Non-Heir (The Black Mage 0.5)(28)

Study was hard, harder than even the prince had come to expect. Darren could feel their exhaustion clouding the air.

People were already starting to fall behind on the second day.

Not Darren, but others.

Everyone was fighting just to stay awake, complaining loudly that there was no way they could possibly keep up with the masters’ expectations.

Darren smirked. He didn’t have to worry about that.

But the prince did desire more time among the Academy’s books. The school’s library was a towering fortress—two levels of shelves as far as the eye could see. Scrolls dictated the magical history of Jerar, the practice of casting, and warfare. And if there was something Darren desired, it was more of the last.

The prince was used to long hours, and his lessons were nothing new, but those books...

The servants had made it very clear that first-years were not allowed to wander the halls at night. The masters had established routines for a reason. Students needed a clear mind, and one that was heavily fatigued would suffer, but Darren never backed away from a challenge.

So, like the night before, the prince waited until the boys were all settled away in their beds and the barracks was a shadowy den. Then he slipped out, his hood pulled low over his eyes.

Darren slunk along the dark passages filling the Academy walls. He traced familiar sandstone as he drew closer to the library itself, but he cursed when one of his boots scuffed the floor.

Somewhere behind him there was a scuffle of feet as one of the patrolling servants rushed in his direction.

Quick as a flash, the prince ducked into the room, softly shutting the heavy doors behind him. There was a moment’s indecision as he debated which shelf to hide behind. As the voices drew closer, he ducked behind a bookcase to his right.

A second later, the doors swung open and torchlight lit up the entry just yards from where he stood.

Two servants entered the room.

“But I thought I heard someone—”

“You think you hear a lot of things,” the second snapped. “But once again, you’ve managed to waste my time.”

“But shouldn’t we still search?”

“Really, Frederick, who would sneak off to library of all places?”

“I don’t—”

“Out!”

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, the voices vanished as the doors swung closed with a loud thwack. Their footsteps faded moments later; Darren suspected the servants were returning to check on the barracks.

Darren chuckled as he withdrew his hood, palming a bit of casted light in his hand. The thrill of almost being caught had been a rush he hadn’t felt in a while. These nightly sessions in the library might become routine just for that.

The prince settled comfortably into one of the many couches, a pile of books resting on the table nearby. This was better than the palace. He was miles away from his father and Blayne and finally enjoying the freedom he had fantasized about for so long.

Here, Darren wasn’t second-born. No one cared that his brother came first. He wasn’t a non-heir when all they saw was a mage. Darren was still a prince, but he was free of the Crown. The masters admired magic and physical prowess, and that was all that mattered.

Darren was no longer the shadow in the corner. He was now the sun lighting up the room.



Much later that night, there was a clatter as Darren was gathering the last of his notes.

It came from up above.

The prince’s gaze shot to the stairs. Someone was here. He wasn’t alone.

Darren got up to investigate, and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw a shadow descending a ladder from the higher floors. As it lowered itself to the stairs, the figure came into the light. He could see its outline through the flickering light in his fist.

When it finally turned around, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“You?” Darren rasped.

“You’re not the only one who wants to get ahead,” the lowborn stated primly. Her gaze was defiant again. There was no hesitation, just challenge. “You know, us commoners, not all of us are just here to ‘socialize and talk about feelings.’”

For a moment, just a moment, Darren flinched. He had been cruel to her the day before in the hall. They both knew it, and the girl looked like she wanted to slap him across the face.

She was with Ella when she questioned your place.

Darren’s shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed. He couldn’t believe he had almost apologized.

The girl seemed to recognize his expression. She sighed and broke his gaze, starting toward the door.

She was going to get caught if he didn’t warn her.

“Wait!”

The lowborn spun and Darren cursed his tongue, wondering why he had called out to her in the first place.

The girl shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for him to continue whatever he was planning to say.

“Don’t take the right hall.” The words spilled out of his mouth, and he couldn’t understand why. She was nothing to him. “Barrius had Frederick patrolling there last night.”

“A-all right.” The girl looked so confused. Her face was still lit up by the light in his palm—and Darren stared a moment too long. Her eyes weren’t just gray, he realized; there were flecks of blue too.

Not the blue of ice like his father and Blayne, but blue like a clear, rushing falls. Blue like the sky during that moment, that single moment at dawn, when everything ceased to matter, everything but that moment...