“Ah, I know who I am to say that the vile mage has no such right: I’m the principal of Rebel Academy, Head of the House of Crows, and your bloody mother,” Henrietta snarled. “The mage shall pay for this crime, and Magenta, you’ll learn what happens when you choose the path of the wicked over the blessed.”
My breathing became ragged, and I clutched Robin. “You’re wrong. I’m only choosing the man who I love over a prince who’s a stranger.”
Then I screamed, as crows’ feathers, which flamed like I was trapped inside a blazing black bonfire, veiled the glade in Henrietta’s magic, transporting all of us back to the confines of the Rebel Academy and judgment.
Chapter Two
MAGENTA
When the fire from the blazing crows’ feathers died down, I choked on the stinking smoke, which stung my eyes. My familiars cawed like they were also struggling for breath. Robin hadn’t made a sound, however, and I focused on him in sudden terror.
Had Henrietta punished him even in the journey back to the Rebel Academy’s castle?
Robin was merely studying me with soft sadness, however, like he needed to memorize every detail because he’d never see me again.
What did he know that I didn’t?
Cauldrons and cobwebs, did he imagine that after we’d shared our love, I could leave it at one kiss?
I raised my shaky hand to smooth down Robin’s hair, as if looking presentable would save him. When I glanced around for my gloves, Echo tossed my right one to me from one side of the portrait gallery, and Flair threw me the left from the other. Golden light flooded through the arched window in the West Wing, heating my cheeks.
My chest ached, as I glanced at the Your Heart’s Desire book, which Robin had made for me. I longed to grab it and hold it tight. But I dared not draw attention to his gift, in case mother confiscated it.
Just like she was taking Robin from me.
With deliberate care, I kissed the tips of my gloves — I love you — before I dragged them on, imprisoning my fingers again. Robin’s troubled look lifted, as he smiled.
When Robin’s lips grazed mine, he tasted of blackberries. “Always.”
Henrietta stared down at me imperiously. She was already dressed in her ball gown, which was a confection of black lace; feathers fluttered around her with a wide skirt and a high neck like she was part crow. Her blonde hair was pinned in perfect coils on her head that shamed the loose tumble of my own, beneath a hat of woven robin skins.
“Let’s battle this ugly, feathered fuck, boss, and make her regret ever taking on Magenta and her familiars.” Flair hopped menacingly towards Henrietta.
“Bones and blood, I shan’t let this phony bird harm you,” Echo added.
“I can hear you,” Henrietta said coolly, “since I’m the one who transformed you. I’m no false bird, rather (at the risk of repeating myself), I’m the Principal. Clearly, I need to sign you up to Familiar Training. You have the most appalling language and manners, although your loyalty to my daughter is encouraging.”
The familiars hesitated.
“Thank you…?” Echo ventured.
“Don’t forget,” Robin whispered, low and urgent.
All of a sudden, Henrietta snatched Robin by his hair, dragging him away from me.
“Please, no…” I begged, but Henrietta burst a wall of flame down the corridor, separating Robin from me.
My magic sparkled across the fire, but I hissed at the searing pain that scorched through me to the bone at the touch.
“Hold your peace,” Henrietta snapped. “Haven’t I always taught you that to be Blessed is to hold responsibility? Do you forget all duty to your House and the Oxford covens?”
How could I forget? I’d been locked in the Bird Turret and taught nothing else for twenty-one years. All I’d wanted was one moment with Robin, before I was married. But had that been despicably selfish? Had I condemned him through my craving for his love?
Would my weakness lead to his destruction?
When Henrietta’s hand tightened in Robin’s hair, and he yelped, I winced.
“Then let me take responsibility.” I pushed myself to my feet, before straightening my shoulders. “I chose to kiss Robin. You make the point with eloquence. I’m the Principal’s daughter. As a mage, sentenced Rebel, and whipping boy, he had no choice but to…”
“Allow his lips to be forced open…?” Henrietta laughed, but I’d never seen such darkness dancing in her eyes, or perhaps, it’d always been there but simply not directed at me before. “You’re no liar, daughter, and I’m no fool.”
She waved her hand over the gallery’s wall, and I gasped. High up, a portrait materialized…of me.
It was an identical copy of how I looked right now as if I’d been caught in amber: long hair flowing around my shoulders, velvet dress with tulle like cobwebs, and a black pearl choker necklace.
Instantly, my hand raised to my own neck at the ghost memory of Robin’s touch. I hungered to feel Robin again, even in the innocent way that he’d hold my hand when the summer storms would come. Yet I shivered at the sensation flowing through my magic that I’d never be able to hold his hand again. I swallowed a sob with difficulty. I hated to give in to mother, but there was no way out of the academy. Hecate had been my last hope, and if she’d sided with the covens on my marriage, then I’d be wed to Titus. If I could save Robin first, then any sacrifice was worth it.
I clenched my hands at my sides. “If you don’t punish Robin, then I shall marry the prince with good grace tonight.”
I couldn’t meet Robin’s eye. I didn’t know how I kept standing, when I was shattered inside.
I didn’t expect the way that Henrietta flared the fire higher. “Do you think that after your display in the Dead Wood, I’d give you any other choice?” She yanked Robin closer to the portrait by his hair, and he gritted his teeth. “Now, what do you see?”
“A beautiful, powerful, and kind woman who I love,” Robin whispered.
I couldn’t help the smile, even through the tears that now streaked my cheeks. How long had I been desperate to hear those words? How long had I thought beautiful, powerful, and kind about him?
Henrietta’s nostrils flared like he’d described me as a vile and infernal whore (knowing Flair had done wonders for my vocabulary).
“What you see,” Henrietta repeated with the faked patience of the principal of an academy for bad boys, “is my Blessedly Charmed daughter who is too good to have her feet kissed by an orphaned mage such as you.” I bristled, shooting a glance at Robin and hoping he understood on all the witching stars that wasn’t true. But he still had his face pressed to my portrait, as his eyes glistened with tears. He gazed at the false me with an adoration that made me shudder because it was like he’d already lost the real…living…me. “Tonight, she’ll become a princess. Do you think you’ll deserve to be in her company then?” Be silent, be silent, be silent… “Why, I ask, did you ever imagine that you could compete with the prince who’s patron to the entire academy? By his generosity—”
“By Titus’ money, the Princes wallow in luxury, whilst the Immortals and whipping boys starve and suffer,” Robin growled. My eyes widened. I’d never heard anyone talk back to Henrietta before. By the way that she gaped at him, letting out a choked sound, neither had she. It was magnificent. “Now, Titus’ bribery has even won him your own daughter’s hand. Tell me, Principal Crow, how much does a Blessed witch cost nowadays?”