Arcana Academy (Arcana Academy, #1)

by Elise Kova

Graysword: the name given to all orphaned and unwanted children in Eclipse City.

But there are a good few, like me, who were punished for nothing more than daring to try to make a better life for themselves and those they loved.

And what better way than to mend old wounds by taking the last surviving member of the clan that I destroyed by my own hand as my bride?”

Kaelis’s is more of a deep midnight purple, like the falcon feathers harvested for pigment—a prismatic shadow of night.

The Fire Festival is the annual opening ceremony of Arcana Academy—an extension of the summertime solstice tradition of lighting the lanterns in honor of the suit of Wands.

“So many royal motifs…Are you worried about forgetting what family you belong to?” I ask dryly.

While he was founding the academy with all its power and opulence, I was living in squalor just across the bridge.

He doesn’t know that while he hasn’t seen me in years, I’ve seen him. It was here, in this place, not long ago. Or, perhaps, a very long time ago. My mind has become so hazy.

It’s been so long since anyone has taken that kind of interest in me, or since I’ve been willing to put myself out there, that I’ve almost forgotten what the chase feels like. The sensation of someone looking at me with something more than animosity. I’ve missed the rush of heat. The thrill of possibilities unknown. Of the push and pull of flirtation. I’m not looking for love here. But a bit of fun wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome…

I hate him, I remind myself. I hate him and all his ilk. Every noble who treats us like tools rather than people. Who turns a blind eye to our suffering. All of them.

“The tarot lives in us all. It is both feminine and masculine; it is also neither. It is the essence of life and nature in all its forms.”

“Her name is Priss.” “Priss,” I repeat, still in shock. “It’s a perfectly acceptable name for a cat.”

The mantra of the club echoes in my mind: Don’t weep for an empty coffin.

“Does dressing exhaust you so much that you have to sit down in the midst of doing it?” I nod at the chairs. “It’s exhausting being this good-looking.”

“What do you want with the World?” “What anyone would.” He drags his eyes to me, and with them a chill runs down my spine. “To change everything.”

I tighten my arms slightly around myself, as though I could protect my person from the man who already has me in his palm.

“I was brought to the fortress and, before none but my father, made to give up my future. I surrendered all three cards to the Chalice.”

“I am the spare. I exist as a tool to my father and my brother. To manage their magics, fortify their borders, maintain their trade, and keep them safe.”

“You are the Wheel of Fortune, the least understood Major because your power is luck itself—changing fate. That luck has given you the ability to craft any Minor Arcana with any ink.”

“You believe that with my skills, I can make convincing counterfeits of all the four Major Arcana your father has.” I’m finally seeing the design of the web I find myself in. “You plan to steal them.”

Everything spiraled out of control when Mother died. We lived on the streets. Arina and I fought and stole, breaking almost every law. We became reckless, obsessed with Mother’s murderer.

“The prince’s whore is probably as messy in the bedroom as she is with her tarot.”

Cliques have begun to form, but I don’t quite belong to any faction.

“If you wanted to see me with my clothes off so badly, you could’ve asked,” he drawls.

It’s as if he aches for a nourishment food can’t give him. He aches for a comfort deeper than the velvets and furs he surrounds himself with. Aches for the touch of something kind…or at least of a pleasure deep enough to forget himself for a while.

something I should’ve never trusted him with. I did stupid things when I thought I’d met the love of my life at seventeen.

“I got lost.” “You ran.” Frustration and embarrassment tighten my chest. “I made a strategic retreat.

“But don’t forget that because I am ‘new,’ I didn’t grow up with the same privileges as you. I grew up in a world where if you threaten someone, it has consequences. So be really sure you want to make me your enemy before you say another word. I know where you sleep, after all.”

“You have quite the punch.” He moves his jaw around, blood dripping from his lips. “You have quite the weak jaw.”

He’s never going to make me feel small again. No one will. I’ll kill anyone who ever threatens me or those I love. There will be no quarter for them. No peace.

I’ll remake the whole fucking world if that’s what it takes to have my family and keep them safe.

“You don’t know what it’s like to, for your entire life, be told you’re a thing that can be used, beaten, discarded.”

Never have I seen anyone admire anything I’ve created the way Kaelis does. It is as if the secrets of the world are wrapped in my rough lines and hasty inking. As though he is entranced wholly and completely. I wish someone would look at me that way.

In the absence of any other response, arrogance becomes my defense.

Sometimes the living must breathe because the dead cannot.

“If to bring about a new world—a better world—I must be the villain, if I must do evil things for the greater good, then so be it. I’ll play the part now and be reborn a hero in my next life.”

There’s a long pause that seems to encapsulate a thousand thoughts, a thousand long nights of inner turmoil

“But it’s also true that, sometimes, even the worst among us want a moment of absolution. To feel our humanity isn’t entirely rotted away, that...

“You’re too warm to be a husk.” My lips arc in a slight smile, slowly, as if to show him how it’s done. “You’re a man of flesh and blood, whether you want to be or not.”

You are somehow better and worse than I could’ve ever imagined—everything I needed and the last fucking thing I wanted.”

“To be honest, Kaelis, the only thing I ever thought I’d want from you is your heart, carved from your chest.”

“I know the importance of family. It’s basically the only thing worth fighting for in this messed-up world.”

Nothing is going to help me sleep better my first night here than the overwhelming, smug satisfaction of being chosen by his cat.

Love me, hate me, but only look at me like my existence sets you on fire…

“My sister died.”

But what has the “greatest good” ever given to me?

This world, the next…it’s not worth it without the people I love.

This world has made me selfis...

“My father killed my blood mother.”

There’s a glint of something damaged in Cael’s eyes, like a door that’s been ripped off its hinges. He’s seen things he wishes he hadn’t. Done things he probably wishes he hadn’t.