Chapter 45
Talisa
A few hours later, I walked into the Student Affairs Office for First-Year Students, clutching my blue velvet purse with its hard-won bounty and the invoice listing the fines I owed the academy.
On my way to Assistant Chatelaine Julissa’s office, I passed a pair of first-years who fell silent when they saw me, their eyes dropping first to the purse, then rising to the Champion’s Badge on the chain around my neck. They both smiled shyly at me, then scurried away.
True to form, Julissa kept me waiting for a long time before she deigned to see me.
When I finally entered her office, she looked up with an expression of such unvarnished distaste that I nearly turned around and walked out.
“Miss Bernswick.” Her voice was flat. “I assume you’re here about your outstanding fines.”
“Yes, Assistant Chatelaine.” I set the purse on her desk. It made a soft, heavy sound against the wood. “I’d like to pay them in full.”
She sighed heavily. “That’s a matter for the Office of the Bursar,” she said slowly, as if instructing a toddler. “You don’t pay me.”
My face went hot at her tone. “Oh. I see.”
Some of the lightness filling me deflated. Since receiving my prize money this morning, I’d been imagining the moment I poured out the contents of my purse on her desk.
“You understand that paying your fine does not guarantee your return next academic year?” Julissa asked. “Your overall conduct and academic performance will still be evaluated—rigorously—at year-end.”
“I understand, Assistant Chatelaine.”
“Good.” Julissa clicked her tongue impatiently. “Now, if you don’t have any other business with me… close the door behind you when you leave.”
∞∞∞
The clerk at the Office of the Bursar was much friendlier. He was a gaunt, middle-aged man with a fringe of gray hair haloing his head.
He smiled at me as I approached his window in the same building as the Registrar’s Office.
“Miss Bernswick,” he said warmly. “How may I assist our Aurelian Trials champion? Do you wish to deposit your winnings for safekeeping?”
“Yes,” I said, surprised that he recognized me. “But first, I need to pay some fines.”
I unfolded the invoice and slid it under the glass partition.
Frowning, he studied the paper for a moment.
Then he looked up at me. “I’m surprised that the Student Affairs Office didn’t waive your fines. They usually do for finalists and winners. But I can certainly help you with this matter. That will be one hundred and ten aurei, Miss Bernswick, if you please.”
I opened the purse and began scooping out gold coins, each stamped with the double profile of the dominus and domina on one side, and the imperial eagle on the other. I slid them over to the clerk as he counted the running total out loud.
Finally, he said, “That’s it. One hundred and ten aurei, confirmed.”
He withdrew a form from a drawer, wrote briskly, stamped it, then pushed it over to me.
“Here you go. Your receipt for the settlement of outstanding academy fines. And congratulations on your victory.” His tone sounded sincere.
“Many of us here on staff were cheering you and Mr. Ferraro on. You should be very proud of your accomplishment.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. “You mentioned I could deposit the rest of my prize money for safekeeping?”
The denarii from my earlier wins in the tournament would provide me and my sisters with more than enough spending money for the rest of the term.
“Yes, of course.” He reached into another drawer. “Fill out this deposit form, and I will deposit the money into your student account at the Imperial Bank. Anytime you need to draw on those funds, just come see me, Miss Bernswick.”
I left the Office of the Bursar a short time later with my two receipts carefully folded and tucked away in my now-light velvet purse, and a restored feeling of lightness in my chest.
∞∞∞
As instructed by a note delivered to our rooms by Chatelaine Lirelle’s assistant, Elio and I delayed our arrival by a half-hour to tonight’s Aurelian Trials victory banquet.
As we walked hand in hand together from the Western Tower to the dining hall, the silken Stole of Aurelian Merit draped across my shoulders gleamed in the light of the lanterns hung along the path.
While Juno used an illicit spell to clean the dirt from my academic gown, I’d bathed and washed the dust and grit out of my hair before letting Mira braid it and pin it up for me.
Then I’d put on my fanciest blouse, bodice, and skirt, even though no one would see them under my drab—but clean—black gown.
Beneath my clothing, my bruises ached and throbbed. And nothing could disguise the scabbed, reddened skin across my fingers, knuckles, and the backs of my hands where I’d scraped them raw on the Ascendant Platform’s steps. But I didn’t care.
After paying my fine and depositing the balance of my winnings, I’d floated through the rest of the afternoon, buoyed by relief and joy and the lingering sensation of Elio’s lips on mine.
