Dawn broke over the Academy like a promise—pale gold light spilling across the ancient spires, painting the weathered stone in hues of amber and rose. I watched it from my window, as I had watched so many dawns before, but this one was different. This one was the last.
The room behind me was bare. My trunks had been taken down in the night by Sir Edric's knights and loaded onto the wagons that even now waited in the courtyard below. The escritoire where I had spent so many hours was empty, its surface clean of the documents and letters that had once covered it. The wardrobe stood open and vacant, its doors revealing nothing but space. Even the bed had been stripped, its linens folded and set aside for the next occupant, the next girl who would call this room her prison and her sanctuary.
