My gaze flicked to Callan as I internally blanched at the news. His face was still impressively blank. That couldn’t be right. Medical research was what he’d wanted to do since he was a child. If the Board of Regents had set up the field studies, surely they would have made plenty of opportunities in medical research for him and others like him. Wouldn’t they?
“A senator? I didn’t realize that was something that could be arranged,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and professional despite wanting to drag Callan to safety and ask how he really felt about all of this.
Wendy gave a soft smile at that. “Well, not exactly. He will have to work at it like anyone else, but the right connections will certainly position him correctly. And if not a senator, there are always ambassadorships and appointments within the magical botanical congress. Do you have any political ambitions, Briar?” There was something in her tone that made me suspect she was fishing.
“Me? No, not at all. I’ve always planned to go to art school.”
Wendy’s brows rose slightly, though the movement was subtle, and her forehead remained smooth. “Art school? That’s an… interesting choice. You’re a magical botanist. Why art school?”
“I’ve always loved art. It comes naturally to me. And my mom went to art school. It’s just something I have always envisioned myself doing.”
Wendy pursed her deep-crimson lips. “How quaint. Well, we’ll see how the year goes.”
I tried not to prickle at the implication in her words and forced levity into my tone as I shifted the conversation away from my personal choices. “What brought on this change? Was the school having trouble sourcing field studies assignments?”
“We have found that, of late, the research opportunities the school has sponsored are a bit too… broad. Being a magical botanist affords you opportunities that others can never imagine, Briar. These curated studies will help facilitate that while ensuring they are approved by botanists in each affinity field. Don’t you think your classmates deserve a clear path to top opportunities?”
“If there are options that fit everyone’s goals and passions, yes.”
Wendy’s eyes slid to her son for a moment before returning to me. “Passions are… romantic. But this world needs focus, commitment. Botanists can’t make change without power.”
“And power can’t have meaning without passion,” I said lightly before taking a sip of my tea. Part of me wondered if I was playing with fire, sparring with her like this. But I didn’t regret my words. Whether the boldness was inherent to me or fueled by theinjustice of forcing Callan into a political career and ignoring his obvious talent for medicine, I couldn’t be sure.
Wendy sighed. “You’re young. And you’ve been raised in this tiny town. Your world is small, but it doesn’t have to be. These updated studies are what our students need. You’ll see.” She turned to Callan. “Walk me out to the car?”
He followed her without turning to look at me, and I tried not to stiffen. The way his body language toward me had completely shifted at the arrival of his mom had thrown me. I tried not to feel stung by the distance he put between us. Was he trying to signal to her that he and I weren’t friends?
But then I felt the touch of a warm breeze against the back of my neck, tenderly reassuring. I inhaled sharply, knowing exactly where it had come from. So it had been an act—and a convincing one.
I watched as they left the teahouse together, Callan’s body language still tight, and he never cracked a smile.
For the next few minutes, I lingered near the beverages, sipping on my tea, until I realized that I was waiting for Callan to return. Finally, reason told me I had no idea if he’d be back in the teahouse that evening, and my friends were waiting for a debrief up in our rooms.
I went up the stairs to the second floor and found my three friends in Coral and Aurielle’s room. Yasmin had a green knit scarf twisted up between her hands and was squeezing it like a stress ball.
Oh boy.
“What did I miss?” I asked, taking a seat in the fluffy papasan chair near Aurielle’s bed.
“We’re discussing whether our futures are doomed or hopeful based on the new field studies developments,” Aurielle said.
“Got it. What’s the verdict so far?” I wanted to remain neutral until I heard them out, afraid that Wendy’s words had already swayed me.
“I’m not sure yet, but this puts pressure on field studies even more than before,” Yasmin said.
The dorm’s window rustled as something whisked through the crack between the window and sill.
“What is happening?” Coral asked as the leaves spun straight into my lap.
I plucked the note out of the pile, trying not to grin like a fool in front of my friends.
“I have a feeling B’s about to ditch us,” Yasmin said.
Coral gasped. “Is that from Rhodes? Sneaking out at midnight to meet your lover, Juliet?”
I glanced at the clock on the nightstand, which read nine p.m. “It’s hardly midnight, Coral.”
“So you admit he’s your lover?” She raised her eyebrows, and I threw a fern-shaped pillow at her.
