After class, I quickly make my way over to the admin building.
The moment I enter, I freeze as the living bench tromps right through my path, carrying two giggling kids. A little boy and girl ride the thing like a small horse, apparently having the time of their lives as it runs from place to place.
Bella is waiting for me near the entryway, but she hasn’t spotted me yet.
No, instead her attention is on the kids.
She watches them intently, and for a moment I wonder if they did something to aggitate her.
Then her arm twitches when the girl is nearly thrown from the back after a particularly sharp turn.
Oh my gods, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
She’s watching out for them and trying to act all nonchalant.
I sneak up and loop my arm into her own.
She jumps, but manages to strangle a yelp of surprise before it can escape. The moment her eyes land on me, they narrow into a glare.
“You didn’t have to surprise me like that,” she says. “I almost embarrassed myself.”
I shrug. “I dunno. Would’ve been cute if you did.”
Her cheeks flush a pretty pink, but she doesn’t back down.
“You are incorrigible, you know that?”
I hug her arm a little tighter against my chest.
“You seem to like it,” I say, turning up to meet her gaze with a half smile. “Should I stop?”
Her gaze lingers for a moment before she blinks and turns away.
“No,” she says quietly. “So long as you’re happy, I suppose it’s okay.”
Warmth blooms in my chest.
“I’ll take you up on that, then,” I murmur.
Before she can react, I do a little hop to press a quick kiss to her cheek. Standing up straight as she is, all regal and fancy-like, I have to jump a little to achieve my goal.
But the results are well worth the effort.
She stiffens in place, and even her face is frozen as she tries, and fails, to keep functioning.
Uh-oh. I think I broke her again.
I guide us toward the line before Bella can fully recover. At the end of the line, I spot what can only be the mother of the two children currently terrorizing the bench.
She watches them with the exhausted fondness only a parent could muster. Every time the children laugh, a little smile quirks her lips.
Then she notices me watching, too.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I hope they aren’t bothering you,” she says immediately.
I glance at the kids racing past atop their unwilling steed.
“They seem fine to me,” I say, shrugging.
The woman sighs in relief.
“They’ve been like this all morning.”
“They’re just having a little fun,” I reply. Then I give Bella a little nudge. “My girlfriend thinks they’re adorable, too.”
Bella’s face blossoms.
“How did you—” she starts, then her mouth snaps shut as the woman’s gaze settles on her.
Then, through some heroic effort of will, she offers the woman a pleasant smile and nods.
“They are adorable,” she says, her voice impressively calm despite the fact that her ears are bright red.
The woman beams at us.
“Oh, thank you,” she says. “They’re a handful, but they’re mine. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The conversation drifts from there. She introduces herself as Stella, and talks animatedly about her family with equal parts frustration and fondness.
Apparently her kids can’t sit still for longer than thirty seconds at a time.
And, scandal of all scandals, her husband blames that particular trait on her of all people.
Honestly, it’s rather fun talking to her. It ends sooner than I’d like, as her turn at the desk finally comes. Less than a minute later, she’s wrangling her kids on her way to the second floor.
Then it’s our turn.
Thankfully, all we need to do after mentioning our meeting is show our student ID’s, and then we’re sent all the way up tot he fifth floor.
I decide to take the stairs, since Bella still looks like she’s recovering from being called my girlfriend in public.
The first flight passes in silence.
The second isn’t much better.
By the third, I finally cave.
“Am I going too far?”
Bella nearly misses a step.
“W-what?”
I slow slightly, giving her a serious look.
“Am I pushing too much?” I ask. “Because I can stop if—”
“No!” she blurts, suddenly coming to a full stop.
A heartbeat later, her face somehow becomes even redder.
“I mean—“ she starts, then cuts herself off.
For several seconds, she worries at her lip as she organizes her thoughts.
The entire time, my heart races with panic.
I have been doing too much, haven’t I? She’s going to tell me to stop. She’s going to tell me I went too far, and—
She sighs.
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”
For a moment, I stare at her, totally at a loss. The words bounce around in my head, not clicking with any of my earlier fears at all.
Then I laugh at the whole situation.
