Astrid
I stood staring at the registration board, my name printed neatly beside Reed’s and Xander’s, the ink still fresh enough to look almost deliberate, like fate had a sense of humor I hadn’t asked for.
"You volunteered me without asking," I said.
"And yet, you’re here," Xander said, entirely unbothered.
"Because I was told attendance was mandatory."
"Exactly. I merely saved you the trouble of choosing."
I glared at him. "I could’ve chosen not to participate."
Reed, scanning through the competition instructions, didn’t even look up. "You would have complained about whatever they assigned you anyway."
I turned on him. "You’re supposed to be on my side."
"I’m on the side of finishing this," Reed said.
Xander laughed, and despite myself, I realized I wasn’t nearly as tense around either of them as I used to be.
Reed explained the actual event a moment later, the Founders’ Team Challenge, three students working together through an enchanted maze, physical obstacles, magical puzzles, and traps, all meant to reward teamwork over raw strength.
Something in my chest loosened slightly at the word teamwork.
Xander noticed immediately. "What? Suddenly feeling confident?"
"I didn’t say that."
"Your face did."
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t fully argue.
Our first practice went badly. Xander cleared the obstacle course with ease, barely breaking a sweat, Reed following with careful precision that made every move look calculated in advance. I struggled through every section, hating how obvious the gap was between us. I slipped trying to climb one wall, and Xander’s hand shot toward me instinctively.
I caught myself before he could help. "I have it."
"You almost didn’t."
"But I did."
He grinned. "Stubborn."
"Annoying."
"You forgot handsome."
I gave him a flat look. "I didn’t forget. I ignored it."
Reed turned away, but I caught the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth before he did.
The puzzle section came next, an enchanted stone wall covered in symbols that shifted every time someone touched them. Reed studied the pattern. Xander tried several combinations, none of them working.
I watched quietly, and slowly the pattern clicked into place. The symbols weren’t random. They matched the old lunar calendar sequence I’d studied in the archives.
"Move," I said, stepping forward.
Xander raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"You’re doing it wrong."
I rearranged the symbols according to the lunar order, and the wall slid open.
Silence. Xander stared at the passage, then at me.
"You know, occasionally being right is becoming very annoying."
"Occasionally?" I said.
Reed looked at the open passage, then at me. "Good catch."
It was simple, but it landed harder than I expected. I was used to people noticing what I couldn’t do. Reed was noticing what I could.
The next obstacle required all three of us to cross a narrow elevated platform. I hesitated, still sore from combat class, my balance not something I trusted right now.
Reed didn’t tell me I couldn’t do it. He just spoke, calm and steady. "Don’t rush."
"I’m not."
"You’re thinking about rushing."
"How do you know that?"
"Because you’re gripping the rope like you’re about to fight it."
I loosened my grip and took another step. My foot slipped, and Reed’s hand shot out, catching my wrist before I could fall.
For one brief second, I was pressed close enough to feel his warmth, our eyes meeting, neither of us moving.
"Should I give you two a moment?" Xander’s voice cut in from behind us.
I pulled my hand back immediately. "No."
"Didn’t sound very convincing."
"Focus," Reed said, giving him a warning look.
Xander raised both hands. "I’m focused."
I turned away before either of them could see how warm my face had gotten.
After practice, Xander dragged me to one of the small target games near the training grounds, insisting it would help my accuracy. I suspected he mostly wanted to beat me.
I won.
He stared at the result. "You cheated."
"You lost."
"Same thing."
I laughed, and he watched me for a second, clearly pleased he’d managed to get that reaction out of me. "You’re getting better," he said.
"You mean that?"
"Unfortunately."
I laughed again, lighter than I’d felt in days.
As we walked away from the grounds, I admitted the thought that had been sitting with me all afternoon. "You two could probably finish the entire course without me."
"That’s not true," Reed said.
"You know what I mean."
"I do." He paused. "You’re looking at strength the wrong way."
"How?"
"You think being strong means being able to overpower someone." He nodded toward the course behind us. "You solved something neither of us could." A beat. "Stop assuming you’re the weakest person on the team."
"I am," I said.
"Not where it matters," he said quietly.
That landed somewhere deep. For most of my life, my weak body had been proof that something was wrong with me. Reed seemed to think there was more worth seeing than that.
By the time we made it back toward the main buildings, campus had already started transforming, decorations appearing seemingly overnight. Enchanted lanterns hung strung between the buildings, some floating above the courtyard without visible support, others shifting colors whenever a student passed beneath them. Wooden stalls were going up along the grounds, hammers ringing out somewhere in the distance, and faint music drifted over from the central square.
I slowed down, genuinely fascinated.
Ivy came running over, practically vibrating with excitement, already listing everything planned for the upcoming Moon Festival Carnival. Magical games. Food stalls. Performances. Fortune tellers. Enchanted attractions. The royal presentation.
My mood lifted despite everything. For once, I was actually excited about something happening at Moonshade. I imagined exploring the stalls with Ivy, trying strange festival food, maybe even spending time with the twins outside of classes and assignments for once.
"It actually sounds fun," I said.
Ivy grinned. "Exactly. And we’re absolutely visiting the fortune tellers."
I laughed, and for one brief, unguarded moment, I forgot every reason I had to be afraid of this place.
Xander and Reed were walking a few steps behind us, and Xander glanced toward the festival preparations. "We’ll have to disappear for part of it."
I turned. "Why?"
"Family duties."
I barely registered it at first. "What kind of duties?"
Reed answered before Xander could. "Father is attending."
I stopped walking.
My smile disappeared.
"Your father?" I asked.
Reed’s expression stayed calm, unaware of what those two words actually meant to me. "The King."
My stomach dropped straight through the ground beneath me, every bit of warmth from the last hour draining out at once, replaced by the same cold dread I hadn’t felt since the night I’d fled the city.