Astrava University: Bound by Eclipse

By the time the Vale estate disappeared behind the trees, I had apologized three times: once to the maid who carried my trunk, once to the steward because my papers needed a second seal, and once—quietly, to no one at all—when the carriage jolted and the silver Covenant token slipped from my hand.

I caught it before it hit the floor.

Stop apologizing.

Right. Useful advice at twenty-three.

My name was Lyra Vale. I was the First Heir of one of the oldest Arcane Houses in the Dominion, and before lunch I was going to dissolve the childhood Covenant that had promised me to Darian Blackmoor.

Because he had chosen my younger sister instead.

The token turned cold between my fingers. Blackmoor’s panther curled around one side; Vale’s branching sigil covered the other. Two Houses joined in silver for a few more hours.

Outside the window, the Vale estate vanished behind summer trees while the Aether carriage picked up speed. Blue-white runes glowed beneath the polished frame, lightening the weight so the dark horses barely seemed to notice what they were pulling. House Vale had always been good at making old things comfortable.

People were harder.

No Father had come to see me off. No Lysandra, my stepmother, had stood on the steps pretending this morning was unfortunate. No Marielle had appeared either, though considering she was the reason for the dissolution, perhaps that was for the best.

They would all meet me at Astrava.

Father had called that arrangement reasonable.

He liked that word.

Be reasonable when Marielle was introduced first. Be reasonable when guests praised her magic and politely avoided asking about mine. Be reasonable when House Vale discussed its future while its actual First Heir was standing in the room.

House Vale had produced witches for generations. Proper Arcane witches: strong Aether, trained spellcraft, and a Second Shadow that appeared with magical maturity. Some Shadows looked almost human. Others carried horns, feathers, smoke, branches, flame—an echo of the magic beneath the skin.

Mine had never appeared.

I had an ordinary shadow and enough Arcane power to pass every legal test, but not enough to impress anyone who cared about bloodlines. I could light a ward, hold a simple binding and pass every practical examination put in front of me; I simply did all of it with less force than a Vale daughter was supposed to have.

People called me subtle when they were being kind.

Shadowless when they weren’t.

Marielle was neither.

Her magic was bright, easy and visible. Her Second Shadow had manifested cleanly, and apparently Darian found the whole package easier to imagine beside him.

He chose her.

That was the part I kept trying to dress in better language.

Magical compatibility. House interests. A more suitable arrangement.

He chose her.

The truth still hurt, which was irritating.

Darian had not always been cruel. That would have made this simpler. He had been funny when we were children, competitive enough to cheat at strategy games and charming enough to make me laugh when I caught him. Later, he remembered my birthday, forgot important exams and once sent me white roses as an apology.

I hated white roses.

I had told him they were beautiful.

The carriage crossed Astrava’s eastern boundary, and university wards skimmed over my skin in a familiar sweep of pressure. Something in my chest loosened before I could stop it.

Beyond the trees, towers rose over the hillside, dark slate roofs broken by glass domes and narrow bridges. An Aether tram curved toward the station below, brass flashing in the morning sun. Somewhere beyond it were my dormitory, the library and Maeve, who would probably call Darian several things I would pretend not to find comforting.

Astrava had managed in one year what House Vale had failed to do in twenty-three.

It felt like mine.

That mattered more than I wanted to admit. At Vale, every room came with a history I had failed to live up to. At Astrava, I had arrived as myself and somehow that had been enough.

Old Law Hall appeared lower on the hill, pale stone beneath a steep black roof. The licensed Covenant chambers lay underneath it.

My stomach tightened.

I tucked the token beneath my dress and watched the hall grow larger through the carriage window.

By noon, Darian Blackmoor would no longer have any legal claim on my future.

I should have felt free already.

Instead, some humiliating part of me still wondered whether he would look at me and regret choosing her.