I barely had time to react.
The voice came from the shadows between the towering bookshelves, smooth yet laced with an unmistakable sharpness. A warning wrapped in silk.
My body tensed. My first instinct was to run. My second was to reach for the book, but I forced my hand to stay still. Using it recklessly was dangerous—I had no idea if there were consequences for overusing its power.
Instead, I turned slowly, my breath steady even as my heart slammed against my ribs.
And then I saw her.
She stepped into the dim candlelight, her uniform immaculate, the golden insignia on her collar gleaming faintly. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders in an elegant wave, sharp bangs framing a face that was almost too perfect—chiseled, cold, and utterly unreadable.
But it was her eyes that sent a shiver through me.
Icy blue, piercing and frigid, like twin blades honed to cut through deception.
I recognized her instantly.
Claude Ashford.
The Duchess's heir. A prodigy among prodigies. One of the most dangerous students in the academy.
And right now, she was looking straight at me.
"You're not supposed to be here," Claude said, tilting her head slightly. Her voice was calm, indifferent, but that only made it worse.
I swallowed. Think. Think.
Lying outright was stupid—Claude Ashford wasn't the kind of person you could fool with weak excuses. But if I gave her the wrong answer, I'd risk gaining her attention. And that was even worse.
So I did the only thing I could.
I kept my face blank and shrugged. "Neither are you."
A beat of silence.
Then, to my surprise, Claude let out a short, amused hum.
Interesting.
So she wasn't planning to report me immediately. That meant there was room to maneuver.
I forced myself to remain calm. "Look, I just needed to check something in the student registry. If you're going to turn me in, just get it over with."
Claude didn't move. Instead, her gaze flickered to the book tucked beneath my arm.
Shit.
"That book," she said, her voice dropping just slightly. "Where did you get it?"
She noticed.
A wave of unease crashed over me. How? The book didn't stand out. It was just a simple leather-bound tome. Yet somehow, she could tell there was something off about it.
I needed to choose my words carefully.
"...It's just a journal," I said evenly. "I write things down sometimes."
Claude's gaze lingered for a moment too long. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Then, finally, she turned away.
"I don't particularly care what you're doing," she said. "Just don't get in my way."
With that, she stepped past me, her presence fading into the library's dim glow.
I didn't move. Didn't even breathe until I was sure she was gone.
That was too close.
I exhaled shakily, my grip tightening around the book. Claude Ashford had noticed it.
That was a problem.
I had no idea how much she had actually seen, but one thing was clear—I needed to be more careful. If someone like Claude became suspicious of me, it wouldn't be long before others followed.
And in this academy, the last thing I needed was attention.
I needed to disappear.
But first… I needed to find the student records.