Page 132 of The Amber Sunburst

“Hi, Kleia.”

Theokleia doesn’t smile at him. She shakes her head and scoffs instead.

“Are you stupid?” she asks. “Or are you just really, really arrogant?”

The escalation is so abrupt that Zeno takes a step backwards in surprise—she skipped shock, skipped questions, and went straight for the throat. “What do you mean?”

She gestures to his violin. “I mean, you’re just walking around with that thing? If it was anyone but me here right now, you would be expelled. Branded too, probably.”

“Kleia, I⁠—”

“No, listen, Zeno,” she starts, and he can tell this is no sudden outburst; it has been brewing for a long time. “You and your friends are reckless. You think you hide your secrets so well, but the only reason you haven’t been found out yet is because no one is looking close enough. A second glance would show them.”

“I know I shouldn’t have it with me. I usually hide it, I was⁠—”

“The violin is not the only thing I’m talking about.”

What?

“I’m talking about whatever it is you guys do when you’re all whispering to each other; it’s not hard to see that you’re planning something, and if I cared enough to find out what it was I could have done it by now.”

He stiffens and the panic only goes deeper, out from his bones and into his heart. Have they really been this obvious?

“I’m talking about that Priestess that you and your friends hang around with like she’s allowed to be here all of the time. If she gets caught, she will be punished, but you don’t even think about that, do you?”

He hadn’t considered it.

“I’m talking about Eudoxia.”

Zeno’s entire body tenses like he’s touched a live wire. “What did you just call Eudoxos?”

“I called her Eudoxia.”

“How do you know that?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You are not as subtle as you think. And you’re lucky that no one else here is as observant as I am.”

He wants to ask more about that but he’s stuck on Eudoxia. “But you flirt with her all the time.”

“You think I’d flirt with a man?”

Well, fair point.

“I’m not going to go to the Guardians, okay? I don’t care what you get up to. But I can’t stand stupidity. And you guys are the textbook definition. You are endangering yourselves so much because you’re being so stupid. I mean, honestly, is that violin really worth what would happen to you, your friends, your father if you get caught?”

Yes, he almost responds. It’s so selfish—it’s terrible and awful and completely unlike him. But this is his one thing. He doesn’t take, he only gives—except for this one thing.

“That’s physical evidence. You do know that, right? It’s a liability. It’s the stupidest part of all of this. Because you don’t need that thing, Zeno. At least your friends need to hide what they’re hiding, but you could throw it out today and be done with it and nothing bad would happen.”

Zeno can’t respond. He doesn’t know what he would say if he tried. Because he has no excuses for this.

“Goodnight,” Theokleia finally says. “I do hope you get your priorities straight because I’d hate to see your crew branded and kicked to the curb.”

She enters her room and shuts the door with a finality he can feel in his chest.

Zeno doesn’t move.

He shouldn’t need to think about this. He should break the violin over his knee and throw it out the window. But he can’t. He can’t do it. He hates himself for this, he hates and hates because he’s so selfish it’s— and he’s⁠—