My thoughts still spun in a dizzy circle. He kissed me! Does that mean he feels the same way about me as I feel about him? Or was he just caught up in the moment?
Elio’s hair was still damp from his bath, and the bruises on his battered face were already darkening. Like me, he wore his finest clothes under his academic robes, and his Champion’s Badge glittered on his chest.
He caught me staring up at him, and his dark brows shot up. “What?”
“Nothing.” I squeezed his hand, then yielded to my impulse to tease him. “I mean, other than you look like you lost a fight at Old Auntie Hilda’s tavern back home.”
“Ouch.” He grinned down at me and added, “I want to think that this is how I’d look if I won that fight against, say, ten of your burly villagers.”
I chuckled at the thought of Elio punching Eadwin Fugolson in the face.
Elio’s thumb traced a small, warm circle against my palm. A thrill arrowed through my chest.
“And you look like an Aurelian Champion, Talisa,” he said, his voice husky and his grin transmuting to something warmer.
His free hand came up to cup my cheek.
My breath caught and my heart began pounding frantically as he bent slowly, almost hesitantly. I went up on tiptoes and met his mouth halfway.
His kiss was gentle but insistent, and searingly sweet. I let go of his hand and wrapped my arms shamelessly around his neck, drawing him closer.
He smelled of lemon soap and the fragrant dried herbs from his clothes chest. His hands landed on my hips and drew me hard against him.
We kissed for a long time. Which still seemed too short.
When we finally parted, I felt breathless and overheated despite the icy evening breeze. My heart hammered in my ears… and in regions further down.
In the glow from a nearby lantern, I saw Elio’s smooth brown cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. He stroked my cheek and let his fingers trail down my throat, raising pleasurable shivers that raced down my spine.
Then he cleared his throat. “Uh, shall we? They’re probably waiting for us.”
He held out his hand and our fingers interlaced once again as we walked the rest of the way over to the dining hall.
∞∞∞
The crowded dining hall fell silent as Elio and I entered a few minutes later. Everyone rose to their feet as we paused in the arched doorway.
Tonight, the place looked like a temple dedicated to abundance.
Extra mage-lights drifted under the high, cross-vaulted ceilings like miniature suns. Fragrant garlands of fresh laurel leaves wound around the carved stone columns and hung in swags along the walls.
The long tables reserved for the aristocratic students had been rearranged into a U-shape facing the head table, which was draped in a spotless white tablecloth fringed with gold tassels. Place settings gleamed with polished silver, and crystal goblets threw the light back in dazzling fragments.
“There they are!” someone called.
Whoops and whistles and wild applause rose from the commoner’s tables placed around the dining hall’s perimeter as Elio and I walked over to the head table.
Tonight, two extra chairs had been placed on Chatelaine Lirelle’s right.
Our chairs.
My stomach executed a nervous flip as we passed the ranks of stony-faced aristocratic students.
“Now they’re all really going to hate us,” I murmured.
“Get used to it,” Elio said flippantly. “I don’t know about you, but I plan to enjoy looking down at them for the next few hours. Lady Cresta’s face alone will be worth the price of admission.”
“And Lukhan’s, too,” I whispered, catching sight of his expression burning like a pale flame in the sea of black robes. His green eyes were fixed on me like a hunting cat.
As we climbed the steps onto the dais, I saw that Dante and Mavia were on their feet now, goblets raised. Alara was bouncing on her toes, her coppery hair shining in the lamplight. Mira and Juno beamed at me with fierce sisterly pride.
As we passed along the long line of aristocratic tables, I overheard whispered comments.
“—obviously defective.”
“Pomerado and Espola were winning, until—”
“The whole thing looked rigged to me.”
I spotted Cresta sitting at a table directly below the dais, her back to us, her hair done up into a new, even more complicated style under a hairnet of fine gold wires strung with pearls.
She did not turn to look at us. Bernardo, seated beside her, glanced over his shoulder once, scowled, then turned back to his friends.
At our approach, Chatelaine Lirelle rose from her chair at the head of the table, followed by the rest of the staff and mage-instructors. Halvaren and Varro’s expressions both looked pinched, but Mundise greeted us with a delighted smile and a wink.
The chatelaine inclined her head to us with grave courtesy, as if we were visiting dignitaries.
Tonight, she wore a gown of deep red silk decorated with gold sunbursts so fine they looked painted onto the fabric.
Her smooth dark hair was dressed in a chignon secured with long, ruby-headed gold pins.