Page 48 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

Through the stable’s small window, I saw Archer stroking the glossy coat of his black horse. He seemed so gentle with the animal. It was an odd but captivating sight.

“Do you have an interest in the sport of riding?”

The voice startled me. I flinched, caught mid-stalk, and my cheeks burned.

Quickly, I shut my notebook and turned toward the familiar voice. Around a metre away from me stood Chadwick, his papers in hand and an amused smile on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, Dorothee,” he said politely.

I managed a nervous smile, desperately hoping he hadn’t noticed my peculiar notes–or that my attention had been on the boy in the stables rather than the horses themselves.

“No need to apologise, I was just caught off guard,” I said, pulling my legs off the wide windowsill and sitting up straight.

“You once mentioned your love for animals. Maybe you should think about joining Mister Kingstone in the stables?” Chadwick continued, after nearly making me jump out of my skin. For a split second, I thought he might be another ghost, ready to push me out the third-floor window.

“Aquila, unfortunately, only provides contact with animals in the stables through the horses,” he went on, his tone lighter. “That would be your only opportunity to be near any animals, unless, of course, you count the occasional deer crossing yourpath in the woods on their desperate quest to find Snow White,” he joked.

I couldn’t help but snort at the imagery.

Chadwick had strangely grown on me, and although I knew it was inappropriate, he felt more like an older friend than my psychologist when we talked. It was refreshing to speak openly with someone who understood my perspective without brushing me off as a naïve child.

Coming to Aquila Hall had answered so many of my questions, but it had also gifted me Anwir Chadwick, who was unlike any psychologist I had encountered before. His sessions were informal, yet deeply impactful. I almost wanted to go back to meeting him three times a week, sitting with tea and my favourite cookies as he listened and offered advice.

Unlike others in his profession, Chadwick didn’t intimidate me by taking notes or analysing me with a piercing, clinical gaze. Occasionally, he’d even share snippets of his own life.

He wasn’t married and had no children, which wasn’t surprising given he was only twenty-seven. He’d confessed to loving psychology ever since he was a student at Aquila, which he attended on a scholarship at fourteen. That opportunity had later secured him a place at Cambridge, thanks to his astronomical academic performance.

One thing I’d noticed about him, even without him mentioning it, was his obsession with neatness. Everything about him and his surroundings had to be impeccable, his office, his attire, even his perfectly groomed black hair.

I tried to refocus on our conversation, realising I had spaced out again. “I don’t think riding would be for me. Besides, I’ve already decided to join archery,” I said.

When it came to choosing a sport, badminton had been Maisie’s suggestion, but it wasn’t for me. Archery had always fascinated me, ever since my grandmother told me stories abouta legendary archer when I was a child. Picking it felt like a way to honour her tales.And to push myself out of my comfort zone.

Chadwick smiled and nodded. “Ah, yes, you’re right. I’d forgotten you’d already chosen your sport.”

His lack of urgency told me he wasn’t here by chance, and I decided to get straight to the point. “What is it?” I asked innocently, hoping whatever he needed wouldn’t take too long. I still hadn’t worked up the courage to approach Archer about our planned lesson, and time was slipping right through my fingers.

“During lunch, I spoke with a few of your professors,” Chadwick began, his tone soft but concerned. “They mentioned you’ve been different today—quieter than usual. You’re not typically shy in class, and I just wanted to check in. Is everything all right?”

His concern made me feel small, but I pushed back the guilt. “No—I mean, nothing happened that made me go quiet again. It’s just been a bad day. I’m still recovering from Halloween, a good but exhausting night, and the number of exams we have before Christmas is making me a little nervous,” I lied.

It wasn’t entirely false. The looming exams were daunting. But I wasn’t about to spill everything about my real worries. Not to Chadwick, not to anyone.

He didn’t seem entirely convinced but nodded gently. “Exams can be stressful, but try not to let the fear of failure weigh on you too much. With your love of learning, I’m confident you’ll do well.”

He turned his wrist to check the time before meeting my gaze again. I stood up, feigning a sense of urgency. “Thank you so much for your kind words. I think I’m already feeling a little less frightened,” I said with a light laugh, grabbing my backpack. “And thank you for checking in on me. I'm actually excited. My grandmother is calling me tonight, and I’m meeting witha friend who’s helping me with a subject I’ve been struggling with.”

One of those statements was a lie. I had called Archer my friend, and I was sure that if he had been present to hear it, he would have grimaced.

Even though he had saved my life twice, calling him anything more than a classmate—or perhaps a friend of a friend—felt strange. I wanted to get to know him better, to figure out why I was so inexplicably drawn to him. But his demeanour made it nearly impossible. Just the other day, I’d seen him laugh at something Jesse had said, but the moment he noticed me standing in the doorway, his expression turned cold, retreating behind that infuriatingly stoic mask of his.

Chadwick nodded, his usual kind smile never wavering. “I hope your grandmother is well. And good luck with your studies. You know my email address, and you know where to find me. If you ever need someone to listen, I’m always here.”

“Thank you,” I replied sweetly, making an effort to sound as calm and collected as possible.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Chadwick said, stepping aside to let me pass. Then he turned on his heel and walked toward the west wing, where most of the classrooms were.

Without a second thought, I jogged down the marble stairs, hoping to catch my ghost tutor, though I definitely needed to come up with a better nickname for him, before he disappeared into the stables. If he took off on his horse again, I’d lose another day of precious learning and progress. Which is a hard no for me.

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