Two days after the examination, I found myself standing at the entrance to the Great Hall.
"Come on," Pearl said, tugging at my sleeve. "If we don't go in now, we'll have to sit in the back."
"Maybe that's better," I muttered.
Des shook his head. "Sitting in the back isn't a good idea. We won't be able to see what's happening."
The hall was already packed with first-year students. The air was filled with nervous energy, hundreds of conversations overlapping, students comparing their answers, guessing their scores, complaining about the difficulty of the questions.
"I definitely failed question seventeen," someone nearby was saying.
"Question seventeen? I couldn't even finish question twelve."
"Did anyone understand what the Professor was asking in the essay section? I just wrote whatever came to mind and hoped for the best."
I kept my head down as we made our way through the crowd.
"That's her, isn't it?"
"The one who finished early?"
"I heard she was done in under two hours."
"No way. That's impossible. She probably ran out of answers to write and decided to give up."
I walked faster, following Pearl and Des toward a section of benches in the middle of the hall. Not too close to the front, not too far back.
We found seats just as the hall's massive doors swung shut. The conversations died down and it got quiet real fast.
At the front of the hall, on a raised platform, stood Professor Thorne and Professor Matthias Corvin, the professor who had set the questions. Thorne looked as composed and intimidating as ever, her dark robes immaculate, her face giving nothing away. Corvin, by contrast, looked uncomfortable as he kept adjusting his spectacles and shuffling through a stack of papers.
"Thank you all for coming," Thorne said, her voice magically amplified to reach every corner of the hall. "As you know, we've gathered here today to address the Intelligence Examination which is the final portion of your Magical Assessment test."
A chorus of gasps hit all at once.
"Professor Corvin will be addressing you shortly regarding the examination and its outcomes. I ask that you remain quiet and respectful throughout the announcement." Thorne's gaze swept across the assembled students, and for just a moment, I could have sworn her eyes lingered on me. Then she stepped aside, and Professor Corvin cleared his throat.
"Good day, students. As we all know, the examination this year was quite... challenging," Professor Corvin began, his voice wavering slightly. "We designed it to test not only your knowledge but your ability to think critically, to apply magical theory in practical scenarios, and to demonstrate true understanding rather than mere memorization."
He paused, and his expression shifted. He looked... embarrassed?
"However," Corvin continued, clearing his throat, "I must confess something. There was an error in the examination. My error, to be precise."
Murmurs rose from the hall. I sat up straighter. An error?
"I was working on some advanced research problems the night before the examination." He adjusted his spectacles nervously. "In my haste to finalize the examination papers, I... accidentally included several of these advanced questions in your first-year assessment."
The murmurs grew louder. Someone behind me whispered, "No wonder it was so hard."
"I take full responsibility for this mistake," Corvin said, his face reddening. "These questions were never meant for first-year students. They were research problems I've been wrestling with myself. Questions that draw on obscure magical theory and require knowledge of texts that even our advanced students haven't encountered yet."
"Because of this error, we tried to adjust the grading accordingly," Corvin continued. "We did not penalize students for questions that were beyond the scope of first-year curriculum. With that said, I'm pleased to announce that despite the difficulty, many of you performed admirably."
He picked up a sheet of parchment.
"I will now call forward those students who achieved very high scores."
Here it comes. The part where everyone else gets recognized and I sit here trying not to exist.
"Our third top scorer, with an impressive seventy-eight percent..." Corvin paused for effect. "Miss Serena Carver."
The hall erupted in applause as Serena rose from her seat near the front, her movements graceful and practiced, her expression the perfect blend of humble and proud. She glided up to the platform, her ginger hair catching the light streaming through the windows. She looked every bit the star student everyone expected her to be.
I clapped along with everyone else, my hands mechanically moving. Seventy-eight percent. That was a good score.
"Our second top scorer," Corvin announced once the applause died down, "with eighty-three percent... Mr. Kai Arden."
More applause. Kai stood up from somewhere in the middle section, looking all smug, like he knew his name was going to be called.
"And our first top scorer, with eighty-seven percent..." Corvin's voice took on a more formal tone. "His Highness, Prince Malachi Della."
