Reborn And Remade: The Mind Reading Queen

e Laws

e pressed into my spine. My heart hammered like a trapped beast against my ribs, suffocating under pure

my eyes fl

wave through my skull. A half-used piece of enchanted chalk clattered onto

"This is an introductory spell theory lecture, not your personal bedchamber! If you cannot

I pressed trembling fingers to my temple. The pain was real, but it was not just from t

s in the past. This was my time at the preparatory academy for magically gifted individ

s re

had been cornered in the stairwell and shoved brutally against the stone s

lway. Standing against the cold wall, I raised my hands before my eyes. Smooth, pale skin. No chemical burn

e borderland, the holding pen for gifted yout

wled back

enalties that doomed us to destitution. In my previous life, I had broken beneath the weight of it. I had let them strip away my dignity, l

ce, and I would not waste it on tears. My enemies had not finished their feast, and m

gh the vaulted corridors. Class was ove

little academy princess, exiled to the corridor like a disgraced mongre

very same girls had carried my bags, flattered my heritage, and begged for invitations to the Lawson f

one of them chimed in, tossing her hair. "She's not a princess anymore. Her fami

academy ranking because her father sponsored the library.

ed fingers flicking the lapel of my uniform where my family's silver crest brooch rested. "You know, Colette, since you're destitute, you w

d me. I had bowed my head, surrendered my p

d not flinch. I

a dozen times in a cage bleed into my gaze. The laughter in the hallway began to falter. Th

ched. "What are you looki

little victory, Jessica. Because in exactly seven days, the Magic Council auditors will raid your manor. Your father will be dragged away in chains

e color drained from her face so fast she looked like

arp smile that made the hairs on her neck stand on end. "It

lyzed in terror while her sycophants whispered in frantic confusion. I did not have time fo

et, arched gallery overlooking the academy grounds, need

gany doors while bailiffs prepared their liens. My father, David Lawson, would be sitting among scattered ledgers in his study, drowning in self-blame and trying to protect the wages of eighty craf

vene before it

To amass the fortune needed to clear our name, I had to leave this mundane preparatory academy and enter the Keep of Myriad Races i

ping echoed against the

, its beak tapping the glass with rhythmic urgency. Tied to its leg was an obsidian par

ok the scroll, breaking the wa

itive resonance detected during the recent corridor incident, the candidate Colette Lawson is hereby granted emergency

e heavy parchment, a dark, vin

ing mental gifts. Fate had tried to crush my family into the dir