Professor Matthews.
“This door stays open.” He says. His voice is calm. Firm. Not threatening exactly… But definitely not a suggestion. Professor Matthews nods immediately.
“O-of course.” He agrees. Blake gives one last glance toward me before stepping into the hall. From where I’m sitting, I can still see him through the open doorway. He’s leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded, positioned so he has a clear line of sight into the classroom. Also… He has a chair. A chair that absolutely was not there before when we walked in. The Academy must have provided it. I swear sometimes it feels like the building is quietly cooperating with him. Honestly, the two of them seem to be getting along better lately. Maybe because they agree on one very important thing. Keeping me safe. Which is… Actually kind of cute. And luckily Blake’s plan works. With him out of the room and mostly out of sight, Professor Matthews visibly relaxes. His shoulders drop slightly and he clears his throat before starting the lesson again, this time in a much more normal voice.
“Right. As I was saying…” He continues. Students start moving again. Not normally exactly, but close enough. This might actually work. I feel a little bad though. Blake is just sitting out there in the hallway waiting for me. Maybe he should have a book or something? Yeah. That’s something to remember next time. We still haven’t actually figured out how he’s going to deal with his own classes either. This arrangement definitely isn’t sustainable long term. Maybe we need to swap days or something. Half my classes and half his. Once he’s actually allowed to attend classes again, that is. Wait… Is he still suspended right now? I’ve completely lost track. Ugh. There are way too many things to think about. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, I just want to focus on Potions. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.