Chapter 108 108- Do Not Joke About Princess Kidnapping At Dinner
LEXI
The rest of my week settles into a kind of rhythm. Not a perfect one, not effortless, but… Steady. Predictable in a way that feels almost comforting after everything that’s happened. Ellorie sits with me in the classes we share, usually slipping into the seat beside me like she’s still half-expecting someone to tell her she shouldn’t be there. Like she’s waiting for someone to notice and object. But no one does. No one says anything. And slowly, day by day, that hesitation starts to fade just a little. Blake hovers nearby,. sometimes literally, sometimes just within eyesight. but always present. I can feel it even when I’m not looking at him. That constant awareness that he’s there, watching, making sure nothing happens. It should probably feel suffocating. It doesn’t. It just feels… Safe. At dinner, Ellorie usually joins us too. The three of us sitting at the same table is starting to feel… Normal. Or at least, more normal. Like something that belongs in my life instead of something I had to fight for. I still do most of the talking. Actually, I do almost all of it. I ask questions, fill silences, redirect when things get awkward, which is often. I bounce between topics, pull Blake in when he starts to withdraw, gently nudge Ellorie when she goes quiet. It’s a bit like juggling, keeping everything moving so nothing stalls completely. I’m fairly sure that if I wasn’t there, Blake and Ellorie just… Wouldn’t speak at all. Not out of hostility exactly. There’s no tension like that. It’s more like they exist on completely different wavelengths, and neither of them is particularly interested in bridging that gap. Blake doesn’t see the point. Ellorie doesn’t feel brave enough. So they both default to silence. Still… It’s getting better. Ellorie talks pretty normally around him now. She doesn’t whisper or avoid looking at him the whole time. She doesn’t flinch every time he shifts or moves or looks in her direction. She still watches him sometimes, like she’s trying to figure him out, but it’s quieter now. Less fear. More curiosity. And Blake… Well, Blake tolerates her. Which, for him, is actually a lot. He isn’t trying to scare her away. He doesn’t interrupt or shut her down. He lets her sit there, lets her talk to me, lets her exist in his space without making it a problem. One night he even grabbed dessert for her without being asked, setting it down in front of her like it wasn’t a big deal. She looked so shocked she almost didn’t eat it. For Blake, that’s basically glowing approval. Her family lives a few hours away, so she stays at the Academy over the weekend. Which means Saturday we’re planning to spend time in the library together. I’m actually kind of excited about it. It feels… Normal. Like something a regular student would do with a friend. I suspect Ellorie will be a much more enthusiastic study partner than Blake. Not that Blake won’t come. Of course he’s coming. That was never even a question. But at least this time he seems completely fine with the idea that he can sit nearby and do his own thing instead of pretending to study with me while actually sketching or watching me instead of the page. He’s already admitted he prefers that arrangement, and honestly… So do I. It feels less forced. Less like we’re trying to pretend everything is something it’s not. So… Yeah. Everything is good. Actually… Everything is great. No one at the Academy has been bothering me. Not really. Not anymore. The staring has mostly died down, or at least it’s less intense. People still look, but it’s more curiosity than hostility now. Less sharp. Less personal. Classes feel manageable. I’m keeping up. I understand what’s going on. I’m not constantly waiting for something to go wrong. I’ve even started to feel comfortable here. That still feels strange to admit. Blake and I worked out a plan for next week too, now that his suspension is almost over. We’re going to alternate days for classes. Since we share two of them anyway, it really just means I’ll miss potions and medicinal magic sometimes while he attends defence and flying. It’s not ideal. But it’s workable. I still have my tutoring for medicinal magic, so missing a few classes shouldn’t matter too much. Potions might be harder to keep up with, but we spoke to Professor Matthews and he actually seemed helpful. He said he can give me extra work to make up for it, reading, written assignments, even scheduling practical catch-ups in the evenings if I fall behind. It’s… Surprisingly reasonable. Like people are actually trying to help me succeed instead of just watching to see if I fail.
