Emily sat on the windowsill, pulling her legs up and looking out at Paris. It was still raining, and the dark night was bright and glowing with golden lights, but she already knew that This Paris hid something unknown, strange behind its calm facades with their little balconies. Just like the Academy.
She touched her lips with her fingertips. Charlotte's kiss had happened almost by accident, yet some treacherous warmth lingered in her body afterward, like a spell. Not like just desire, that ties a hot knot down your stomach, but a bigger intuitive feeling. Charlotte hadn't demanded anything, hadn't tried to cross a line. She had simply withdrawn, as always, without explanation.
The room was better than she had expected—high ceilings, old wooden beams. Tapestries hung on the walls, depicting an ink-stitched Paris. From the window, she had a perfect view of the city—rooftops, balconies, narrow streets disappearing into the shadows of streetlamps. Paris breathed, whispered.
On a chair lay the Academy's student uniform—one set with a short plaid skirt and vest, as well as black trousers with a matching black blouse and corset, all bearing the emblem of the Third Faculty—a number three. Only the clasp of the uniform cloak was odd—a mix of a spiral, the Bender emblem, and a three. What did that mean? That she wasn't a complete loser? She would find out soon enough.
But right now, she needed a shower. She wasn't sure if she was ready for communal showers, but she hoped the stalls were separate. It was the Academy, after all. However, we don't know their preferences yet, it remains only to guess.
The water was hot, pleasant, relaxing. It was already late when Emily arrived at the showers, and luckily, they were empty and had private stalls. She could imagine what went on here, knowing the nature of the local students and the general ambiguity surrounding magic in this place.
Why did this strange pull toward Charlotte feel so… unusual? Like magic slowly weaving itself into her consciousness. Like a spell that worked very slowly, but inevitably.
Emily exhaled, turned off the water, and wrapped herself in a towel. Enough thinking. Tomorrow was the first day of classes. She needed sleep—who knew what awaited her?
***
Emily woke early, just after dawn, and went straight to the showers. Only one stall was occupied, and though she couldn't see who was inside or if they were alone in the steam, she noticed through the partition that it wasn't a blonde—so, not Charlotte…
Back in her room, she tried on the uniform—it looked surprisingly good on her. The shirt subtly highlighted her full breasts, and the skirt was short enough to show off her legs while still allowing free movement. She threw on the cloak over it and it finished the look quite nicely.
The Academy's great hall was crowded, as now all students ate together. The Academy had a three-year program, and the older years curiously observed the newcomers. All the students looked more or less around twenty years old.
Charlotte skipped breakfast, and Emily was surprised at how much she cared about her… friend's absence? She had struggled to fall asleep last night, thinking about the kiss and how Charlotte's room was just a few meters away, right across the corridor. She could have just knocked, and maybe Charlotte would have kissed her again. And again… And lower and lower. Is that what she wanted? But she had been too exhausted from the long, eventful day to risk romantic escapades.
At breakfast, Emily sat next to Inès and a pale boy who introduced himself as Victor. THey were now both her classmates from the Third Faculty. She looked at them properly for the first time—despite Ines being her roommate before, she realized she had spent all her time staring at Charlotte, as if under a spell. And Odette… she was impossible to ignore.
Ines had slightly wavy hair, loosely gathered at the nape of her neck. Her blue eyes always seemed a little narrowed, as if she was either sizing up her conversation partner or trying to recall something. Victor was tall, dark-haired, and pale, with sharp features, dark eyes, and shadows beneath them.
"How did you sleep?" Emily asked casually, sitting down beside them.
"Like in a coffin," Victor muttered, carefully slicing his croissant. "Woke up three times because someone was walking the hallway."
"Maybe it was ghosts?" Emily joked.
"Or Charlotte," Ines said, resting her chin on her palm. "She gets up a hundred times a night and paces around."
Charlotte was nowhere to be seen, but even the thought of her made Emily smile, finally relaxing a little.
"And you?" Ines asked, looking at her closely.
"Honestly? Like someone who spent the whole day in a world that doesn't belong to them."
Victor gave a short chuckle. "So, terribly."
"You catch on quickly," she agreed.
A cold voice suddenly reached them:
"Oh, you're already settling in, aren't you? I wish I could make friends with such enthusiasm among…" Odette paused as if choosing her words, "…third-rate company."
