The letter arrived at dawn. It was a thick, creamy envelope, sealed with black wax stamped with the unmistakable silhouette of a raven in flight. It sat alone on the polished mahogany desk in Theo Deschamps’s private study.
Theo Deschamps
picks up the letter, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face Finally.
He broke the seal with a precise flick of his finger, the wax cracking cleanly. His light eyes scanned the formal script, the smile never leaving his lips. He read it once, then again, savoring each word.
Theo Deschamps
leans back in his leather chair, the letter held loosely in one hand Ben is going to lose his mind.
He reached for a sheet of his own stationery, embossed with the Deschamps crest. A fountain pen, heavy and silver, appeared in his hand as if summoned. He began to write, the scratch of the nib the only sound in the sunlit room.
Theo Deschamps
writing, his tone casual, assured Ben. It’s done. The invitation’s here. The Trials begin at the end of the month. Tell me you’re surprised. I’ll wait.
He paused, looking out the window at the manicured grounds below. A peacock strutted across the lawn. Everything was in its place. Everything, as it should be.
Theo Deschamps
adds another line, his writing fluid It’s a formality, really. The seat’s been reserved for a Deschamps since the order reformed. They just have to make a show of it for the others.
The door to the study opened without a knock. Daniel, Theo’s roommate from the Academy, stood in the doorway. He looked uncharacteristically hesitant, twisting his hands.
Daniel
Theo. You’ve seen the news?
Theo Deschamps
doesn’t look up from his letter If it’s not about the Ravens, I’m not interested.
Daniel
It… sort of is. The full list of Trial candidates was published this morning in the Chronicle.
Theo Deschamps
sets his pen down, finally giving Daniel his full attention And? Let me guess. It’s the usual suspects. Wellington’s boy. The Carrow girl. A few Ministry pups trying to make a name for themselves.
Daniel
shifts his weight All of them, yeah. But there’s… one more.
Daniel’s voice had gone quiet. Theo’s expression didn’t change, but the relaxed line of his shoulders tightened, just slightly.
Theo Deschamps
Spit it out, Daniel.
Daniel
Adelaide Reese. She’s on the list.
For a long moment, there was only silence. Theo’s gaze drifted from Daniel’s anxious face back to the half-written letter on his desk. His fingers tapped once, lightly, on the mahogany.
Theo Deschamps
a low, humorless laugh escapes him Of course she is.