Chapter 14
Elio
I was on my way from Beginning Potions to the dining hall when I heard my older sister call my name.
I turned to see her marching briskly across the First-Year Quad, heading towards me.
“Danila,” I said, surprised. “How are you? Is something wrong?”
I’d barely seen her since arriving at the academy. Her fourth-year classes and her apprenticeship with the Imperial Weather Corps’ Coastal Storm Mediation Unit kept her too busy to associate with the first-years.
I saw her dark brows were drawn together in a worried expression. Though “worried” had been Danila’s default expression for as long as I could remember.
“We need to talk,” she said, sounding breathless as she came to a halt in front of me.
I heaved a sigh. “Look, if this is about Mother’s birthday gift, you don’t have to worry about it. I’ve already commissioned a—”
“It’s not about that,” she interrupted, glancing nervously at the passing students. “It’s about you and this… this crusade I heard you started.”
Her voice was low, but we were still attracting attention. Mostly because Danila looked out of place here in her upper-division academic gown, embroidered with the blue and silver symbols that marked her affinities for Water and Air magic.
“What crusade?” I asked innocently, though I knew exactly what she meant.
Danila scowled. “Don’t play coy, little brother. You and some little hick from the Western Isles have made a very public enemy of Lord Lukhan FitzMurad and his friends.”
I shrugged and crossed my arms. “Well, someone had to. You should see how they abuse the first-years. Some of those kids are barely eleven, Dani.”
“You’re in over your head,” she declared. “This tea circle you’re involved with? It’s putting a target on your back. On all your backs.”
I snorted. “We’re just a study group. Nothing against that in the academy’s rules.”
“It’s not the official rules I’m worried about.
” Danila ran a hand through her chestnut hair, so similar to my own.
“Haven’t you heard the rumors about a secret society here that’s dedicated to keeping us commoners ‘in their place’?
I’ve seen it myself: commoners who push back against the aristocrats encounter difficulties. ”
“Difficulties?” I raised an eyebrow.
If she wanted to scare me into backing down, it wasn’t working. If anything, it just made me angrier about a system that protected people like Lukhan purely because of an accident of birth.
“Failed exams. Mysterious accidents. Sudden transfers back home.” Her amber eyes narrowed. “Remember what Father always says: ‘The tall poppy gets cut down.’”
“I’m not afraid of Lukhan,” I said, crossing my arms. “Or any of his lackeys.”
“You should be.” Danila’s voice hardened. “Lukhan FitzMurad isn’t just any student. His father may have lost his seat on the Imperial Council, but he and his family still wield considerable influence at court.”
I snorted. “All the more reason someone needs to stand against him.”
“Elio, please,” my sister pleaded, reaching out to grasp my shoulders. “I’ve been here long enough to see what happens to the tall poppies. Just apologize to Lord Lukhan for whatever insult you gave him. Step back from the tea circle before it’s too late.”
And abandon Talisa? Who was counting on me to stand with her and watch her back?
I stared at my sister and saw genuine concern in her eyes. Danila wasn’t easily frightened. On a beach outing when we were children, she’d faced down a charging elephant seal bull I disturbed, armed with nothing but a red shawl and sheer nerve.
To see her this worried now gave me pause, but only briefly.
“Do you think I’m doing this just to make trouble?” I asked.
Danila pressed her lips together. It was answer enough.
“Well, let me tell you about Alara. Eleven years old, a work-study student from a little farming village in East Frankia. She’s in most of my classes.”
Danila frowned. “What about her?”
“Last week, Lukhan and his friends cornered her in the library and told her that pig-herding peasants shouldn’t touch the same books as their betters. Then they made her books float up, just out of reach. Made her jump for them while they laughed.”
Danila closed her eyes. “Elio—”
“She’s eleven, Dani. Eleven. So no, I’ll be damned if I apologize to those damned bullies. I won’t back down. If they want to keep targeting children, they’ll have to go through me and Talisa and every other commoner student we can rally to our cause.”
Danila shook her head. “I know you mean well, but this will end badly for you, little brother. You can’t fight the system that’s been in place for centuries.”
“Well, it’s time the system changed,” I shot back.
Danila sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. If you insist on being the tall poppy, at least watch out for the blade.” She hesitated, then added more softly, “I’ll do what I can to protect you, even if I think you’re being a stubborn fool.”
The noon bell rang. She glanced up. “Oh, no! I’m going to miss the ferry to the Weather Corps station!”
