POV: Otto Moorland

Twenty minutes later, we escaped.

The continued stares and whispered conversations had made dancing feel more like performing, so when Desi suggested we find somewhere quieter to talk, I followed her gratefully through the crowd toward a side exit that led to one of the academy's smaller courtyards.

The autumn night was crisp and clear, stars scattered across the sky like diamonds on black velvet. The sounds of the ball faded to a distant hum as we walked along a ...