Chapter 30
Thirty
“That was a good attempt,” I say to the military student who’s just come to a panting stop next to me on the training field.
I nod toward the cluster of trees where she and her team have been attempting to carry out a mock assassination attempt on the leader of the opposite team.
“Sticking low to the ground is an effective strategy, but if you can make your way into the trees, people are even less likely to look up.”
The woman lets out a breathless laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind if we do this again. You’ve conducted a lot of assassinations, huh?”
I let out a laugh of my own, even though I know she’s assuming I’ve never done anything remotely criminal in my supposedly noble life. “Oh, yes. Our keep’s spiders and centipedes lived in terror of me.”
A couple of her teammates jog over to us in disgrace. One of the guys rakes his fingers back through his spiky hair. “All right, this was a lot harder than I expected.” He tips his head to me. “Your tips did help, though.”
I shouldn’t enjoy the glow of pride that lights in me at his acknowledgment, buoyed by the other student’s friendly banter. If I’m gaining some respect as well as enemies while assisting with Stavros’s classes, it’s all based on a lie.
But that doesn’t stop the acknowledgment from feeling good.
In the palace tower across the wall, the smaller bell that’s serving as a temporary replacement lets out a couple of dings to mark the hour.
“All right, ladies and gents,” Stavros calls from across halfway the field.
“I think I’ve made my point. I want you to remember that the soldiers you’ll be sending into any actual battle, all the way down to the infantry, are real people with real lives, not mere fodder for your plans. Some risks cost too much.”
He claps his hands and offers a wry smile. “But you successfully got yourselves out of the last half of a lecture, so I suppose it’s a victory on both sides after all.”
He brought his military strategy class out here for an impromptu challenge after the guy who just acknowledged my tips asked why an army wouldn’t simply kill the opposing commander and leave the rest of the enemy forces in disarray.
Stavros felt showing them that it’s hardly a simple task would be more effective than merely telling them so.
Or maybe he doesn’t like being shut away in the classrooms any more than many of his students do. He keeps up the same confident, nonchalant air wherever he goes, but to my eyes, he never looks totally comfortable standing behind a lectern.
I give myself a mental shake. I shouldn’t be spending enough time worrying about the former general’s comfort to have noticed.
The woman who reached me first glances toward the bell tower, her expression darkening. “I wonder how long it’ll take them to properly replace that huge thing. It was the daimon running wild that broke it, wasn’t it?”
The guy with the spiky hair chuckles humorlessly.
“I heard they had a whole squad of guards over there trying to calm the situation—not that it worked—so I suppose so. I don’t know if we should be glad they didn’t batter the college again or worried what it means that they’re taking their new kind of mischief farther. ”
His companion swipes his hand across his mouth, which sets in a grim line. “I’ve heard talk that it’s a sign there’s something’s off with the royal family. The spirits are unsettled by how they’re running things, including the college.”
A soft but startled voice breaks in from behind me. “Who said that?”
I jerk around to see Petra, the standoffish but elegant girl Julita pointed out to me during the hunt, studying the guy with her dark brown eyes.
I’m not sure why she’s even sitting in on the strategy class when she’s associated with the leadership division, but maybe whatever territory she’s hoping to rule over is in a contentious area.
The guy who mentioned the rumor shrugs awkwardly. “No one in particular. It’s just an idea people are passing around.”
The other woman grimaces. “I suppose it makes a kind of sense. I’ve never heard of the spirits doing this kind of damage before. It could be a warning from the gods.”
It is a warning, but not because of anything King Konram is doing.
I swallow down the knowledge I know it might not be safe to share. We still have no idea how many students are part of the scourge sorcery conspiracy.
Unless we’ve assumed wrong, and it’s only a coincidence that one or two rogue students are dabbling in those dark arts while there’s a bigger problem provoking the daimon. Stavros said that even the king was concerned that there might be some larger divine dissatisfaction.
After all the dead ends our investigation has run into, it’s hard to feel sure of anything.
“We’ve been ruled by the Melchioreks since we threw off Darium’s rule,” Petra points out. “I don’t think King Konram is doing anything especially different from the kings and queens before, and the daimon didn’t act out with them.”
