"Get up, you'll be late!" Jayce threw the door wide and yanked the blanket like she owned it.
"I am not a morning person," I said, half-buried in a mountain of unfamiliar quilts and a pillow that smelled faintly of iron ash and oil.
"You're a guest under my roof. That makes you my problem," Jayce said, hauling me up by the shoulder and dumping me into a chair. She jabbed a thumb at my face. "Black circles. You're supposed to be invisible in the morning, not a walking billboard."
"You have no proof those are black circles," I protested, rubbing my eyes and accidentally knocking the jade bangle on my wrist against the table. The bangle rang, a tiny hollow chime that didn't belong in any modern life I'd known. It sounded like a key.
"That's right, you are proving my point," Jayce said, amused. "Also, you need a face that doesn't scream 'lost tourist.'"
"Lost tourist is an upgrade from 'you dragged me into a sect,'" I muttered.
"Touché." Jayce grinned like she just won a challenge. "But seriously, you're going to miss the selection on Ember Peak if you don't move."
"I didn't agree to any selection," I said.
"You slept in the guest hall, Madeline. You're technically an outsider," Jayce said. "Outsiders either get laughed at or swept into the terraces. Your choice."
"Is it always this theatrical? Do they bring a fanfare and
