Author's Preface
Professor Alaric Fen had been talking for less than five minutes when Tessa’s pen began to bend between her fingers.
“Aileen and Kael’s reforms remain one of the most debated decisions of the late Concord era.”
He said their names calmly, as if they belonged to history instead of to her. Tessa loosened her grip before the pen snapped.
Around her, pages turned and notes appeared across glowing tablets. Everyone else could listen to a lecture about rulers dead for more than a century and treat it like exactly that: a lecture.
Theo Monroe was supposed to do the same. Somewhere inside Night Moonveil’s records might be the truth about what had happened to her parents and the chronomancy knowledge that could take her back to their era. That was why she was here.
It was also why she could not react like their daughter. Fen traced a glowing line across the projected timeline.
“They wanted to give the major bloodlines a more equal share of power. Critics argued that the reforms only increased tension between them.”
Critics.
A remarkably polite word for people who had preferred dragons deciding everyone else’s future. Tessa lowered her eyes to her notes.
She could correct Fen. She could explain what Aileen and Kael had actually wanted. She could also announce that Theo Monroe stopped being Theo at midnight and save everyone the trouble of uncovering her secrets one at a time. So she kept writing. Then movement two rows over caught her attention.
Zoran Ashencroft. Perfect. Apparently dragons attended history too.
After last night’s assessment, he was the one person in the room she did not need watching her. He had already caught Theo hiding magical skill. Giving him another reason to study her would be spectacularly stupid.
Fen continued. “Kael’s military actions helped turn the unrest into open conflict. Aileen’s use of chronomancy further complicated an already unstable situation.”
The pen creaked again beneath Tessa’s fingers. Her mother had not used time magic simply to make things worse. But Theo had no reason to know that. Tessa forced her hand to relax and kept her face blank.
Fen turned back to the timeline. “The difficulty is that surviving records from the first days of the conflict do not all tell the same story.”
Tessa looked up. For the first time since class began, even Zoran stopped mattering.
Fen touched the display, and two records appeared side by side.
“The Dragon Crown Chronicle places both rulers’ deaths on the first night of the crisis,” he said. “That account became the foundation of the accepted timeline.”
Tessa read the entry.
Aileen—dead before the second dawn.
Kael—dead the same night.
A cold pressure settled beneath her ribs. Fen brought up the second record.
“An elven diplomatic evacuation ledger tells a different story.”
The room quieted. According to the ledger, both rulers had been seen helping with an emergency evacuation after the Dragon Crown Chronicle claimed they were already dead. Kael had escorted foreign delegates through the western passage while Aileen reinforced the ward protecting them.
Tessa stared at the two records. One said her parents were dead. The other placed them alive afterward.
“Wartime records often conflict,” Fen said. “Dates are copied incorrectly, witness accounts differ, and some documents survive only through later reproductions.”
A student near the front nodded. Maybe that explanation was enough when the names on the screen belonged to strangers. Before Tessa could stop herself, she raised her hand.
Fen looked at her. “Mr. Monroe?”
“Why is the Dragon Crown Chronicle considered more reliable?” Several faces turned toward her.
Wonderful. So much for staying unnoticed.
Fen seemed more interested than suspicious. “More copies survived, and the Chronicle remained within an established royal archival chain. Later historians were also able to compare it with other records from the period.”
“And the elven ledger?”
“Likely genuine, but its surviving copy cannot be authenticated with the same certainty.”
Tessa looked back at the two accounts.
“So the version with more records left behind became the accepted one.”
Fen paused. “That is one way of putting it.”
Tessa should have stopped there. Then her eyes caught on the old formal title beside Aileen’s name. The pronunciation surfaced in her mind before Fen explained it. Her lips almost shaped the first syllable but she caught herself and looked down.
Too late.
When Tessa glanced at Zoran, he was already watching her. Something in his expression had changed. He wasn’t simply curious anymore.
He had noticed something.
Tessa made it halfway down the corridor before Zoran fell into step beside her.
She kept walking. “Do you make a habit of following people after class?”
“I’m walking.”
“Suspiciously close to me.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
That infuriating calm made every argument with him feel like another test she had somehow agreed to take. His gaze dropped briefly to the notes beneath her arm.
“Why do you care?”
“About history?”
“About them.”
Tessa nearly broke stride.
She kept her eyes ahead. “I dislike convenient stories.”
“You asked more than one question.”
“And you’re still thinking about them.”
The corner of his mouth moved. Annoyingly, he had a point.
“The Dragon Crown Chronicle came through the old dragon royal archive,” Zoran said. “My family inherited part of that record. Its survival does not automatically make it dishonest.”
So that was the nerve she had touched.
“I didn’t say it was dishonest.”
“You said people trusted it because more copies survived.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.” His voice stayed even. “But knowing Aileen’s old title before Fen explained it is harder to dismiss.”
Tessa’s next step slowed. This was no longer just suspicion. Zoran had noticed something he could actually use.
She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes. “Maybe I read ahead.”
“Maybe.”
He did not sound convinced.
Zoran looked forward again. “Keep reacting like that in class and I won’t be the only person who notices.”
The warning unsettled her more than an accusation would have. Tessa tightened her grip on her notes. Zoran was not just watching Theo. He was paying attention to every detail. Before she could answer, the Astral Clock began to ring.
The first strike rolled over the courtyard as they crossed an open passage. Students continued beneath the moonstone arches without slowing.
The bell rang again. And again. Tessa kept walking.
Zoran glanced at her. “You still haven’t answered me.”
“Maybe I enjoy irritating Dragon Heirs.”
“Then tonight has been productive.”
She refused to give him the satisfaction of answering. The twelfth strike faded across Moonveil, and for a moment, everything was quiet.
Then another bell rang. Tessa stopped.
It was no louder than the others, but somehow it felt closer, as though the sound had passed through the courtyard and struck somewhere deep inside her.
Around her, nothing changed. Students kept walking, someone laughed near the stairs, and a door closed across the courtyard. No one looked toward the tower.
Zoran took another step before realizing she had stopped. Tessa stared at the Astral Clock. Its hands had not moved. Zoran followed her gaze, then looked back at her. The faint amusement disappeared from his face.
“What did you hear?”
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