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Stonefist had been evicted from her former classroom, forced into an older part of the school. But after too many blightborn students had come down with coughs and other illnesses from the mildew and mold in the decrepit classroom she’d been moved to, the dwarven instructor had had enough. She’d made a deal with Professor Sankara, arranging to use the outdoor training courtyard whenever it was free. I didn’t think the headmistress knew about it, otherwise she probably would have put a stop to their little arrangement.

Meanwhile, Professor Stonefist’s original classroom sat empty, as far as anyone knew—the school had moved her for absolutely no reason. No reason except for the fact that she was a blightborn instructor teaching blightborn pupils.

Setting my jaw, I reached for another arrow. The old training longbow felt natural in my hands, the string settling against the callus on my knuckle. I’d quickly learned hand-to-hand combat was not my forte. Even Medra’s patient coaching hadn’t changed that. But when they’d put a bow in my hand? The world had faded away, narrowing to a clear steady line: my eye, the arrow, the target.

Whoosh. Thwack. Another arrow hit, slightly offcenter this time.

I frowned. Still, it wasn’t as if I was exactly an expert archer yet.

“Adjust your hips,” Professor Stonefist bellowed.

She reminded me of Nyxaris. I grimaced but nodded and did as she said, shifting my body, then wiping at the sheen of sweat off my forehead with the back of my arm. I’d lost track of how long I’d been here. I’d warmed up first with at least an hour of stretches and laps. The old Florence hated running laps. The new Florence loathed laps with a passion but did them anyway. The extra conditioning paid off when I rode Nyxaris. My thighs no longer screamed in quite the same way by the time I dismounted.

Swoosh. Smack. My arrow flew wildly off target, and I grumbled. I was distracted, and it was easy to figure out the reason. Tonight was the engagement ball. The thought was at the edge of my mind, constantly intruding. How had it arrived so quickly? Springrise term was nearly over. My project for Professor Allenvale’s class was finished. The essay needed a little more proofreading, and then I’d be turning it in. If only I could spend the evening working on my essay or riding Nyxaris instead of attending this ball.

I smiled to myself: Things had certainly changed when I found myself looking forward to dragon riding more than I did to donning a silk dress. The closer the ball came the more I wanted to run far, far away. I felt like I was constantly choking on the weight of expectations. Not just from being a dragon rider but from being their dragon rider. After tonight, the Avaris would practically own me.

I’d seen how Viktor had treated Medra. Being linked to Kage would protect me from him—at least, that was the plan. But were Lady Avari and her house really any better? The Avaris would still expect things of me, want things of me. And not just of me—of Nyxaris. They’d expect me to be able to deliver his obedience.

Right now the engagement was mostly for show—at least, that was what the Avaris had claimed. But after tonight, it was going to feel all too real. After Kage and I were officially betrothed, the next step would be an actual wedding. And if that happened …

I took a deep breath, trying not to imagine a passionless, awkward wedding night with a man I didn’t love and who didn’t love me.

Nyxaris was quiet in my mind, but I could sense his restlessness. Was he on the fence about this, too?

“Florence!”

I whirled around at the sound of Medra’s voice and saw her marching across the courtyard.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, looking exasperated but amused.

“I’m not?”

“No, you said you’d meet me back at our room to get ready for the ball.”

I glanced up at the clock. Somehow time had flown by. I was half an hour late. “Oh my goodness. That’s right. I’m so sorry. But …” I bit my lip.

Medra put her hands on her hips. “But?”

“But I don’t want to go, Medra,” I groaned.“Please don’t make me.”

Her lips twitched. “Is it the gown, the dancing, the people, or the entire thing?”

“The entire thing. Definitely the entire thing.” I covered my face with my hands and moaned. “This was a terrible idea. All of it. I should never have said yes.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then, “I don’t like it either. You know that.”

“I know.”

“But you’re doing it for a good reason,” she reminded me. “A very rational, logical one. And this isn’t a bonding—not like what I was forced into that day in the Black Keep. You won’t be, you know, making a vow or exchanging blood or anything like that. It’s just a ball. Just a very … public …”

“Spectacle,” I finished. “Where I’ll be on display as Kage Tanaka’s future consort.And after tonight, most people will consider me bound to him.”

“Right,” she finished lamely. “See? So simple.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Florence. I really am. But didn’t Nyxaris agree this was the best course of action?” She stepped forward, lowering her voice. “If he could protect you—fully and completely—from, you know, Viktor, then he would, right? You wouldn’t need Kage.”

“Right,” I said hollowly. “But it seems that he can’t.”

Medra linked her arm through mine, and together we walked to the weapons rack where I put back my bow and quiver.