The hallways of Aethermoor Academy were eerily quiet after dinner. Most students were either winding down in the common rooms or sneaking out for some after hours mischief. Not Theo Beaufort. No, he was headed to detention. He hadn’t been since his second year when he accidentally caused the greenhouse floor to quake during an elemental duel, breaking a few of Professor Tiddlesons precious potted plants.
Theo scowled, his footsteps echoing off the stone floors as he descended the spiral staircase to the hexology wing. Of all the people who could have landed him in trouble, it had to be Amara.
It still annoyed Theo how their clash that morning had spiraled out of control. The Elemental Syndicate lecture with Professor Somerset had been tense enough without Amara turning it into her personal soapbox. Her opinions on magical law and Syndicate policies were the same holier than thou nonsense she always spewed, and he hadn’t been able to hold his tongue.
Sure, things had gotten heated, maybe a bit louder than intended, but his responses had been perfectly warranted. Someone needed to call her out. The fact that Somerset had lumped him into detention as if he were equally to blame was absurd. If anything, Amara should’ve been the one left to endure Grimward’s wrath alone.
Theo clenched his jaw, his irritation simmering as he descended the last few steps. It wasn’t his fault Amara had a way of getting under his skin, poking at nerves he didn’t even know he had. But no, apparently standing your ground in a debate was now a punishable offense at Aethermoor.
Theo ran a hand through his messy hair and cursed under his breath. His mother was going to have an absolute meltdown when she found out. Elaria Beaufort did not tolerate failure, especially not from her only son. If she so much as caught wind of him sitting through detention, there’d be a lecture so scathing it would make Grimward seem soft.
He rounded the corner, the classroom door in sight now, and slowed his pace. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever smug remark Amara had undoubtedly prepared. She always had some clever retort on standby, just waiting to cut him down a peg.
Pushing the heavy door open, Theo immediately spotted her. Sitting perfectly upright in one of the front desks, her legs crossed, a neat stack of parchment in front of her as if this were just another study session. Her hair cascading down past the seat of the desk like ink spilling almost onto the floor.
“Of course,” Theo muttered, loud enough for her to hear as he strolled in. “Little Miss Uptight is early. Even for detention.”
Amara didn’t even glance up, but her lips curved into a slight smirk. “Punctuality is a virtue, Beaufort. Something you wouldn’t understand.”
He dropped into the desk furthest from hers with an exaggerated huff, draping an arm over the back of his chair, tilting his head back in stress. “Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t go around provoking people, you wouldn’t be stuck here with me.”
That got her attention. Amara turned, her bright blue eyes narrowing as they met his. “Provoking people? You’re the one who decided to make the Syndicate lecture a public debate.”
Theo opened his mouth to retort, but the door slammed open, cutting him off. Professor Grimward entered, his dark red robes billowed behind him, flowing like a tide of blood in his wake. He carried an air of authority so heavy it made the room feel colder.
“Quiet,” Grimward snapped, not bothering to look at either of them. He strode to his desk, waved his hand lazily toward the rows of bookshelves lining the walls, and muttered something under his breath. A powerful gust of wind burst through the room, sending every book flying off the shelves and onto the floor in chaotic piles.
Theo’s jaw tightened. This was going to be an extremely long night.
“Your task is simple,” Grimward said, his voice low and gruff. He turned to face them, his dark eyes scanning both of their faces like a hawk sizing up its prey. “Sort these books. By hand. Without magic.”
Theo blinked at the scattered tomes, which looked more like a small disaster zone than anything resembling a library. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath.
Grimward’s sharp gaze landed on him. “Did you have something to add, Mr. Beaufort?”
Theo stiffened, glancing at Amara, who for once wasn’t jumping at the chance to speak up. “No, Professor,” he mumbled, sinking back in his chair.
Grimward snorted and folded his arms. “I’ll be in my office working. Do not bother me unless the academy is on fire. And even then, think twice about interrupting.” With that, he swept out of the room, leaving the two of them alone with the chaos he had created.
