Chapter 18. Eloise
Eloise
As my eyes squint open against the early morning light, I catch sight of my still-packed duffel bag on the floor. My heart immediately clenches as I’m hit with a wave of homesickness.
Maggie—I need to find her.
I pull on my uniform so fast I half trip out the door while yanking up my boots, my hair flowing wildly around my face and down my back in waves.
But as I rush into the hallway, I run smack into Grayson’s chest.
He smiles as he catches my arm to steady me.
He’s wearing his charming smirk, something I’m coming to realize is his resting everybody-loves-me face. “Making an escape, Claws?” he asks nonchalantly.
“Claws?” I repeat, my eyebrows shooting up my forehead. “Did you just give me a nickname?”
He shrugs. “Your eyes are sort of like a lioness. And, well, I’m fairly certain you’d scratch me up if you could, soooo…”
“You’re not calling me that,” I say. “And for clarity, I most certainly can scratch you up.”
“Eloise is a nice enough name, don’t get me wrong,” he continues, “but it doesn’t really capture your feisty personality.”
And now my stomach is doing things that feel like betrayal. “Call me Claws and I’m calling you Casanova.”
A rumbling laugh bursts out of him. “You think I’m the world’s most charming man?”
Just then, the disembodied Gran voice echoes through the halls. All first-years to the dining hall if you plan to eat before training. If not, it’s on you.
I clear my throat. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Oh, I think we could spare a few minutes.”
He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other.
Which is when I realize his boots are fully laced and his uniform is in order.
In fact, he smells like coffee and buttery croissant.
It suddenly occurs to me that’s why he’s being so friendly—this jackass is trying to distract me.
I lock eyes with him. “Where were you this morning? Because I seem to remember you making a huge deal about not letting me out of your sight, and now you’re suddenly leaving me alone in our room?”
His face shows no shame whatsoever. “Maggie’s in the dining hall looking for you,” he says, and I know it’s just another distraction, but this time I don’t care.
Maggie is here.
All I want to do is get to my best friend. I run through the halls, outpacing Grayson, and push though the arched dining room doors.
I don’t have a chance to look for Maggie, because she knocks me off my feet with a bear hug, squeezing so tightly I can hardly breathe. “Nothing less,” she says into my hair, and I immediately tear up. Our promise. Our pact.
“Nothing less,” I say back, and we hold each other for a good thirty seconds before letting go.
“Eloise, don’t ye ever scare me like that again!” Maggie says. “That level of worry is criminal. You had me biting all my beautiful nails off!”
“Me? What about you? Where were you?”
“Questioned by the Council about the Lawless attack,” Maggie replies, and my stomach drops. Were they harder on her because she’s my best friend?
She must read the worry on my face because she adds, “Nothin’ I couldn’t handle, though—ye know full well I’m notoriously resilient.”
Maggie finishes her sentence as Naomi and Grayson appear. And true to her crappy nature, Naomi says, “Less resilient and more cockroach, if you ask me.” She slides her gaze from Maggie to me. “I see you managed to cheat your way in.”
My jaw clenches, but I don’t get a chance to reply because Grayson beats me to it.
“Naomi, I’d like to introduce you to my new roommate—Eloise Belrose,” he says smoothly, and I swear Maggie loses her footing even though she’s standing still.
“Roommate?” Naomi says in shock, which also surprises me. Didn’t he complain about it to his friends last night?
“I guess suitemate is more exact, but you get the idea,” Grayson continues.
I think the jerk is actually enjoying this.
Naomi looks like she might pop a vein in her pretty forehead. “Back up a second. You’re being forced to room with Labor girl after she sabotaged you? How could your uncle let this happen?”
Maybe it’s the hair trigger of the past forty-eight hours or maybe it’s once again the implication that I aided the Lawless. But whatever the reason, I feel magic tingling in my fingertips.
Only the sound of Maggie’s voice stops me. “Aye, here we go, then. Did ye stay up all night stretching those two brain cells of yours to spin this story? Because I have to say, you’re a bit of a letdown.”
Naomi’s expression sours. But when she lifts her hand to cast, I step in front of Maggie, blocking her. Only before Naomi can react, Grayson grabs her wrist.
Naomi whips her perfectly wing-tipped eyes toward him, her silky hair following the motion.
“Leave it,” he says, and it feels like a command.
Whatever Naomi sees in his eyes must make an impression because she swallows and drops her hand.
“I’m starving anyway,” Naomi says, pride stung, and turns on her heel.
Maggie shudders as they walk away. “She was sayin’ horrible things about you at the Academy, Eloise. Claiming Laborers are nothing but Lawless sympathizers—”
I interrupt, not wanting anyone to overhear us. “You said they interviewed you? They didn’t … mention my family at all, did they?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Yer family? Whatever for?”
