No way.

This can’t be happening.

Prince Rhettlin is my mentor? PRINCE Rhettlin. The King’s youngest son. This guy in front of me who is so far above me in everything that I can’t breathe in his presence…

He is going to be my mentor?

This guy, who is so attractive I can’t say a normal word?

What? Am I not supposed to be able to speak for the next few months until I inevitably flunk out?

How is this a prince’s problem anyway?

I still can’t speak. The prince is just looking at me with expectant eyes, waiting for me to say literally anything.

Eventually, I’m able to choke out, “Oh… uh… you don’t have to—” because speaking finally seemed less anxiety-inducing than letting another second of silence pass.

But he cuts me off almost immediately. “It is the king’s pleasure,” he says, and I can’t mistake a slight squint in his eye as he says it. “This kingdom is built on equal opportunities for success for every citizen.”

“But I’m not a citiz—”

Again, I am cut off. 

“Thank you again, Linda. I will show him around,” the Prince says to Old Lady Linda, then walks to the doors without another glance at me.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Old Lady Linda says before hopping back down and getting buried behind her desk once more.

I hesitate for a moment, not knowing what to do. But the Prince doesn’t stop to tell me a thing, so I pick up my leather bag, sling it over my shoulder, and wander after him.

He has several inches over me in height, and I swear all of them are in his legs because I have to power-walk to keep up with his strides.

Maybe this is just how royalty walks. Not like I would know.

“Welcome to Wizard Prep!” the Prince says, nearly startling me with the sudden boom of his voice.

“I—uh. Thanks…” I squeak. I don’t even think he can hear me.

“I will do my best to show you the basics of the building, but it will hardly matter come tomorrow. The rooms often move overnight.” 

“What?” I ask, louder. Apparently, my voice has decided to appear again. “How do you ever know where anything is, then?”

“Eventually you figure it out.” He winks at me with his pearly white smile gleaming, and I think my heart stops beating for a full second.

Hold it together, Allen. Fainting wouldn't be a good way to start at your new school.

Every hall we turn down looks exactly the same: grey-rock walls with uneven masonry, moss growing between the cracks, but only in the most aesthetic of ways, and large red doors with what looks to be stories carved into them in great detail.

I can only assume that the stories on the doors are at least a partial nod to what is on the other side. They all seem to be unique as I study them.

As we pace through the halls, I bump into practically everyone as we weave through the crowd. Everyone seems to part for the Prince, though.

Most of the women and a good handful of the men practically swoon as he walks by. Naturally. Who wouldn't? 

I end up paying more attention to the people around him, all elbowing each other and whispering as he walks past. The only thing my head can believe is that they are whispering about the strange scrawny nobody this larger-than-life Prince has in tow.

Oh, what I wouldn't give to be invisible. That is going to be the first kind of magic I look into. 

I'm so focused on the girls batting their eyelashes and giggling at him that I don't notice when he comes to a sudden halt. I nearly slam into him, but stop a few millimeters shy.

 s there some kind of horrible punishment for touching a prince without explicit permission? I swear to myself never to find out.

“This is the sports field,” he says as he flings open one of the red wooden doors. Inside the room is… well, not a room. It is the outside.

There is a huge, sprawling field of green grass that is larger than the entire grounds the building is built on. Sections of it are divided by white lines painted in various patterns that made no sense to me, while other parts had goals, posts, or whatever else one needed to play games I did not know or understand. There are blasts of light and color exploding from all over the green grass, but I cannot make out what they are before the door pulls shut.

The Prince moves on without another word.

I jog to keep up. 

He stops one door up and flings it open. “This is the library. People tend to think it is important to know where it is, but I have never seen much of a point.” 

There is a light chuckle in his tone like he’s trying to make a joke, but I am far too nervous to laugh along.

Besides, my laugh will sound like grinding metal next to his sing-bird of a laugh. Does this guy have ANY flaws?

I pull myself together to peer into the library. And I have to admit, it is the most magnificent one I’d ever seen. Everything is made of dark, shimmering wood, and the bookcases shoot far into the sky. Platforms rise and fall along the shelves, lifting wizards up to the height of the book they need, before bringing them back down.

Above, a huge circular skylight looks out to the night sky, stars hanging and glowing like the clearest of nights, even though it was daytime last time I'd checked. It shines ambient moonlight on the tables in the center of it all, where students work.