The spiky-haired guy nods. “That’s true too. Who knows what’s gotten them riled up? I just hope someone figures it out soon so that we can have a little more peace around here again.”
Why is Petra invested in what people think of the royal family anyway? I eye her for a moment longer and then jerk my gaze away.
Right. Julita told me she’s related to the queen somehow. Of course she’d care.
Now I’m getting as paranoid as Julita is with Wendos. Even if Petra was trying to cover up illicit magic, it’d make sense for her to encourage other explanations for the daimon’s unrest, not quash them.
As Stavros ambles over to us along with the rest of the class, the spiky-haired guy turns to him. “Ster. Stavros, you said you’d go over the final stages of the Battle of Bartosa with those of us who wanted to know before the end of class. Can we still discuss that?”
A few other students perk up with obvious interest. Stavros glances around at them and smiles wryly. “I don’t go back on my promises. But you’ll have to tolerate the classroom a little longer. We’ll need the map.”
His gaze slides to me. I can’t really contribute anything to a conversation about a battle I wasn’t present for and know less about than any of his students do. And we already put off an earlier lunch because of the timing of his classes.
To my surprise, he tips his head toward the college buildings. “Go get yourself something to eat, Ivy. I’ll see you later.”
At first, I assume he’s decided that his constant presence over the last few days will ward off any new attempts at harassment for at least a couple of hours.
But as I head over to the Quadring to pass through to the Domi, I notice a familiar blond figure ducking inside some twenty paces ahead of me.
Benedikt ambles along in the same direction I’m heading without glancing back, the whole trek to the hallway outside the dining hall. Where Alek just happens to be leaning against the wall at the opposite end of the hallway while perusing a book.
Alek looks up, appears to catch Benedikt’s eye, and gives a nearly imperceptible nod. As Benedikt saunters on past the dining hall, Alek pushes off the wall as if to enter.
Ah. So Stavros made some kind of plan with the other men to watch for threats to me. I guess that’s better than him feeling he needs to personally supervise my every move.
How adorable, Julita says with a mildly scoffing tone. They’ve decided they’re not just conspiracy fighters but your own personal bodyguard as well. Not as if you need it.
My irritation at their surveillance vanishes beneath a deeper annoyance with her. It’s her safety they care about at least as much as mine—she could be grateful she matters that much to them.
I stride on toward the dining hall as if I haven’t noticed the subtle hand-off between the men, but I’ve only made it a few steps before a voice booms through the hallways from around the bend Benedikt was making for.
“All still and proper to acknowledge His Royal Highness, the honorable King Konram!”
Everyone in the hall—Benedikt, Alek, and the scattered nobles who were passing by—jerks to a halt and draws themselves up stiffly straight against the wall. I imitate them, my heart skipping a beat.
The announcer couldn’t seriously mean—
But he did. A man with a voice-projecting horn marches into view, followed by three members of the Crown’s Watch… and a head of dark brown hair topped with a gleaming crown right behind them.
Three more guards bring up the rear of the procession. I stare as they stop by Benedikt, and King Konram holds out his hand to shake the younger man’s. Benedikt grins at him with obvious awe.
I guess a bastard’s bastard doesn’t get much face time with his half-uncle.
My hands are sweating. I grasp the folds of my gown’s skirt with a weird sense of gratitude that I’m dressed for a classroom lecture rather than the field exercise it turned into. As if the ruler of our realm really cares about my personal fashion choices.
As the procession continues toward me, my pulse thumps faster. With each step, the king’s face comes into sharper focus.
There are the deep-set eyes and imposing nose that caught the shadows when he gazed down from the temple balcony at the riven sorcerer on the hangman’s platform. The thin lips and jutting chin that tensed with his displeasure.
Those lips are curved into a reassuring smile now. He stops to say a few words to every figure in the hall.
As the group closes in on me, my spine goes even more rigid. An ache runs down my legs with the urge to bolt.
Running like a maniac will get me killed a lot sooner than pretending I have no problems here. No problem at all facing the man who’d happily approve my murder.
I don’t need to wonder why he’s making this gesture. Stavros’s students gave an explanation enough.