45. Ironic
Ironic
Felix
The corridor outside my classroom smells like floor wax and someone’s very smelly lunch, which isn’t exactly the ambiance I crave after three hours of teaching classes no one wants to take.
I let them out early—on purpose—because if I don’t take a minute between disasters, I might start snapping at undergrads.
Leaning against the locked door, I stretch my back until it pops, and pretend that my phone vibrating isn’t Fitz following up on his plan to infiltrate the staff meetings so I’m not bored.
Only my twin could make the damn things worse, and he has better shit to focus on.
Shifter Basics 101 was my first class of the day and the single best argument for genetic engineering I’ve ever witnessed.
Thirty-six freshmen packed into a room, half of them never having shifted outside a family event and the other half too ‘groomed for greatness’ by their parents to care.
Today’s highlight was a fennec fox shifter from up north who only shifted a single finger, declared himself transformed, and then spent the rest of the class posting his accomplishment to the Prednet.
Meanwhile, a stoat in the second row spent twenty minutes crying because her ear tubes popped wrong and now her balance was weird.
I went through an entire box of tissues that were on the desk when I arrived, and I’ve never had to use one outside of a student with a cold since I started teaching.
Intermediate Shifter Studies came after that mess, and it should have been a step up, but it’s really just the same group from last year, only now they’re more entitled and less likely to pay attention to anything they’re told.
Half the time, they’re useless, as I soon figured out this morning.
Two of them corrected me on information from the textbooks, which are ancient and I try not to use.
The Council is supposed to be updating the curriculum for all the colleges, but the committee for that hasn’t even been formed yet, as far as I know.
When I asked Midori about it last week, she smiled and said it was still being reviewed by the Council, which means it’s on a shelf next to a bottle of gin and will never see daylight.
Academia is infuriating even when you’re an exiled prince from a high-ranking Society family.
By the time my second class wrapped up, I had a headache that ran from my left eye down to the base of my spine, but it was nothing compared to what came next on my calendar.
In their infinite wisdom, the admin here put me on something called the ‘The Pred Games Welcoming Committee’.
I’m not kidding, and it shouldn’t surprise anyone that there’s a committee for making other fucking committees because no sane person would trust the administration of any school to get shit done without unnecessary bureaucracy.
Dupree is like a giant tumor at the edge of the quad, reflecting sunlight so hard it can blind you if you’re not careful.
My conference room for that meeting was at the very top spire, and that made catching the elevator stupidly difficult.
It had a panoramic view of the grounds and just enough soundproofing to make me feel like I was inside a sensory deprivation tank, but there’s a reason for that.
Midori sat at the head of the table in a powder-blue blazer that probably cost more than most apartments.
She was surrounded by the usual suspects—five professors tied to the Society families who would support everything she said without fail.
All of them watched me as if I was going to bite the head off a mascot, and I didn’t discourage that notion.
Keep them scared and they won’t screw with you is almost the Khan family motto.
The damn thing started with the banner for the building, and I almost let out a primal scream of fury.
Of all the things needed for welcoming guests to the campus, a fucking decoration over the admin building doors is not the most urgent.
Regardless, there was a long debate over whether the welcome font should be bold or italicized, and one professor insisted it had to be blue because it conveys both power and dignity.
Another moron argued that red is more species-neutral, and all hope for getting anything done went downhill from there.
I didn’t say a word for thirty-five minutes straight because I knew that doing so would earn me an assignment I don't have time for. Midori’s eyes flicked to me every time the debate lagged, but I kept my hands folded and my mouth shut.
Finally, the clock ticked by long enough for Midori to announce the other committee assignments, which is how I found out that I’m now on the Physical Education Committee, effective immediately.
I wasn’t asked; I wasn’t even warned. My job is to interface with the student body and provide input on wellness initiatives, which is a nice way of saying I’m expected to police the gym for anyone who looks like they might bite a referee.
That meant I had another meeting after lunch, which was news to me, and Midori handed me a folder with the schedule.
If only I could get away with letting the dragon eat that fucking woman…
As everyone stood up to go, I noticed a line on the agenda for that next nightmare—Zhenga is also on the PE Committee, but was left off this one.
That made zero sense because if anyone should have been here, it would have been the other professor who runs the Pred Games.
I caught Midori’s eye, but she just raised her eyebrows and moved on to the next conversation.
As it was, I was certain that I was here because they did not want Fitz representing the male team, and for that, I couldn’t blame them.
If I barely made it through this shit, my twin would have gone intergalactic with his restlessness forcing them to reschedule it.
Lunch was the high point of my day by then, but only because it was fast. I hit the cafeteria, grabbed a tray, and ate standing up.
While I was eating, I checked Fitz’s app.
He set up a ping for any campus emergencies, but nothing came through this morning, thank hell.
Our mate was safe and being escorted all over campus for her classes without a major incident, which I considered a win.
By half-past, I reported to the PE Committee in the same building.
This time they stuck us in a classroom with a busted projector and three rows of ancient desks.
There were four professors—myself, a fossa shifter who looked terrified, Zhenga, and a bobcat I hadn’t seen before.
The agenda was a masterpiece of bullshit.
We had a color-coded list of wellness benchmarks, most of which no student would ever give a shit about.
The damn papers said holistic athletic wellness at least six times, and by the end of the meeting I had two new agenda items to consider, a folder I’ll never open, and a promise that implementation metrics are due by next Friday.
As if I fucking care about that—not in this life or any other, assholes.
Z scooted out before I could corner her, but I saw her head for the east wing, fuming with irritation.
