“What’s got you so deep in thought?” came a voice right by my ear—and I nearly fell into a snowbank in fright.

  I’d been so lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed Chester.

  He caught my arm just in time to steady me, smiling.

  “Thanks for not blasting me with magic. Still a few things to work on though, Aurora,” he joked lightly, then tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and led me toward the entrance.

  As we walked through the empty corridor, Vir Dymov seemed unusually tense.

  I expected him to explain eventually, but he just kept frowning in silence.

  “Is something wrong, Chester?” I finally asked. “I asked the dean—he said there won’t be any dragons at the ceremony.”

  He stopped abruptly, turned to face me, and placed both hands gently on my shoulders.

  “Aurora, I’ve been putting off this conversation, hoping you'd be ready. But clearly, you need more time than we have. You’re leaving the academy tomorrow, and I can’t wait any longer.”

  I shook my head slightly, letting him know I didn’t understand where this was going.

  Chester sighed and went on:

  “Ava... the engagement. Our fake engagement. I wanted to protect you—but that wasn’t the only reason. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough in my intentions. I’ve been careful, tried not to scare you, after everything you went through. But now... you don’t flinch anymore when I touch you. It’s been months since you’ve reached for a spell when I get close.”

  He paused, drawing a slow, steady breath.

  I understood what he was trying to say—even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it outright.

  He was afraid of hearing no.

  So I helped him.

  “Chester, I figured it out. The engagement... it wasn’t so fake for you. You’ve never pushed. You gave me time. You let me heal after... after the dragons. I’m grateful for that. Just be honest with me,” I added with a soft smile, hoping to ease his nerves.

  Chester smiled in return, exhaled loudly, and pulled a small black band from his pocket—like the kind worn during ancient dragon bonding ceremonies.

  “I know you don’t feel any grand passion for me. And that’s fine. I’m not some young mage chasing a dream. I know that in a family, understanding matters more than fire. I can protect you—and I won’t try to limit you. You’ve got potential, Snowflake. You’ll wither if you marry some northern labourer. But with me, you’ll have room to grow. Once I take the rector’s seat, I’ll fight to get you a place in the Academy. A tavern job is beneath you. I want to keep looking out for you, Aurora. If you’ll let me—if you’ll agree to be mine.”

  He held out the band, his expression frozen, hardly breathing—watching my face for any reaction to what he’d just said.

  For a moment, we stood in silence, eyes locked.

  Then I reached out my hand.

  “It would be an honour, Vir Dymov,” I whispered.

  Chester let out a sharp breath of relief and gently slid the dark band onto my index finger.

  “I’ll do everything I can to make you happy, Snowflake,” he whispered, pulling me closer and leaning in toward my lips.

  I resisted the instinct to pull away, closed my eyes, and rested my palm lightly on his chest—a quiet signal of consent.

  A moment later, I felt the cool press of his dry lips against mine. I remembered what Maximilian had taught me—and I returned the kiss.

  But unlike that first kiss with the dragon, there was no surge of fire racing through my body. No shiver down my spine.

  All I felt were Chester’s cool, dry lips—and the faint taste of herbal tonic, the kind I used to rinse my mouth in the mornings.

  When he finally pulled back, it was reluctantly, and his breathing was uneven.

  As though he were holding something precious, he wrapped his arms around me and held me close, his warm breath brushing the top of my head.

  For a few quiet moments, I just listened to the rapid beat of his heart.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “I don’t know why, but being with you makes me feel like a boy again, Aurora,” he said with a quiet laugh. “I never thought I’d feel anything like this again.”

  Unlike Chester, I felt completely calm.

  I had made my decision with my head—not my heart—knowing full well that this man was, in every way, a good match for me.

  And that was more than I ever expected to find while working in a tavern in the North.

  Handsome, educated, and intelligent. I didn’t quite understand why he had chosen me—but I was grateful. And his words gave me hope that marriage… might not be as terrible as I’d once imagined.

  Long before graduation, I had thought about what my future would look like.

  Sooner or later, I knew I’d have to settle down.

  And the idea of marrying one of the regulars at the tavern made my stomach turn.

  Rough hands, cracked and raw from the cold. Flushed, weather-beaten skin. A raspy voice and a cough that never quite went away.

  And worst of all—that wheezing snore and awkward grunting during his once-a-month “duties.”

  It had been foolish to hope for anything more while surrounded by hunters, lumbermen, and traders.

  From the girls working at the tavern, I’d learned more than I ever wanted to know about what happened between a vir and his dona behind closed doors.

  It was nothing like the whispered tales Camilla used to tell me—but I figured things might be different with dragons.

  Still, the thought of the first night after the bonding ceremony filled me with dread.

