Chapter 19 #2
Two crude wooden mannequins dangled side by side from rope nooses looped around a low-hanging branch of the ancient oak that stood next to the dining hall steps.
Someone had cast a glamor charm to make them look like Talisa and me. I stared, horrified, at my own features—eyes wide in fear, mouth open in a soundless scream.
“They stole our clothes,” I said in disbelief and cold horror as I recognized my favorite blue doublet on my doppelg?nger. I hadn’t noticed it missing.
The Talisa-mannequin wore one of her distinctive island-style linen shifts, embroidered with a cascade of colorful flowers around the neckline and down each sleeve.
The glamor wasn’t perfect—it wavered and flickered like a summer mirage on a hot pavement—but it was good enough that there was no mistaking who the figures represented.
Fastened to the rope holding the Talisa-mannequins, a large placard stated “KNOW YOUR PLACE” in bold red letters. Below the threat, I saw a symbol I knew all too well now: a circle of thorny branches surrounding a single drop of blood.
The seal of the Custodes Sanguinis.
I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but Danila had been right when she warned me about a secret society dedicated to intimidating commoners.
“Who did this?” I demanded, turning to the crowd of onlookers. “Did anyone see anything?”
“Oh dear,” said a female voice with a cultured Capitolan accent. “It looks like someone’s received a warning.” She giggled.
I spun around to glare at her. And recognized Lady Beatrix Fairhaven, one of Lukhan’s friends.
“If I were you, Ferraro, I’d stop going to that subversive little tea circle from now on.” She looked around and raised her voice. “And that goes for the rest of you, too. Stay away from that island fishwife.” Then she laughed again and pushed her way toward the dining hall.
I was still struggling to collect myself when Talisa arrived, breathless from hurrying across the quad. She stopped dead at the sight of the mannequins. Her face when white, then flushed red with fury.
“Whoever’s responsible for this,” she said loudly, “was a damned thief and coward.” She reached for her doppelg?nger, clearly intending to pull it down.
“Don’t!” I caught her arm. “That’s exactly what they want! For us to make a scene, and show everyone how much this bothers us.”
She shot me an incredulous look. “It’s a threat, Elio. Of course it bothers me.” She glared at the Talisa-mannequin. “That’s my favorite shift. I spent all of last winter embroidering it.”
“I know. But we have to be smart about this. Please.”
Talisa hesitated, then said, “All right.”
Still flushed, she turned and addressed the students who’d gathered to gape at the mannequins.
“We all know who did this,” she said in a loud, carrying voice.
“And we know why. Because we’ve made certain people here afraid.
And they think if they can intimidate us, we’ll go back to meekly bowing and scraping and acting like we’re grateful just to be here.
” She paused, her fierce gaze moving over the faces of the onlookers.
“I don’t know about you all, but I’m not going anywhere.
And if this is what they have to resort to, they’ve already lost.”
A murmur of agreement rose from the crowd. But I noticed not everyone looked convinced. Some of the older students looked around nervously, as if afraid someone was watching us.
“Now, let’s get these down.” I reached into my robe for my pocketknife.
“I’ll help you,” said a voice behind me. I turned to see Dante standing there, his lean face set with determination.
“We all will,” added Pernelle, the pretty second-year with curly dark hair who’d helped organize our library study sessions.
Together, we cut down the mannequins and removed the placards. I tried not to look at the faces as we worked. The glamor, combined with my stolen doublet and breeches, felt like a violation.
As we worked, I kept thinking about what Talisa had said.
She was right. This was just another form of intimidation, no different from the flyers or the nasty gossip or the dozens of bullying pranks. But somehow, seeing my face on the mannequin shook me in a way that none of the other threats had.
“You’re right. They’re afraid of us,” I said to Talisa later, as we were eating our breakfasts.
The dining hall was buzzing with the morning’s excitement. I could feel eyes on us as we picked at the porridge none of us had the appetite for anymore. Mira and Juno sat in their usual places on either side of Talisa. Both twins looked nervous and upset.
The mannequins were bundled in a spare tablecloth and propped up against the nearest wall. “Or, they’re afraid of what might happen if more of us commoners stand up to the nobles like you’ve been doing.”
Talisa nodded, but her attention was already elsewhere. “We need to talk about how to protect the twins,” she said. “If they’re willing to go this far with us, I don’t want to think about what they might try with Mira and Juno.”
The thought made my blood run cold.
“I’ll get a few of the second-years to escort them to and from classes,” I promised. “They’re not going anywhere alone from now on.”
Mira nodded immediately, but Juno looked mutinous. “It’s not fair that they get to scare us,” she said. “Why won’t the assistant chatelaine or the mage-instructors do anything?”
“Because this place isn’t about being fair,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Or keeping us safe. They’re only worried about the future lords and ladies. For people like us, safety means being smart and working together.”
As I reached for my mug of tea, I caught sight of Lukhan across the dining hall, watching us intently. When our eyes met, he grinned at me as if he’d just won a prize.
Danila had warned me about the dangers of being a “tall poppy.” Now the blades were swinging at me.
But as I looked at Talisa, still simmering in anger, I knew I couldn’t back down. Not when so much was at stake.
Not when she needed me to stand by her side and protect her.
Let them come for us. I would be ready.