As she sprinted away, I resumed walking to the dining hall. Despite my brave words, the weight of her warning settled with uncomfortable heaviness on my shoulders.
Was I being reckless? Probably.
Was this a fight beyond my capabilities? Likely.
But Alara was counting on me. So were Benno and Tomas and twenty other first-year commoners.
And Talisa, of course. I couldn’t bear to disappoint her.
Secret societies and tall poppies be damned! I’d just have to keep an eye out for any blades heading my direction.
∞∞∞
Lukhan
The library’s silence enveloped me like a protective cloak as I thumbed through the pages of a book I couldn’t concentrate on.
The large windows illuminated the crowded bookshelves and gleamed off the polished marble mosaic floor.
I’d retreated here after a sleepless night spent enduring a torturous headache, craving solitude after yesterday’s near-disaster in the dining hall. I still felt sick at the memory of how close I’d come to a complete, disastrous unmasking in front of nearly the entire academy.
I couldn’t prove it, and Miss Fishwife had done an excellent job of acting innocent, but I knew she was the one behind it. She and that jumped-up merchant’s brat from the south.
I hated the fact that she occupied almost all of my waking thoughts. Twice now, she’d nearly ruined me.
Over the past month, I’d done my best to crush her. Yet somehow she recovered quickly from every blow, smiling that stupid smile of hers under her yokel crown of granny-braids. I loathed how the other commoners looked at her with admiration and respect.
How in the Trickster’s name does she do it? Why do all the other first-year commoners flock to her?
Miss Fishwife wasn’t exactly ugly, but she was the furthest thing from fashionable in her cheap, hideous robes. She certainly wasn’t well-bred or even well-groomed. And her stupid islander accent was thick enough to cut with a knife… even if her Capitolan was fluent.
Only Damien’s quick thinking had saved me yesterday.
And there I’d been worried I was losing him!
He was the loyalist of the loyal, the most stalwart friend. The only person I’d ever known whom I could trust completely. Who knew about my tainted blood… and didn’t care.
He was everything I’d always wanted to be: tall, strong, quietly confident, and fully human.
I traced a diagram of crystalline formations with my fingertip, forcing my mind back to the text. Earth magic had always come naturally to me. Since there were no mages on Father’s side of the family, I assumed it was a blessing—or maybe a curse—from my mother’s bloodline.
“Lord Lukhan,” a silky voice intruded on my thoughts. “Pardon our intrusion.”
I looked up to find Clarence, Lord Ormond, standing over my table. His tall, lean frame cast a shadow across my book.
Beside him stood the stockier figure of his cousin, Lord Henri Montplaisir. They were both third-year students. Ormond was the son and heir to Duchess Violetta of Monteleno, who was also Imperial High Councilor.
If you could believe the rumors, Domina-Regent Jacinthe was close to appointing Ormond as imperial heir. Duchess Violetta was the domina-regent’s cousin and longtime friend, after all.
“Lord Ormond and Lord Henri,” I acknowledged with a polite nod. “I wanted to thank you for the amusement you provided the dining hall the day before yesterday.”
“About that… we were hoping for a few moments of your time,” Ormond replied.
“May we join you?” Montplaisir asked.
“Of course.” I immediately straightened in my chair and schooled my features into the mask of cool confidence I’d perfected over years.
As they pulled out chairs across from me, I noticed they wore identical silver rings wrought in the shape of thorn wreaths, each set with a garnet shaped like a drop of blood.
I’d seen these rings before, always worn by the most elite aristocratic students, though I’d never heard their significance discussed openly.
“We decided to assist you with that little charm because we’ve been watching you with great interest,” Montplaisir said, his accent carrying the distinctive lilt of Monteleno Province. “Your handling of that lowborn trollop from the islands and her first-year rabble has caught our attention.”
“We have a proposition that may interest you,” added Ormond.
Trying to conceal my sudden surge of excitement, I closed my book with deliberate care. “I’m listening.”
“You’ve made quite a name for yourself, FitzMurad,” Ormond continued, using my surname with casual familiarity.
“Few second-years command the respect you do. And your campaign against the troublesome elements among the first-year commoners shows both your loyalty to tradition and your considerable ingenuity.”
“One does what one must,” I said smoothly, relieved that they were choosing to overlook yesterday’s incident in the dining hall. “The academy’s standards have been diluted of late.”