“And you think I do?” I ask.
She opens and closes her mouth.
“Well,” she says weakly, “you have been awfully bold lately.”
I quirk a brow at her, still incredulous.
She gestures vaguely.
“The hugging,” she starts. “And this morning, you... you pulled me into bed with you.”
She’s unwilling to meet my gaze as she says it, but the frequent glances as she speaks tells me more than enough.
“The constant reminders that we’re dating,” she continues. “And the, um, kisses.”
When she finishes, her voice is barely a whisper.
I grin.
“Honestly? I’m making it up as I go.”
She glares at me, clear disbelief written across her face.
I hold up my free hand in surrender.
“Seriously. I’ve never done this before either,” I say honestly.
She eyes me for a moment, then some of the tension she’d been holding slips away.
“You seem rather confident for someone making it up.”
I chuckle at that.
“That’s because if I stop to think about it, I’ll lose the nerve.”
She stares at me, her mouth slightly ajar.
Then she laughs.
It starts quiet and slow, but quickly builds into a full-bodied giggle-snort.
Eventually, she calms down enough to actually take the lead herself, guiding us further up the stairs once more. She walks with a purpose, her face set into a mask of determination as she builds herself up to something.
I wait patiently, unwilling to interrupt whatever internal battle she's currently fighting.
"Since you clearly have no idea what you're doing," she begins quietly, "I believe it is only proper for me to take the lead again."
I smirk. “That sounds fun.”
She ignores me.
“As a Princess, I received education regarding diplomacy, etiquette, public appearances, and... expectations.”
I lean forward to peek up at her face.
She continues to stubbornly ignore me, charging through her whole chain of reasoning.
“I am aware that relationships require participation from both parties, so I’ve concluded that it would be appropriate for me to be in charge of—”
Her voice cracks as it shifts several octaves higher.
“—of, uh, organizing our d-dates.”
My heart slams in my chest as my tail swishes happily behind me, stuffed to the brim with my delight. She finally spares me a glance, and her eyes instantly narrow, her previous embarrassment momentarily forgotten.
“Don’t,” she orders.
“I didn’t,” I reply innocently.
“You were going to.”
I mime running a zipper across my lips, but fail completely at hiding my smile.
She looks away and takes a slow breath. Then another three, before finally forcing herself onward.
“On our next free day,” she says, staring intently at the stairs ahead of us, “would you like to go on a second date with me?”
She risks a glance my direction, and apparently finds whatever expression I’m making unamusing.
“Emilia,” she says flatly.
“Sorry.”
“You most certainly are not.”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
She sighs, and I just keep beaming up at her.
Of course, my heart is still too busy trying to tear its way out of my chest like a rabid beast, but I can handle that. Mostly. Sort of.
Ok, not really, but I’m doing it anyway.
“So... is that a yes?” she asks.
The question comes out quiet and full of misplaced worry.
I squeeze her arm.
“Of course it’s a yes, silly.”
Her shoulders sag with relief.
“I’m glad you worked up the courage to ask,” I say. “I don't think it would've ever occurred to me to actually schedule the next one.”
It’s a genuine struggle to keep my tail from thumping into the walls as we move, but I push forward.
“Do you already know where we’re going?”
She hesitates for only a moment.
“Assuming we’re unable to leave Academy grounds, I’ve narrowed it down to four places,” she says, completely serious.
I turn to stare up at her again.
She glances back.
“What?”
“You have a list?”
She looks away, embarrassed, and refuses to answer.
So cute.
The rest of the climb passes in comfortable silence, hand in hand. The entire time, Bella struggles to beat back a smile, and I make it harder by grinning like an idiot the all the way to the fifth floor.
When we arrive, I immediately realize something is off.
Through some odd trick of magic, the hallway is nothing like those on previous floors. Instead of a long stretch with several doors on each side, this one is incredibly short, with only one door at the end.
Of course, the sign above it simply reads “Headmaster”.
The moment we spot it, the warmth of our earlier conversation fades away, replaced by a growing sense of apprehension.
Bella straightens beside me, and I do my best to look at least somewhat responsible. I even lean a little on Charisma.