“It’s all divided up by subject, so they tell me. Magical animals and beasts are to the right, and potions and recipes are somewhere in the center. There are librarians who know better than me,” the Prince says off-handedly.

Not much for studying, is he?

Not shocking. He is a Prince. Did he have to work hard for anything?

But something in the library catches my eye, besides how beautiful it is. In the far back corner, to the right, there is a wall with a door outline in a deep, green glow. I hardly see it at first, but the longer I stare, the more obvious it glows.

“What’s back there?” I ask and point at the mysterious door.

The Prince squints his eyes like he can’t see what I see. “I dunno. More books, probably.” 

He turns to move on with nothing more.

Down the hall we go, passing many doors he doesn't tell me about. I guess I’ll figure those out on my own someday.

“Each focus has its own hall where a majority of those majoring in it tend to hang out. They each have their own kitchens, lounges, restaurants, and whatever else you may need,” the prince says as he points to one of the red doors, “The Enchantments corridor is that way, today.”

Most of the words he is saying make zero sense to me. 

“Focus?” I ask since that’s the one word that meant the least to me.

The Prince stops and turns to look at me with his eyes so low on his face that they cast a shadow on his bright green eyes.

I realize at this moment, the Prince hadn’t really looked at me before. Not for real.

Oh, bugbears. I said something wrong, didn’t I?

If it is a chuckle, it's the type of chuckle most people make when they are making fun of my awkwardness. I don’t blame him for that.

“All right then. I’ll back up a few pages,” he says like he isn’t sure how else to respond. 

I am messing every single part of this up.

What will happen when he conveys to the King how unimpressive I am? Will that be enough to get me kicked out? Or banished from the Kingdom? That is probably for the best, anyway.

ThePprince slows down to a stroll as we continue. 

“There are studies of magic anyone can choose from in their eighth year, or, next year for you,” the Prince says. I'm following so far. “Culinary—that would be your magical foods and potions. Enchantment—manipulating objects for convenience, or other effects. Formation and fabrication—we like to call those party tricks, but also includes magical research and crafting of new spells and techniques. And, of course, Elemental—the top tier of magic users go there. That is manipulating the very world we live in. The strongest of all of them.”

He stops in front of another red door and stares at it, long and unmoving. I can’t tell for the life of me what might be going through his head. This door has a rather strange collection of carvings in it. Most notable is the diamond at the very top.

Each corner of the diamond has a strange symbol next to it that means nothing to me, but the way the Prince stares at it, I know it means something to him.

I don’t want to bother him more than I am, so I don’t ask.

Eventually, his trance breaks, "I wouldn't recommend going into the elemental hall in particular, unless invited." He points his thumb over his shoulder to the strange diamond door as he walks away.

The tour continues and I remember none of it. The dining hall. The classrooms. The bathrooms. The greenhouse. If I ever find my way back to any of them, it will be a miracle. 

We end at the dormitories. 

It’s the one place in the building that looks different from every other place. Instead of a long hallway of light rock and ivy, it’s a tall tower of dark stone, with the longest, tallest, twistiest, oldest, ricketiest staircase I’d ever seen winding its way up the tower, so high I couldn’t see the end. 

Every few steps there was a small level area with a smaller, not red, door with a number on it. Then the staircase would continue for another five or six steps, then another leveling with a door. 

On, and on, and on.

“...the doors are enchanted to open when the assigned occupant touches the handle. And that concludes the tour.” the Prince finished.

He had been rambling about how the dormitories worked, but I only pick up on the last bit while I am distracted by how freakishly tall the tower is.

“Oh. Okay,” I say, too nervous to ask him to repeat himself.

“Our schedules have been aligned this semester, so I can assist you until your midterm entrance exam. I shall see you in class on Monday,” the Prince says and with a nod, he backs up and out of the door leading to the dormitory tower. 

In a blink, he is gone.

Wait. Was I supposed to bow? Or something? Was it rude that I didn't?

At least it is over. Part of me is strangely disappointed to watch him walk away, the other is happy to be able to breath again.

I release a long exhale and pull myself together.

Okay, good job Allen. One hour with a prince and you didn’t get thrown in prison or beheaded… that’s better than I thought you’d do.

It is when I look up at the rising tower of endless doors above me that I feel instantly sick once more.

I have no idea where my room is.