“It’s not like Naomi is the only one to think those things about Laborers,” I whisper.
“Privileged gobshites,” she agrees, but hesitates. “Although, there is something I need to tell you about yer family…”
My heart smacks into my ribs and I reach out for Maggie’s wrist. “What happened?” I ask, imaging the worst.
Her eyes widen momentarily and she places her hand comfortingly over mine. “Ye are wound tighter than spandex, Eloise. I don’t mean anything ominous.”
My look turns suspicious. “What did you do?”
“Me? I’m an angel, as ye well know. In fact, I went to your house like the amazing friend I am to check on you before my flight.
Only your family seemed surprised that I didn’t have a Guardian to escort me?
” she says, and I wince. “Of course, I didn’t tell them how the Chancellor dragged you out of the theater.
I tried to play it down, but you know your gran—she could get herself bothered over a sunny day in June. ”
Oh no. Gran. I press my hand to my forehead. I need to make sure they don’t start asking the wrong questions of the wrong people. “Do you think there are phones here, Mags? Like in the town, maybe?”
“Not ones anyone will admit to, or so Ma says. And not ones you and I are likely to ever see. But your roommate on the other hand…,” she says with a raised eyebrow.
“What?” I say, suddenly self-conscious.
“You asking what.” She gestures toward Grayson and his friends. “Why in the name of all that’s holy did Grayson Stone protect you from Naomi?”
I pull her toward the table near the windows. “Maybe he’s afraid I’ll stab him in his sleep?”
“But how did it even happen? Him being yer roommate?” she asks. “I’d think he’d have first pick, given his family.”
I can barely meet her eyes as I pull out a chair. “Believe me, I was just as surprised as you are,” I say, because I don’t want to lie to her.
Maggie slides into the seat next to mine. She assesses me for an uncomfortable amount of time, but instead of commiserating, she starts to laugh.
“This isn’t funny,” I say, but it’s hard to sound annoyed while she’s laughing so cheerfully.
“You’re blushing the shade of roses.”
“I am not,” I say emphatically.
“Has it been a grand show, then?” She nudges me with her elbow. “Maybe a wee flash of a six-pack as he walks to the shower?” Maggie hates Naomi and Ivy, but she’s never had a problem with Grayson like I did.
“Don’t start,” I say, grabbing a warm, buttery biscuit off the center of the table.
But it’s too late because she’s already snort-laughing. “Never a dull moment with ye, Eloise. And speaking of which, when are you going to tell me what happened with your exam spell? I wore my boots out worrying over it.”
My embarrassment instantly vanishes, because she’s asking the one thing I can’t answer. And I hate the idea of lying to her.
“Can we—” I start, spearing a bite of eggs. But I’m saved from answering because Adrien appears on the other side of the table.
Adrien smiles and shifts his gaze to Maggie. “Judging by the laughing and blushing coming from this side of the room, I take it Margaery’s to blame?”
Hang on, Adrien knows Maggie?
Adrien pours me a glass of water as he sits down. “You might need this. Your friend here has a way of making people choke at tables. Some might call it a talent.”
“First, don’t call me Margaery; I’m not forty, for feck’s sake. Second, you know very well that mouse illusion was a joke meant for your sister,” Maggie says in a huff. “I never meant for your mum to spray her drink out her nostrils. And that’s the truth of it.”
I look back and forth between them. “Wait, how do you guys know each other again?”
“She had a crush on my older sister a long time ago,” Adrien says, and my gaze whips to Maggie.
The agitated look on Maggie’s face confirms my suspicion. Maggie told me on repeat about the half-French, half-Indian girl who stole her heart a month before she moved to America—a long-haired brunette with sultry eyes.
“Sofia Sharma is your sister?” I ask, now fully invested in this conversation.
Adrien grins and Maggie groans.
“Half sister,” Adrien says. “Who I see you told Eloise about, girl-who-shall-not-be-called-Margaery.”
“Just call me Maggie!” she blusters, and it’s fascinating to see her rattled. This never happens.
“She told me all about Sofia,” I say, enjoying myself. I wouldn’t tease just anyone this way, especially if they were sensitive or shy, but Maggie’s neither. She’s an iron-fisted warrior with a sense of humor a mile long.
Maggie rolls her eyes, flicking her copper-bronze hair over her shoulder. “Are you two done? Or should I get comfy while ye discuss the finer points of my dating life?”
But when Adrien follows up with, “You know she’s here, right? Sofia’s a second-year Botanist,” Maggie stops short.
Her gaze whips up. But she doesn’t get a chance to respond before the grumpy Gran spell announces that all first-years are required in the training room. Immediately.