Emily was about to snap back when suddenly a sharp voice rang out:
"That's enough, Odette."
The whole table fell silent. The Deputy Headmistress stood nearby, arms crossed. There was no anger in her gaze—only exhaustion and something unreadable.
And then Emily noticed it—that something in her features, in the way she moved, in the precision of her words… Wasn't there too much resemblance between Odette and the Deputy Headmistress? A family resemblance.
The first class of the day was Defense Against Yourself with Professor Morte.
***
The moment she entered the classroom, Emily's knees nearly gave out.
Hunter.
But notquite Hunter. The one from the mirror, the "Evil Twin" Hunter. Pale, with sharp features, long fingers, and that… fang? Like his twin, alike and yet not alike.
"Professor Morte," he introduced himself. His voice was low, almost velvety.
Emily felt her throat go dry. She met his gaze, but he showed no sign of recognition.
"Defense Against Yourself," he said calmly. "Your greatest enemy in magic is yourself. Your fears. Your desires. Your weaknesses. They make you lose control. And control is everything."
He swept his hand, and the room transformed. It became mirrored. Everyone saw themselves surrounded by shadows.
"These are your inner demons. They know you better than anyone else. Try to destroy them."
Screams tore through the air. Reflections began to move, stepping out of the mirrors, baring their teeth.
Emily backed away, but her shadow smiled.
This was going to be a long class, and that was pretty hard. Emily would shake every time he was near, but overall, she wasn't worse than other students. Could it be that she really had power awakened by yesterday's ritual? She wasn't a fraud after all, and belonged here? There was no time for these questions.
After class, she gathered her courage and caught up with him in the corridor.
"Hunter?!"
He turned sharply. His eyes flashed with irritation.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"But… you…"
"You know my brother?" His voice was like ice.
"Well, if you associate with such company, then you have no place at the Academy. Approach me again, and I'll report you to the Deputy Headmistress."
He spun on his heel and walked away.
Emily watched him go. What the hell is happening here?
***
At lunch, Charlotte finally sat down beside her, as if last night's kiss had never happened. Emily pretended it didn't bother her.
She tried to focus on her food, but her attention was caught by Odette's voice at the next table.
"I'm telling you, he was forced onto the Academy from above," Odette whispered. "Morte isn't just a new professor—he's the eyes and ears of the Temperance Police. They've wanted influence over us for a long time."
Emily froze, fork in hand.
"He's a fanatic," Odette went on, wrinkling her nose. "Preaching control and restraint, as if magic is some dangerous vice that must be suppressed. As if we shouldn't use what we were given. And he's not here by accident. Believe me, the next step will be more bans, and then—"
"And then you'll start spouting conspiracy theories over lunch again?" a cold voice interrupted.
Emily flinched and saw the Vice Principal standing by Odette's table, arms crossed. Her gaze was stern.
Were Odette and the Deputy Headmistress really related?
***
"Desire is the strongest magic," the voice of Madame Delico, the sharp-tongued but striking professor of their next subect, Desire Magnetics, was rich and smooth, like red wine. "It is what moves the world. What can destroy you."
A warmth spread through Emily. Madame Delico smiled, as if pleased by the effect.
"The magnetic field of desire is not just chemistry. It is magic," she paced slowly between the rows. "Learn to control it… or become its slaves."
She stopped in front of the board and snapped her fingers. Golden runes flared to life on the dark surface.
"Today's task is to create a connection. Your magic must touch another, convey your intent. Desire is not just passion. It is trust, fear, tenderness… even control. You will test different levels of influence."
A murmur rippled through the class. Some giggled, others looked nervous.
"Pair up," Madame Delico began reading out names. "Emily… with Charlotte."
Emily's heart skipped uncertainly. She glanced at her seatmate—Charlotte was already looking at her. And smiling.
She had chosen the formal trousers today, her shirt buttoned all the way up, her hair neatly tied back, as if trying to look as unprovocative as possible. And yet, she was still devastatingly attractive.
"We'll start simple," Madame Delico turned back to the class. "Your task is to establish a bond. Feel each other. Determine who dominates and who submits. Who is below and who is on top."
Charlotte tilted her head.
"I hope you don't mind a little experimenting?"
Emily swallowed the lump in her throat.
Oh, this class was going to be interesting…