Chapter 41 The Inside Enemy
The academy feels different after Elder Valecrest leaves.
I feel it in the walls Monday morning, the new protective spells humming fresh and sharp in the stone, and underneath all of it, slow and enormous and completely awake now, the dragon's pulse from somewhere far below my feet.
It has not gone back to sleep.
Petra grabs me before first class, pulling me sideways into the alcove beside the notice board with the urgency of someone carrying something that's burning her hands.
"All of it," she demands, eyes wide and sharp. "Right now. I have been patient for twelve hours and I am completely done being patient."
So I tell her.
Not managed or careful, just all of it tumbling out fast and low... the chamber below, the Drevari triggers, Bram's real identity, Sera's coldfire, Elder Valecrest standing at Corvyn's window with his warm dangerous voice and his grey eyes full of something that looked terrifyingly close to fear.
Petra's face moves through the whole story with me. Eyebrows climbing at Bram. Jaw pulling tight at the Drevari. Mouth dropping fully open at the part where the dragon stirred and my hand lit up the dark chamber like a lantern.
Then I get to Sera.
Her mouth closes.
"She's on our side now," Petra says flatly.
"She says she is."
Petra looks at me with narrowed eyes and her head tilted at the specific angle that means she is deciding something. "You don't believe her."
"I believe she chose not to move when Elder Valecrest expected her to," I say carefully. "I believe that cost her something. I don't believe that makes her safe."
Two seconds of silence.
"Smart," Petra mutters. "Good. Don't trust her." Then, shifting gears with the speed only Petra can manage, "And you and Rhydan. What is that? Specifically. Right now."
Heat crawls up the back of my neck immediately.
"We're working together on the situation."
"Veyra."
"The bond and the Drevari and Elder Valecrest and approximately seventeen other urgent..."
"Veyra." Firmer.
I look at the wall.
"He held my hand," I finally mutter. "In Corvyn's office. Briefly."
The sound Petra makes is not a scream and not a laugh and is extremely, specifically Petra, and I shush her so hard she physically flinches, pulling herself back together with visible effort, straightening her jacket, composing her face into something dignified that lasts approximately three seconds.
"Finally," she breathes.
"It was brief..."
"He does not hold hands," she says firmly. "Cassian told me. Rhydan Valecrest does not do casual physical contact with anyone ever." She points directly at my face. "That was a declaration."
I know that.
I have known that since the moment it happened and I have been very carefully not examining it.
"First class," I say. "We're late."
She lets me redirect her because she loves me and she can see the colour in my face and she knows when she's won.
Ability Theory is half empty.
Several students pulled home after the magical shield crisis, and Professor Elara moves through the morning theory with brisk focused energy, not acknowledging the gaps, not letting the Monday feel like aftermath.
I take my usual seat.
Two rows back, Rhydan settles into his, and I feel him the moment he does, that specific warmth in my right palm that has become as reliable as breathing, and I don't look back and I don't need to.
Zael drops into the seat beside me.
"You felt the dragon on Sunday morning?" he murmurs.
"Everyone felt it," I reply quietly.
"Not the way you felt it." He glances sideways at me, steady and unhurried. "The anchoring... When you're ready, I want to be there."
I look at him properly. "Why?"
"Because my great-uncle's tamer had nobody who understood what she was walking into," he says simply. "I don't want that to happen again."
Something warm moves through my chest.
Behind me, the warmth in my hand spikes by one deliberate degree.
Not dramatically. Just enough. The specific degree of Rhydan registering exactly what is happening two rows ahead of him and containing his response with the iron control that is as much part of him as the silver in his eyes and the scales along his forearms.
He felt Zael sit down.
He felt my warmth respond.
And he is sitting back there doing absolutely nothing about it because Rhydan Valecrest does not perform jealousy.
He just feels it, hot and quiet and entirely contained, and I feel it through the bond like a hand pressed flat against warm glass.
I keep my eyes on Professor Elara.
I should not find that as satisfying as I do.
After class Sera finds me in the corridor.
Not dramatically. She simply appears beside me, falling into step with the ease of someone who planned the timing precisely, and her smile is warm and open and tells me absolutely nothing true about what is happening underneath it.
"Walk with me," she suggests pleasantly.
I fall into step because information is always worth the discomfort of its source.
"Elder Valecrest contacted me this morning," she murmurs, leaning slightly closer as we walk. "He wants a private meeting. Off grounds. Just us."
I keep my face open and thoughtful. "What does he want?"
"He thinks yesterday was a performance." A small pause. "For Corvyn's benefit. He thinks I'm still his."
"Are you going to meet him?" I ask carefully.
She glances at me sideways and what crosses her face could be read as conflicted and could be read as something else entirely by someone watching for it.
I am always watching.
"I think I should," she says. "I could find out exactly what he's planning. Timelines. Who else he's brought in." Another pause, perfectly weighted. "If you trust me to."
There it is.
The offer wrapped around the ask, wrapped around the appearance of honesty.
"Let me talk to Rhydan," I reply.
She nods, satisfied, and peels away at the next junction with a small warm smile that means absolutely nothing...
I know it means something...
And I watch her go.