their thorns and laugh as they left you heartbroken, leaving their blissful prettiness out of reach.
It was a sick metaphor for Ethan and I. What we had seemed perfect, yet fragile. So pristine to look at from a distance, but easily broken if you made the wrong move— like Stefan and Delmare. She was so worried about breaking what she could have she ran from the beauty before the thorns could cause her to bleed.
But not I. Ethan was worth the risk. No matter the circumstances, I viewed him as my king— and I would be his queen.
The relentless charging into the dark night against something you knew— or hoped— would never end... that was the beauty of being with someone you longed for, but couldn’t really have.
Not without secrets getting in the way.
“Now focus, ladies. Enchanting is all about putting your illusion magic into objects to serve a greater purpose beyond what it was made to do.”
Professor Calliope spoke over the class as we huddled two by two around the round desks situated in the Enchanting classroom. I listened carefully as Calliope lectured. “No doubt you have wondered why I asked you to create a poem, and what that has to do with enchanting.”
Calliope crossed her hands in front of her body. “As you all know, illusion magic is about intention; projecting your will onto energy and bending it to your desires. Poetry is a beautiful way of establishing and creating feeling, and feelings are the framework of how fae magic is incorporated into this world. Your emotions become your reality, and those emotions can reflect on the world around you. Today, we’ll be working on taking the poems you wrote and putting their emotion into an object of your choosing. Please choose an item from the box and get to work.”
The girls hustled to a chest, which was stockpiled with various items. I saw clothing, trinkets, books, and bottles piled within the chest. I got shoved to the back of the line— many people cut in front of me. Some even pushed me out of the way to get to the best items first. I fell down, and nearly got stepped on. Kiara pulled me to my feet before I could get hurt.
“Out of the way, cheater,” Morgan snapped at me. “Leave the enchanting to the real sorceresses.”
“Behave yourself,” Calliope told Morgan. “I won’t tolerate rudeness in my classroom.”
“She’s been shunned by the Circle for what she did in the Contest. She shouldn’t even be in this class,” Morgan said as she pointed at me.
“That’s for the headmistress to decide, not you,” Calliope replied. “Focus on your own studies.”
Morgan sneered at me, and a couple of girls followed her lead. I tried to shake off their cruel stares, but it was hard. I knew people didn’t respect me because I’d cheated in the Contest, but this was a bit ridiculous. These bitches literally acted like they were above me, and it was getting old.
Once I got to the chest, there was only one item left. I drew out a thin white mask. It looked old— the threads on it were wearing, and the lace was coming undone. It’d probably been worn in a masquerade years ago, and forgotten about since. It was hardly the best of the bunch.
I sat at our small table and concentrated. I read my poem over again and tried to choose an intention for it, but I didn’t know where to start. There were so many emotions in the poem— anger, pain, desperation— and none of them seemed to fit the mask. I didn’t want to enchant this mask with a spell of agony and cause grief to anyone wearing it. What good would that do?
Kiara had already gotten her enchantment. She’d chosen a medallion from the chest and had infused it with a positivity spell, as her poem was a short haiku about happiness instead of dark and depressing like mine.
I should’ve written something easy and not taken this project so seriously. My eyebrows knitted together, and Kiara sensed my frustration. “Something bothering you?”
“This fucking enchantment isn’t working!” I raged. I sighed and tried to take a deep breath, though it came more like a gulp. “I’m shit with magic.”
“You are not. You’re capable of getting this.” Kiara held out her medallion. “Here. Hold this for a second and tell me if it helps.”
When I ran my fingers over the medallion, a burst of optimism rolled through me. I knew it was just