The door clicked shut, and for a moment, the only sound was the faint rustling of pages settling in the piles around them.
“Well,” Amara finally said, rising from her chair, her onyx hair falling to her waist in slight waves, and surveying the mess. “This will be fun.”
Theo barked out a laugh, though there wasn’t any humor in it. “Oh yeah, a real blast. Let’s spend our evening bonding over alphabetizing hexology books.”
“You could at least try not to be insufferable for five minutes,” she shot back, already crouching to pick up a battered book from the floor. She flipped it over, examined the spine running a single finger down the text, and began organizing a small pile beside her.
Theo stayed seated for a moment longer, watching her work. There was something infuriatingly methodical about the way she moved, like she was determined to make the best of even this miserable situation. It made him feel oddly guilty for still sitting there, doing nothing. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself up, rolling his sleeves, and grabbed a book from the nearest pile.
“What section are we starting with?” he asked, turning the book over in his hands. It was an old tome, the title barely legible on the cracked leather spine.
Amara glanced at him briefly. “Defensive hexes should go on the far left shelves. That’s where they were before Grimward decided to wreck everything.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Theo nodded and walked toward the shelves, the book still in his hands. “You seem pretty comfortable with this whole manual labor thing. Let me guess, this isn’t the first time you’ve been stuck cleaning up a mess.”
Amara rolled her eyes as she picked up another stack of books. “Unlike you, Beaufort, I don’t rely on magic for every minor inconvenience. Some of us are capable of getting things done without waving our fingers around.”
Theo smirked despite himself. “I’d wave my fingers around right now if Grimward wasn’t lurking somewhere nearby. One little levitation charm, and we’d be done in ten minutes.”
“And then we’d get more detention,” Amara shot back. She moved past him toward the shelves, her shoulder brushing his lightly, sending sparks up his arm as she passed.
They worked in silence for a while, the sound of rustling pages and the occasional thud of books filling the room. It was tedious work, but Theo found himself strangely focused on it. Every now and then, his gaze would drift to Amara as she sorted through the piles with an efficiency that bordered on obsessiveness.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered after a while, dropping a particularly heavy book onto the shelf with more force than necessary. “We shouldn’t even be here. All I did was point out the obvious this morning.”
Amara glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “The ‘obvious’? Is that what you call preaching about how the Syndicate doesn’t need any changes?”
“They don’t,” Theo said sharply, turning to face her. “The laws we have in place work fine as they are. My mother’s done an incredible job keeping order, and frankly, I don’t see why you or anyone else feels the need to fix something that isn’t broken.”
Amara straightened, clutching a book to her chest as she glared at him. “Incredible job?” she echoed, her voice rising. “You mean incredible for people like you. Not everyone benefits from the Syndicate’s outdated policies, Theo. People fall through the cracks every day, people you don’t even bother to notice.”
Theo opened his mouth to argue, but Amara cut him off, stepping closer. “I want the apprenticeship because I know things need to change. And unlike you, I actually care about fixing what’s broken, not just keeping everything the same because it works for my family.”
Her words stung more than he cared to admit. He stepped back, turning his attention to another stack of books. “Whatever,” he muttered. “It’s not like it matters what I think anyway.”
Amara hesitated for a moment before speaking. “It does matter,” she said quietly. “Whether you want it to or not.”
Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken. Theo glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing for the first time how tired she looked. Not just physically, but in a way that felt oddly familiar, like she was carrying something she didn’t want to share.
He frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but just then, their hands brushed as they both reached for the same book. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through him, and when their eyes met, the air in the room seemed to shift.
Neither of them moved for a moment, their gazes locked. Theo’s breath caught in his throat, and for a second, he forgot where they were. The tension crackled like a live wire, and it took everything in him to tear his eyes away.
With a cough, he straightened and stepped back, letting her take the book. “Don’t get used to me helping,” he said gruffly, grabbing another stack of books and turning away.
Amara didn’t respond, but Theo could feel her eyes on him as he returned to the shelves. They worked like that for some time before Theo couldn't handle the uncomfortable silence.