The applause was louder this time, more enthusiastic. Malachi rose from his seat with easy confidence, acknowledging the crowd with a slight nod before making his way to the platform. He stood beside Serena and Kai, and even from where I sat, I could see how natural he looked up there. Born for this kind of attention.
I felt relieved. At least my name hadn't been called.
"We also have several other outstanding performances to recognize," Corvin continued, consulting his parchment. "Miss Elena Frost, seventy-five percent."
Scattered applause as a girl with dark braids stood and made her way forward.
"Mr. Thomas Wren, seventy-three percent."
More applause. A lanky boy with nervous energy practically bounced up to the platform.
"Miss Lydia Ashford, seventy-two percent. Mr. Marcus Stone, seventy-one percent. Miss Olivia Hart, seventy percent. And Mr. James Copper, seventy percent."
Each name was met with polite applause as students made their way to the platform. They stood in a line, looking proud. I clapped for each of them, genuinely happy they'd done well, even as a small part of me wondered what my own score had been. Probably somewhere in the fifties if I was lucky.
Once the applause died down, Professor Corvin looked out at the remaining students.
"The rest of you will receive your individual scores privately. Many of you performed well within acceptable ranges, and you should be proud of your efforts on such a challenging examination."
"And now," Professor Corvin said, his voice suddenly different. Excited. Almost trembling. "We come to our final announcement."
Final announcement? But he'd already called the top three. What else was there?
"In all my years of teaching at this institution," Corvin continued, adjusting his spectacles with shaking hands, "in all the decades this University has stood, we have never, not once... had a student achieve a perfect score on the Intelligence Examination."
The hall went completely silent. Even the whispering stopped.
My heart started pounding for reasons I couldn't explain.
"Until today."
No. No way.
"With one hundred percent, a perfect score, Miss Amara Cole."
The world began to tilt sideways.
That couldn't be right. He'd made a mistake. He'd read the wrong name. He'd—
"Amara!" Pearl was shaking my shoulder, her eyes wide. "That's you! Go!"
"I... what?"
Des was grinning. "You heard him. Perfect score. Now get up there before they think you're not coming."
My legs moved on their own, carrying me to my feet. The entire hall was staring at me. Hundreds of faces, all turned in my direction. Some looked skeptical. Some looked angry. Many looked shocked.
I walked down the aisle toward the platform, my footsteps echoing in the silence. Each step felt wrong. This had to be a mistake. Any second now, Prof. Corvin would realize his error and call someone else's name.
But he didn't.
Instead, as I climbed the steps to the platform, he smiled at me. Like his whole face literally lit up.
"Miss Cole," Corvin said quietly, "You are simply amazing. Where did you learn these things?"
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What could I even say?
My god-dad visits me in my dreams and teaches me things that are centuries old.
Or that I spend most of my time buried in ancient grimoires and lost texts instead of having normal conversations with people.
Yeah, right. That sounded completely insane.
mumbled.
"I... I read a lot," I finally managed to say.
Before Corvin could respond, Malachi stepped forward. He extended his hand to me, that easy smile on his face.
"Congratulations, Amara," he said. "That's very impressive."
His hand was warm when I shook it, his grip firm but not crushing. Up close, his eyes were even more striking.
"Thank you, Your Highness," I mumbled.
"Just Malachi is fine," he said, still smiling.
I became aware of someone else on the platform. Serena stood a few feet away, her perfect posture rigid and her smile stuck on her face. But her eyes... her eyes were cold and sharp. Fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
She wasn't happy. Not even a little bit.
"Well," she said, her voice sweet but with an edge underneath, "this is certainly unexpected. I suppose we should all congratulate you, Amara." She said my name the way someone might say "cockroach" or "mud."
"I'm sure it's just beginner's luck," she added, loud enough for those nearby to hear. "After all, anyone can get lucky once."
The words stung, but before I could respond (not that I knew what to say anyway), Professor Thorne stepped forward.
"That will be enough," she said, her voice cutting through the tension. "Miss Cole's achievement speaks for itself. A perfect score is not luck. It is mastery."
Serena's smile tightened, but she said nothing more.
I stood there on the platform, surrounded by the top students, feeling completely out of place.
And judging by the look on Serena's face, I'd just made my first real enemy.