  The servers had all said the same thing: “Just shut your eyes tight and don’t fight it. It’ll be over quicker that way.” “The more you resist, the worse it is.”

  That advice came from every married woman I’d met after a few glasses of strong liquor.

  As I stood there, trying to shake off those grim stories about a proper dona’s wedding night, Chester entered the ballroom.

  The students of the Domestic Magic faculty had gathered, along with the rector and our one and only professor—who also served as our dean. There were only a few dozen of us in total, so one instructor had always been enough.

  The rector handed Vir Brom a small box of pins—our version of a diploma—wished us an “easy road ahead,” and promptly left the hall.

  That was our grand graduation ceremony.

  I’d heard that the Combat Magic students got a very different experience.

  Their parents were invited. Their diplomas were nearly gilded, engraved with their names and the Academy’s crest. Each document had an official copy stored in the archives. And if the student was the heir of a great dragon house, their diploma was framed and hung in the library for all to admire.

  In our case?

  A plain silver pin, no markings, no inscription. If someone wanted to verify our credentials, they’d have to write to the rector directly. The names of Domestic Magic students were kept on record for fifty years—after which they were thrown into the incinerator along with the trash.

  Our aging dean looked out over his students, sighed, and split the pins into two piles.

  He handed one stack to Chester with a weary grunt.

  “Let’s just get this over with.”

  It was my future husband who handed me my graduation pin.

  Chester gave me a smile, kissed my hand, and winked—more than the curt nod the other students got from the dean.

  While Vir Dymov went to file our names and archive the graduation list, I headed back to the dorm and packed my things quickly.

  In the morning, as I stood in my empty room, trying not to cry, my future husband appeared in the doorway.

  Without hesitation, he pulled me into the corridor and gave me a very public, very indecent kiss. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the jealous stares of the other students or my blushing cheeks.

  I had to get dressed in a rush when he informed me that a telipage had already arrived—booked a week in advance.

  With confident hands, Chester scooped up Wizardis’s cage, locked my old room himself, and said he’d have the rest of my belongings sent to my family home.

  It seemed that my acceptance of his proposal had given him a sudden boost of confidence.

  Every time I tried to argue, or even just take a bag myself, he silenced me with a quiet smile and kept walking steadily toward the academy gates—my hand firmly in his, not letting me pause or look back like I’d planned.

  “I’ve already arranged everything, Aurora. Everything’s fine. No reason to cry—you’ll get tired of this place soon enough,” he said cheerfully, squeezing my hand a little tighter.

  The gates opened, and following the mage, I stepped beyond the grounds of the Northern Academy.

  “Rest up. I’ll see you soon,” Chester said, handing me Wizardis’s cage.

  He opened the door to a wooden carriage and offered his hand to help me inside.

  “Thank you,” was all I managed to say.

  His sudden protectiveness still felt unfamiliar—but I didn’t resist it.

  Chester pressed a cold kiss to my hand, gave me another wink, and shut the door.

  I keyed in the coordinates, activated the portal stone, and leaned back against the narrow seat.

  Something about Vir Dymov’s behavior had struck me as... unusual. But I hardly knew the man I’d agreed to marry—so I didn’t dwell on it for long.

  I wasn’t too worried about my belongings.

  Even if something happened to them, it wouldn’t be much of a loss.

  Who’d want my worn-out dresses or old books, anyway?

  All my real valuables were with me—tucked safely inside a small bag that held my spatial artifact. It was a gift, and it held all my secrets. I never went anywhere without it.

  And of course, there was my feathered companion.

  Vir Dymov had handed Wizardis to me without hesitation, fully aware I wouldn’t leave without him.

  Back on the night of the Winter Ball, he’d realized just how attached I was to the little creature.

  Though he never understood why, he had chalked it up to the whims of a sentimental young girl—never suspecting what kind of treasure he’d brought into his academic quarters… or why.

  ***

  I spent the month after graduation at home—resting, doing nothing, and slowly preparing for the wedding.

  Chester and I didn’t wait long.

  He found a small house in the village next to the Academy. Just two rooms and a tiny kitchen—but it was enough for us.

  I couldn’t move in with him until after the bonding ceremony, so we used the next available weekend to visit my parents.

  That’s when I introduced them to my fiancé, and we picked a wedding date.

  Just like Vir Dymov once said, the wedding would take place in my home village.

  Chester had lost his parents young and was raised by his grandmother—who had passed on to the ancestors not long after he entered the Academy.

  He had no other living relatives.

  I didn’t invite much of my extended family either—just my parents, my brother, and a few girls I’d known since childhood.

  As for Chester, he invited Dean Brom—the only person who had known him since his youth.