Chapter 202: To Bring Change
The next morning, Aveline went to spend time with the creatures again.
By then, the Archduke had already expanded the enchantments around their enclosure, and the change was almost immediate. The creatures moved more freely within the widened space, and there was something heartening in the way they responded to her presence.
They did not recoil from her. They came closer, calmer now, obedient in that strange, trusting way they seemed to reserve for her alone. When she led them out into the sunlight, they looked almost cheerful, as though the simple act of seeing the sky had eased something long aching inside them.
Aveline watched them with a soft, thoughtful expression.
It was difficult not to be moved by that.
For all their sharp teeth and uncanny bodies, they looked so much like anything else that had ever been caged and forgotten. The sunlight warmed them. Their restlessness quieted.
Their eyes, once dark with strain, seemed lighter somehow, content in the small freedom she had helped secure for them. And when the time came, she guided them back into their cages with care before returning to the lab, her heart a little less heavy than it had been the night before.
There, she resumed work on the pill for the King.
She needed a win.
She truly did.
She had arrived in Greenvale with nothing except the impossible feelings she carried for Theron and the powers she still did not fully understand. Everything else had been stripped away from her in one way or another, and yet Theron had become her anchor in the middle of all that uncertainty.
He was her grounding. Her certainty. The one thing that made this strange, disorienting kingdom feel like it might still become something she could survive.
She believed in him.
More than that, she believed in what he could become.
When he came to power, she was certain he would change things. He would make everything better. He would not let the kingdom remain this divided, this cold, this rotten with fear and selfishness.
And if that was true, then she wanted to stand beside him and become part of that strength. She wanted to be useful to him, not just loved by him in secret, not just dreamed of in hidden moments, but truly useful. Someone he could rely on when the world turned difficult.
She tried, at one point, to speak to the Archduke about what she had seen on campus, about the way the girls were treated, about the fear and danger so many of them carried every day without anyone intervening.
But the moment she began, he found some odd trinket or other on a nearby shelf and became so distracted by it that he rushed off without really listening. Aveline stood there for a moment, watching him disappear, then let out a slow breath of frustration.
It seemed that listening was something people in this kingdom treated as optional.
Still, she refused to be discouraged.
She wandered the halls after that, hoping she might see the girl from before, hoping that somehow she could do more than simply write a report and leave it to others.
But for reasons she could not quite explain, she could not even meet the other girls’ eyes properly. The memory of that one girl’s face haunted her. The emptiness in it. The resignation. The way she had not asked for help even when Aveline had expected her to.
It lingered like a shadow she did not know how to step around.
By evening, Aveline had composed herself again.
Not because the weight had left her.
It had not.
But because she had made up her mind.
Things needed to change.
That much was undeniable.
And if no one else was going to begin, then she would. She would help bring that change however she could, even if she had to start with one small thing at a time.
But first, before all of that, before anything else, she needed to strengthen Theron. She needed him ready. Stable. Unshaken. Because if she was going to stand beside him when the real changes began, then he would need to be able to carry the weight of it too.
So she focused.
And from that moment on, she threw herself into the work with renewed determination.
-----
Meanwhile, Lydia walked through the corridors of the Arcanum with hurried steps, her books clutched tightly against her chest.
She paused at an intersection and looked behind her.
Nothing.
The corridor stretched long and empty beneath the afternoon light spilling through the tall windows. There was no one there. No footsteps. No movement.
And yet...
She could have sworn someone had been following her.
Lydia swallowed and resumed walking, only to quicken her pace a few moments later.
It had been happening for days now.
At first, she had dismissed it as nerves. The Arcanum was large, after all, and students were always coming and going. It was easy to mistake another person’s route for deliberate pursuit.
But this felt different.
Too many times, she had turned around only to catch a glimpse of a shadow disappearing around a corner. Too many times, she had felt eyes lingering on her back, watching her. Sometimes, when she left a lecture hall, she would find herself searching the crowd instinctively, convinced that someone was there.
Watching.
Waiting.
She hated it.
The feeling had settled beneath her skin and refused to leave, making her constantly look over her shoulder, making her avoid empty corridors whenever possible.
Lydia abruptly broke into a run.
Her footsteps echoed loudly through the hall as she hurried toward the girls’ dormitory, her breathing becoming uneven. Only when she finally stepped into a busier section of the Arcanum did she slow down.
She pressed a hand against her chest.
I’m being ridiculous, she told herself.
There’s no one there.
But even as she thought it, she did not quite believe it.
Her first instinct was to tell Aveline.
Aveline would listen. Aveline always listened.
Ever since they had met, Aveline had been kind to her in ways Lydia still did not fully understand. She had protected her, shared meals with her, listened to her endless gossip, and somehow made Lydia feel safe in a place that often did not feel safe at all.
Yet Lydia hesitated.
Aveline already had so much on her shoulders.
She spent her days helping the Archduke, caring for strange creatures, disappearing to who-knew-where with Aelion, and carrying burdens Lydia suspected she had never spoken aloud.
And Aveline had already done so much for her.
Lydia was not sure it would be right to trouble her with something that might amount to nothing more than her own imagination.
So she said nothing.
Instead, she hugged her books tighter and walked back toward the dormitory, trying very hard to ignore the uneasy feeling that followed her all the way to her room.
Behind her, at the far end of the corridor, a figure stepped out from behind a pillar.
And watched her leave.
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