Theo placed the book on the shelf with a thud, breaking the tense silence. “You know,” he began, his voice tight, “for someone who loves the sound of her own voice, you’re surprisingly quiet right now.”
Amara’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t look up from the pile of books she was sorting. “Maybe I’m trying to focus on actually finishing this, unlike you.”
He snorted. “Focus? That’s rich coming from you. All you do is focus, on being right, on being perfect, on proving how much better you are than everyone else.”
She whipped her head toward him, eyes blazing. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he snapped, leaning against the shelf, arms crossed. “It’s exhausting, Amara. Watching you parade around like you’re some moral authority on everything, like you’re destined to save the world from itself. It’s like you’ve got this need to prove you’re better than the rest of us.”
Amara dropped the book she was holding, stepping toward him. “And what about you, Theo? You’re no fucking saint. All you ever do is criticize me, mock me, and make every moment we’re in the same room unbearable. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you hate me so much?” she snapped, her voice trembling with anger. She stepped closer to him, her chest almost reaching him. Her head tilted up and eyes locked in an unforgiving gaze “Forget our families for a second, set aside the feud, the history, all of it. Why do you hate me? Go on. Say everything you’ve been holding in for the last twelve years. Now’s your chance.”
Theo blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her challenge. “I—”
“No, don’t hold back now,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “Tell me everything. Tell me why you roll your eyes every time I speak, why you look at me like I’m dirt under your fucking shoe, why you can’t go a day without finding some way to make me feel like I don’t belong here. Go ahead. Get it all out.”
His temper snapped. “Fine!” he roared, stepping toward her, uncomfortably close. “You want to know why I can’t fucking stand you? Because you’re always there. Always perfect, always untouchable, always ready to remind me of every single thing I’ll never be!”
Amara’s breath hitched, but she stood her ground.
“You act like you have all the answers,” Theo continued, his voice dropping but still laced with venom. “You waltz around this place like you’re above it all, like you’re somehow immune to the politics and the pressure. Meanwhile, I’m stuck carrying the weight of my entire name, my family, and this ridiculous rivalry that I didn’t even choose! Do you know what that’s like?”
Amara stared at him, her anger faltering. “Theo—”
“I have to fucking hate you,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet now, almost a whisper. “Don’t you get that? I have to. It’s embedded in my blood. It’s what my mother’s drilled into me since I was old enough to walk. The Ashfords are the enemy. You are the enemy. If I don’t make your life miserable, then what the fuck am I? What’s the point of any of this?”
Her heart pounded as she took a shaky breath, her hand slightly reaching out to graze his arm. “And if you didn’t have to hate me? What then?”
He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. “If it weren’t for all this… maybe we could’ve been friends. Good friends, even.” His green eyes met hers, unguarded for the first time, and she saw the weight he carried. “But that’s not how this works. I don’t get to choose.”
Amara didn’t know what to say. For years, she’d thought Theo hated her for the sake of it, that he was nothing more than a spoiled, arrogant asshole. But now, seeing the cracks in his armor, she realized that the pressure he lived under wasn’t so different from her own.
“That sounds exhausting,” she said softly.
He froze, his posture stiffening. “What?”
“Carrying all of that,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “Your name, your family, the rivalry. It sounds… exhausting.”
Theo exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. “You have no idea.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of the conversation hung in the air, heavy and unspoken, as they returned to their work. Amara found herself glancing at Theo occasionally, watching the way his jaw tightened, the way his hands moved mechanically as he sorted through the books.
When the last book was finally placed on the shelf, Theo straightened and turned to her, his face once again a mask of indifference. “If you tell anyone about this conversation,” he said coldly, his voice like steel, “I’ll have your fucking tongue.”
Amara raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself. “Should I take that as a warning?”
Theo glared at her, his eyes flickering with something unreadable, before he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Left alone, Amara crossed her arms, her gaze lingering on the door. She couldn’t tell if Theo’s parting words had been meant to unsettle her or hint at something more complicated.