As I was in my third existential crisis of the day—Luna came up from behind me. She clasped my hands with that mischievous glint in her eyes—the one that usually meant "I have a secret" or "I just did something I legally cannot explain right now."
"I guess that makes two of us!" she said, practically bouncing on her heels.
So she was eavesdropping? This girl...
"You don't mean to say…" I blinked. Slowly. Suspiciously.
"Oh, but I do," she chirped. "Father pulled some strings. Apparently, he thinks I've been too idle lately. Can you believe that? Me! Idle!"
I could, actually. Vividly. She once tried to teach her pet falcon to peck out traitors on command.
"You're going to the Royal Academy too?" I asked, trying to sound neutral and not like someone who had just realized their last shred of peace had been set on fire.
Luna beamed. "Isn't it exciting?! We'll be roommates! Maybe! Or dorm neighbors at least. Imagine the chaos—oh, and the gowns. Academy events are legendary."
I stared at her, brain buffering. On one hand, emotional support. On the other hand, emotional hazard.
"Luna," I said carefully, "you do know this isn't some noble finishing school with tiaras and poetry readings, right? They'll make us duel. Strategize. Debate with people whose favorite pastime is ruining your life."
She waved a hand. "Yes, yes. Politics, posture, swordplay, deception. I've already started practicing my 'backhanded compliment with a sweet smile' routine. Want to hear it?"
"No. Absolutely not."
"Too bad. I'm going to use it on the first heir who calls you clumsy."
I groaned. Loudly. "You mean after the prince incident makes its way into every drawing room in Aurelis?"
Luna winked. "Elisha, my dear. You fell into his arms. Do you know how many nobles would pay to stage that exact scenario?"
I made a dramatic attempt to walk into the nearest wall. She steered me gently back toward the refreshment table instead.
As I grabbed another glass of the non-alcoholic red stuff—seriously, what was this?—my thoughts circled like vultures. The Royal Academy. Five weeks. Politics. Swordplay. Future rivals. The prince.
And now, Luna.
I sighed, already exhausted at the idea of all the effort I'd soon be pretending wasn't effort.
Luna clinked her glass against mine. "To new beginnings," she said cheerfully.
"To future migraines," I muttered, and drank.
...
I must've zoned out, because when I blinked again, the estate was rising in the distance—stone walls, pointed towers, and a lot of looming. It had always looked grand before, but now it just looked... final. Like the end of something.
I leaned my head against the window, the cool glass grounding me. For a second, I didn't say anything. Neither did my brothers.
Which is how I knew something was wrong.
"Are you sulking again?" Leonard asked, voice too casual to be concerned but too focused not to be.
"I don't sulk," I muttered, still watching the road.
"Right, my mistake. You're brooding. Very regal of you."
Alexander finally closed his book—which, given that it's Alexander, is the equivalent of someone sounding an emergency bell.
"Elisha," he said, his tone gentle enough that I immediately braced for something serious. "You've been quiet."
"I'm always quiet," I replied automatically.
Leonard snorted. "You? You have opinions about the texture of napkins."
"They were offensively rough," I shot back. "And you're dodging the real topic."
Alexander gave Leonard a warning look, then turned back to me. "You're nervous about the Academy."
I hesitated, then nodded once. "Wouldn't you be?"
Alexander didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked out the window like he was weighing his thoughts against the horizon. "Yes. I was."
Leonard raised an eyebrow. "You were nervous? That's new. I thought you entered the Academy at thirteen already fluent in sarcasm and swordplay."
Alexander didn't smile, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. "It's not an easy place. Even for those prepared."
I sighed and looked down at my hands. "So what does that mean for someone like me?"
"You'll adapt," Alexander said firmly. "You're sharper than most girls your age. Smarter than many of the nobles twice your age. And far more aware than you let on."
That was… oddly encouraging. Suspiciously so.
Leonard leaned back with a grin. "What he means is, you'll be fine. As long as you don't trip into royalty again."
I groaned, shoving his leg with my foot. "Let it die already."
"Never. It's all I have. Let me have this." He groaned, rubbing the spot I had hit him on.
Alexander sighed, probably regretting every life decision that had led him to this carriage.
Still, I felt a little better.
Maybe it was the banter. Or maybe it was the rare, genuine encouragement from my emotionally constipated eldest brother. Either way, I sat up straighter.
The estate gates opened as we approached, and I watched the grounds unfold—stone paths, rows of manicured trees, fountains that were somehow always cold no matter the season.
This was my home now.
But in five weeks, I'd be somewhere entirely different. Somewhere dangerous. Exciting. Terrifying.
I just had to survive until then.
We stepped out one by one, and before my foot hit the second step, a blur of energy collided with me.
"Eli!"
Julian, our youngest brother, all limbs and enthusiasm, threw his arms around mine. His brown curls bounced as he looked up at me with wide eyes. "You're back! Did you bring me anything?"
I laughed, ruffling his hair. "I was a little busy, but next time, I promise."
He pouted—he was very good at pouting—but perked up again immediately. "You have to tell me everything! Did you see the capital? Were the people nice? Did you fight anyone?"
"No fights this time," I said, smirking.
Leonard crouched beside him, stage-whispering, "But she did trip into the Crown Prince's arms."
Julian gasped, scandalized. "Really?!"
"Leonard!" I smacked his arm.
Julian burst into giggles and latched onto my hand. "Come on! I want to hear everything!"
As he dragged me toward the estate, my feet moved on their own. The familiar stone beneath them, the echo of laughter in the courtyard, the comforting weight of home. For a moment, I let it all settle around me.
There was still time before the Academy.
For now. That was enough.