And then there’s my parents. Mum told me they’ve found someone to put wards on the house. Proper ones. Not just basic protections, but layered, reinforced ones. And they’re looking into protective amulets and other safety measures too, things they can carry with them when they leave the house, things that might give them a chance if something actually happens. It doesn’t solve everything. But it helps. So really… Everything is looking up. Everything is working out. Which is why it feels so stupid that the only real problem I have right now is sleep. Or… Not even sleep exactly. I’m sleeping. A lot, actually. I just… Wish I wasn’t. Because every time I close my eyes, it’s the same thing. Running. Always running. My lungs burning, my legs heavy, like I’m moving through something thick and slow while everything behind me is faster. Always faster. Being chased. The sound of footsteps behind me that never quite get closer, but never go away either. Always there. Always just behind me, no matter how far I go. The feeling of being watched. Hunted. And then the worst part. Hands. Grabbing me. Holding me down. Too many of them. And that sound. That horrible, scraping, vibrating sound as something presses against my horn. I can feel it. The pressure. The vibration. The way it grinds, like it’s trying to cut through something that doesn’t want to give. Like it’s forcing its way in. I wake up every time before anything actually happens. Before it can go further. But it doesn’t matter. Because I can still feel it when I wake up. That phantom sensation lingering, crawling under my skin, sitting heavy in my skull like it’s still there. Like it’s real. Like it was real. And I lie there in the dark, heart racing, trying to remind myself that I’m safe. That I’m in my room. That no one is there. But it doesn’t quite stick. Because for those few seconds after I wake up… It feels like they almost were. And I can tell you right now, Waking up after dreaming about being sawed apart… Feeling that horrible scraping, vibrating sensation still echoing in your head. Not fun.
I wake up Saturday morning with a headache. Not a terrible one, not enough to stop me from getting up, but enough to make everything feel a little dull and heavy. My head throbs faintly behind my eyes, and there’s that gross, foggy feeling like I didn’t quite sleep properly. Which… I didn’t. I woke up twice during the night, both times dragged out of those stupid nightmares. The kind where you wake up suddenly and your heart is racing and you don’t even know where you are for a second. The kind where it takes just a little too long to convince yourself that you’re safe. Ugh. I scrub a hand over my face and groan quietly. I did ask Layla if I could just… Heal it. Fix the headache, fix the exhaustion, make it all go away. But apparently that’s not how it works. She said the actual problem is fatigue, not injury, and healing would just drain more energy. So I’d feel better for a few minutes, sure, but then I’d crash even harder later. Which is… Incredibly unfair. So now I’m stuck being tired like a normal person. Rude. Maybe I should ask Professor Matthews if there are potions that help with sleep. That feels like something that should exist, right? Or maybe something that stops nightmares specifically. That would be ideal. Or maybe I just need to learn to meditate. Or drink less coffee. Or more coffee? I sigh and roll onto my side, staring vaguely at my room as I try to wake up properly. I’ll figure it out. I have to. Because I really don’t want to keep having those dreams. I’m pretty sure Blake knows my sleep hasn’t been great. I haven’t exactly been subtle about it. I’ve been sleeping in as late as I can to make up for the nights, and even then I still feel tired. He hasn’t said anything directly, but he’s been watching me a little more closely. Since it’s Saturday, I let myself stay in bed for a few extra minutes before finally sitting up. It’s nearly time for breakfast anyway. I glance over at my bedside table, and blink. There’s a cup of coffee sitting there, still warm, and a small bottle of eye drops beside it. For a second I just stare at it. Then I grin.
“Oh my gosh, I love you.” I announce to the Academy. The lights brighten slightly in response, just a soft shift, but enough that I immediately interpret it as pleased. I laugh quietly.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re the best.” I agree. I reach over and grab the coffee first, taking a long sip. It’s exactly how I like it, warm, strong, with entirely too much sugar to make the coffee taste tolerable. It’s just enough to take the edge off the headache almost immediately. I sigh softly in relief, then grab the eye drops and tilt my head back, blinking a few times after. My eyes stop burning almost instantly. Okay. That helps a lot. I feel… Not perfect. But definitely better. More awake. More like myself. I swing my legs out of bed, already feeling a little more motivated. Today is a good day. Breakfast with Blake, then the library with Ellorie. A normal day. A good day. And honestly? I’m really looking forward to it.