“Who are you?” My brain flat-out refused to function this morning, especially after last night’s binge drinking. And now, to top it all off, there’s a body in my bed. Not a girl’s, by the way. And practically naked.
“A man.” Wow, super helpful answer.
“Whose man?” Logic was clearly not on my side today, and the hangover hadn’t fully worn off either.
“Yours, apparently.” Excuse me, what?
“But I’m not married!” “This isn’t mine. Someone planted it here!” raced through my panicked mind. “No, this has to be some kind of bad prank.”
“Tell that to the marriage tattoo,” the stranger sighed, holding up his hands and shoving the ink right in my face.
“I’ve hit rock bottom…” was the last thought that flitted through my head like a bird before I passed out.
Two Weeks Earlier
The winter weather outside was absolutely gorgeous. The snow crunched pleasantly under my boots, and for some reason, that sound filled me with indescribable joy. I practically skipped toward the lecture hall, soaking up the rare rays of sunlight. They didn’t warm me at all, but they still managed to bring a smile to my face.
Student life buzzed all around me: adepts streamed out of the dorms and the cafeteria, heading to class. Some still looked half-asleep, while others were bursting with energy, like they’d been zapped with a magical jolt. Me? I was, as usual, somewhere in the middle.
Right by the steps, Ollie caught up with me—my best friend and a walking gossip encyclopedia. Of course, she immediately started spilling the latest tea.
“Can you believe it? That swamp hag found herself a new victim!”
In Ollie’s world, “swamp hags” were any girls who stood out from the crowd. Clearly, they were her favorite category of people to roast.
“And not just any victim—a real dragon!”
Okay, now she had my attention. Dragons are picky creatures. They don’t usually mess with humans.
“Who is it this time?”
Hey, I’m a girl too. Curiosity is basically my default setting.
“Oh, you wouldn’t know him. He’s one of the newbies. Remember that group I pointed out a few days ago?” I nodded, and she went on. “Yeah, he’s one of them. Rumor has it they’re from noble families.” Ollie mimed a crown on her head, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Our giggling drew a few curious glances from nearby adepts, but I quickly dragged her into the academy’s spacious lobby to avoid making a scene.
After that, along with a few other girls we knew, we headed to a lecture on life magic. The subject usually attracted future healers, though every now and then, a necromancer would show up. Those guys were always the most shocked—life magic weaves probably looked to them like a “step-by-step guide to saving your enemies.”
But today’s surprise was even bigger. A group of dragons showed up in our lecture hall. Dragons! What were they doing here? This class was for people into herbal remedies, not warriors!
As expected, the scaly crew took over the front row. Like magnets, they instantly drew the attention of the female half of our group. Well, everyone except me and Ollie. Though, to be honest, I think Ollie only stayed by my side out of loyalty. Deep down, she was probably torn between sticking with me and getting a closer look at the “winged ones,” but she held her ground.
Madame Citrou—our professor, who always amazed us with her unshakable calm—entered the room and immediately greeted the dragons. Her smile was so genuine that I almost suspected she was just as smitten with them as everyone else. But her professionalism kept her from getting swept up in the hype.
Once the lecture started, a relative silence settled over the room. Everyone was scribbling away, trying not to miss a single word from our professor. Well, almost everyone. The dragons just sat there, casually watching us sweat over our notes.
“Not interested, gentlemen?” Madame Citrou suddenly asked, raising one eyebrow in her signature “I see everything” way.
One of the dragons answered—a guy who stood out even among his own kind, like a mountain towering over hills. His broad shoulders took up half the desk space.
“Sorry, ma’am, it’s just that we’ve already covered this topic at the Flight Academy. So we’re just listening to refresh our memory.” His voice was deep, with a slight rasp, like he spent his nights telling bedtime stories to younger dragons by a campfire instead of sleeping.
Madame Citrou just smiled. “Well, in that case, perhaps you’d like to share your knowledge with our adepts?”
“Only if they’re okay with it,” he replied, looking straight at me.
Honestly, I didn’t care who was lecturing. As long as it wasn’t Ollie—her notes wouldn’t last half a class, let alone be useful—I was fine with it. I just shrugged, and the dragon headed to the board.
Turns out, he was a natural at teaching. He spoke clearly, paused for us to write things down, and even threw in lighthearted jokes that got the whole room smiling. What impressed me most was how his pacing matched my writing speed perfectly. Do dragons read minds or something?
At the end of the lecture, Madame Citrou thanked him for the engaging presentation and assigned us a report for the next class. I quickly jotted down the topic and headed for the door, but I didn’t get far before Ollie caught up with me. She looked so upset I almost thought someone had banned her from eating sweets.
“Ugh, we should’ve stayed! Did you see how the girls swarmed him? Wanna bet that scene will be the hot gossip of the day?” I just shook my head and linked arms with her, dragging her toward the next classroom.
Later, during potion-making, I got to pick the best spot in the room since I’m the class rep. It was like a holiday—usually, I end up at the worst table by the chimney, where you either choke on smoke or get a free steam bath. Today, though, I snagged a spot with perfect lighting and even a comfy bench.
Ollie winked at me. “Karma’s on your side! Instead of chasing dragons, you should’ve been thinking about seats.”
The rest of the group trickled into the room late, like they’d all collectively decided to extend their lunch break. Master Vindor, the epitome of strict discipline, silently watched their attempts to settle in. Her expression said more than words ever could: “Try that again, and I’ll count exactly how much time you’ve wasted.”
Once everyone finally took their seats, the master announced sternly, “You’ve wasted fifteen minutes on chatter and chaos. Ten more, and you’ll miss out on the practical session.” That shut everyone up instantly, like a bunch of scared kittens.
While the others were still inspecting the ingredients laid out in front of them, Ollie and I finished our tasks first. I’m not sure what felt better: watching the rest of the group scramble to catch up or seeing the look on one student’s face as he walked in late and desperately searched for an empty table.
The day was winding down. There was one more lecture left, but my mind was already on weekend plans. Maybe today wouldn’t go down as one of my favorites, but it’d definitely stick with me thanks to all the surprises—and that sweet spot in the classroom.
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