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“I’ll never forget it.”

We burst out laughing, beaming at each other.

“I suppose it’s terribly heartless to be laughing at the death of a teacher,” I whispered, putting a hand to my mouth. Part of me still hadn’t taken it in. That Nyxaris had actually killed someone. For me.

“Are you kidding? I don’t think Hassan deserves any of your civility or sympathy after leading you straight into the jaws of that snake Viktor.” Medra scoffed. “If anyone was heartless, Florence, it was her. Besides, I thought we were talking about Regan!”

I stared at her for a moment. Then we erupted in laughter again. Finally, the sides of our faces sore from smiling, we calmed down. Medra grabbed my bag from where I’d dropped it, hauling it across the room with a grunt of effort.

“I see you packed light,” she joked.

I blushed. “I brought back … well, everything.”

She looked at me, her eyes soft. “So you’re back for good, then?”

I nodded, then knelt down so Neville could jump out of my arms. He padded straight over to a bowl of water Medra had left on the floor for him. Apparently she’d still been receiving fluffin visits.

“I mean, it’s all right if you aren’t,” she said quickly. “You can stay one night, see how you feel. I know being around highbloods all day is a lot. If being closer to your mother is more reassuring, I’ll understand. I—”

“Medra,” I interrupted. “I’m back. If you’ll have me back.”

She bit her lip, then nodded eagerly. “Of course. I’ve missed you so much. This place isn’t the same without you.”

I glanced around the room, looking to see if she’d made any changes. Everything seemed much the same. Except … “Is that Blake’s shirt?” A white button-up hung over the back of an armchair.

“Um, no. I mean …” Medra blushed. “I guess he left it here, and I haven’t given it back yet.”

“Oh, Bloodmaiden,” I whispered in delight. “Don’t tell me you smell it at night when he’s not around.”

“Florence!” she shrieked. “How dare you. Also, how did you know that?”

I shrugged. “I’ve read a lot of romance books, remember? Typical girl-in-love behavior … Oh, I’m sorry, Medra. I didn’t mean …”

She’d frozen, her eyes wide. Like a moth caught in a flame. “It’s … all right.”

“I didn’t mean to cross a line.” How could I have said something so stupid? My face was red. “Maybe I should go.”

“Don’t be absurd!” She looped her arm through mine, then leaned down to kiss Neville on the head. “You’re my best friend. If anyone is allowed to tease me, it’s you. I’m just being silly. It’s just … That word. It’s such a heavy one, you know? And we … Blake’s never … I’ve never.” She stopped. “I mean, I don’t know what I feel for him.” She looked at me, helplessly. “I guess I don’t hate him anymore, though.”

I giggled. “I mean, you wear his shirt, so I guess not.”

She sniffed. “Speaking of scents, you smell like a dragon. How was your first ride?”

“I do not,” I said, horrified, lowering my nose to smell my sweater. “Do I?”

“It’s not a bad smell,” she assured me. “Smoke and scales. A little like the sea. I’ve never figured out exactly what Nyxaris eats. A lot of fish, maybe a few sheep?”

“He steals sheep?” I said, horrified.

Medra snickered. “Well, I doubt he pays for them first. Can you imagine?”

We fell onto her bed side by side, howling at the image of Nyxaris offering a purse full of coins to a terrified-looking farmer.

“I suppose not.” I hiccupped. “He’s r-rather … intimidating, Medra.”

She sobered. “He is, isn’t he? I was afraid he’d kill me more than once.” She saw the look on my face and quickly added, “But he won’t hurt you, Florence. I’m sure of it.”

I sat up, drawing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. Neville was sitting on one of the desks by the window, licking himself like a cat, his ears perked up as if he was listening to every word we said. For a moment, I sat waiting, then realized Nyxaris had taken my complaint seriously—he wouldn’t be confirming or denying what Medra had just said.