The instant I knock on the door, it swings open on its own.
Inside, the office looks exactly as I remember.
Papers are scattered across nearly every available surface. Half-finished notes compete for space with books, strange alchemical ingredients, and several potted plants that thrive despite the chaos surrounding them.
Behind the desk sits the source of it all. He doesn’t even look up as we enter, instead continuing to scribble furiously across a sheet of parchment.
“Sit,” he says absently. “I'll be with you in a second.”
Bella and I exchange a glance before moving to the chairs in front of his desk and taking a seat.
Nearly a minute passes before he finally finishes whatever he was doing, and only then does he set down his pen and glance up at us.
“Thank you for coming,” he says. “I just have a few questions and a bit of news for both of you, so there’s no need to worry.”
I let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, I thought he was going to scold me again.
“First, as you were likely already told, neither of you may leave campus until the investigations are concluded,” he says, his gaze immediately shifting to me. “And before you start raising a fuss—”
I wave him off. “Safety this, safety that, I know. I get it.”
His mouth snaps shut as he stares at me in open disbelief for a moment, then shakes it off.
The small smile that Bella offers me makes my acceptance of the restriction well worth it.
Clearing his throat, he continues.
“Then next, Princess Arabella: would you like for me to inform your father of these incidents?”
She quickly shakes her head, her hand clutching her skirt tightly.
“Please don’t. He’ll try to send an entire regiment to act as my guards, and we can’t afford to lose the manpower right now.”
He frowns at her. “Are you certain? He’s bound to hear of it eventually.”
“I’m certain,” she sighs. “I’ll handle it when the time comes.”
He watches her for a moment, then nods.
Turning back to me, he says, “Very well then. That just leaves... ah, yes.”
He turns back to Bella.
“My wife mentioned you were in her Teacraft class. Would you mind allowing her to host you while I speak with Emilia for a moment?”
Bella spares me a glance, and I give her my best puppy eyes, pleading for her to stay and rescue me from whatever the Headmaster is planning to submit me to.
Instead, she gives him a nod.
“I would love to join her for tea. Thank you,” she says.
She stands and gives me a tiny wave, and the instant I return it, she vanishes under a pulse of the Headmaster’s magic.
I have been betrayed. Abandoned. Forsaken.
All for a cup of leafy water.
My nerves are already fraying as I turn back to Headmaster Kophis. I find him watching me with the same level of curiosity he gave me on the first day we met.
“How are you enjoying the Academy?”
My brain stutters for a moment.
Wait, what? No scolding? No crazy rants or revelations?
“Uh,” I start. “It’s good?”
His eyebrow rises.
“Just good?” he asks.
I pull my tail into my lap and fidget with it.
“Very good?”
His eyebrow remains elevated.
I sigh, and try to give a more thorough answer.
“The classes are interesting. The professors are weird. I like Professor Harold and Professor Ritter,” I start. “The other students are nice enough. Mostly, anyways. Vanessa is... she’s something. I don’t know how to feel about her yet.”
For a moment, I swear he’s fighting a smile.
“I already plan to drop a couple of classes, though. Other than that, I’ve learned a lot. Oh, and Extreme Threat Engagement might be my favorite class.”
His eyes narrow.
I quickly continue.
“Academically, of course.”
“Of course,” he murmurs, not buying my bullshit for a second.
Then he leans back in his chair.
“And Weave Theory?”
My eyes widen.
“You knew?”
He scoffs. “Of course I knew.”
“Then... why the pretense?”
He rubs at his forehead with a bone-weary sigh.
“Because Professor Mirel insisted,” he says. “I’m sure you’re aware she can be quite the prankster.”
I snort.
“Regardless, I won’t say I’m surprised you ended up there. The scope of her fate magic really is something else.”
Before I can comment on that, his expression grows serious.
“Now, onto the actual reason I wished to speak with you.”
I close my mouth and worry at my tail just a bit more.
“The Grand Matriarch of Clan Ken recently arrived in the capitol.”
Oh. There it is.
“She’s formally requested a meeting with you.”
My heart stutters, then threatens to stop entirely.