Someone wanted her on the PE Committee and not on the Welcoming Committee, and that someone didn’t want her to know what this season’s matches might bring to campus.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but she definitely knew; I could tell by the way she made a run for it at the end of the stupid meeting.
There’s something off in the way the faculty’s being shuffled, and it felt deliberate. We didn’t have all this shit last year as far as I remembered, and Midori was far less involved in day-to-day stuff than she seemed now. I vowed to figure it out, regardless of who I had to schmooze to do so.
Once I got my crap together, I stepped out into the hall, folder in hand, and let the air hit my face. The headache had been replaced by the cold, clear certainty that there was a new game running underneath this bullshit, and it was going to be a problem if we didn’t suss out what it was.
But I couldn’t fuck around to see what I could find then because the best part of my day was coming; it was time for me to escort my princess to her practice at the arena.
Waiting impatiently, I look around at the mostly empty quad.
As it gets later in the day, more students are in the classrooms and such, so I can stand here and try to shake off the bad feeling my morning gave me.
The sun’s at that angle where it’s more likely to blind you than warm you, and the light hits the stone facades of the Shird so hard the reflections look like camera flashes.
I squint, tracking the flow of students and timing the rhythm of the door at the entrance.
I’m early, but that’s because coming here allowed me to get the fuck out of depressing classrooms and soak in the fresh air.
Now that I’m not stuck in those damn soul-sucking meetings, I see Fitz was texting me about some new firmware update he wants to force-push to my DiePhone.
I ignore him for now, and instead I think about why the fuck Midori is coming down on Zhenga suddenly.
Zhenga actually doesn’t care about meetings, obviously, but this bothered her, and I’m curious why.
As a Leonidas, her lineage gives her a certain confidence that people as weak as Midori won’t fuck with her, but that wasn’t enough today.
Knowing parents like ours, that snub was orchestrated, and I have no idea why the Leonidas clan is even paying attention to her.
They sent her to Apex to pave the way for their current idiot male heir, and they haven’t looked back since.
However, suddenly being involved in her life at a school is weird, and I don’t like it.
I like it as much as I liked hearing about my father on that video conference, and it gives me the same vibes.
The door to the Shird opens just as the hour clicks over, and I spot Dolly instantly.
Her dance bag is slung over one shoulder, and her hair is in a rainbow bun that’s desperately holding it back from her face.
My mate scans the crowd for a microsecond, clocks me, and then rushes over.
I push off the wall to meet her halfway, slipping one arm around her back, and pull her in for a soft kiss.
She leans into it and then pulls back just enough to bury her face in my neck.
“Hey,” I say, voice low. “You look like you survived, at least.”
Princess snorts. “I did. Rockland is still a nightmare, but not as bad with the witnesses there.” She pauses, and I feel the wheels turning in her head. “You heard about my new professor, right?”
“Sterling,” I say. “Diplomacy. Fitz told me he’s working on it, but hasn’t come up with much. That’s not a good sign in my book.”
She sighs and steps back, letting me take the dance bag off her shoulder without asking. “He’s weird. The entire class felt like a setup—he just wanted everyone on edge. Even the Heathers looked nervous.”
That tells me more than anything else could.
Her ex-friends are doubly apex predators with arrogance and entitlement, so if they’re off-balance, it means Sterling might be a problem. I scan the flow of students, keeping my body angled so I can see anyone coming up on us from behind. “You took good notes for us, right?”
“I did, Sir,” she says with a mischievous grin. “I already sent Fitzy pictures of the pages so he can do whatever the hell he does. The dude gave me such a weird vibe that I knew I couldn’t ignore it, you know? I don’t… I just don’t know what it makes me feel, but it’s not good, that’s for sure.”
Nodding, I guide her from the Shird to the practice stadium.
I keep myself between her and the rest of the foot traffic out of habit.
We pass a group of weasel shifters, a handful of lone canines, and a cluster of first-year aquatic shifters clinging together for safety.
Most of them are too busy with their own drama to pay attention, but I still clock every face, just in case.
“Did Sterling say anything that pinged you?” I ask. “Did he mention things that were directed at you or the family?”
Dolly thinks for a second and then shakes her head.
“He never raised his voice. But every time someone said something that wasn’t in the textbook, he’d pause and wait for them to get nervous.
Then he’d smile, like he knew they were going to fuck up, eventually.
” She shivers, though not from the cold.
“He knew every single family name in the room, but he never looked up any of them. It was creepy.”
I nod, committing that to memory. “No way he shows up that prepared without a reason.”
“Do you think he’s here for me?” My mate sounds tired, but not scared as she sighs.
“I don’t know, to be honest. But whatever his game is, we’ll figure it out and shut it down, Princess. You don’t have to fret about it unless he gets directly aggressive like Rockland or some others in the past were.”
She’s quiet for a while before she says, “You’re not telling me something.”
I laugh, because of course she noticed. “I had a rough morning full of bullshit, darling bunny rabbit. It’s affected my mood a bit. However, the things that bothered me are on a small scale, and I don’t think it matters to you. No need to overextend.”
Dolly narrows her eyes at me, but lets it go. “You know, it would be such a refreshing change if the world stopped fucking with us. I might even pass out from the shock.”
As we approach the stadium, I already see the first round of players filing in.
I watch them for a second, but my mind’s already on the next step.
Sterling’s a problem, the committee games are another, and somewhere in the overlap is a reason Z is being kept on the outside.
If I figure out what it is before the next set of meetings, I might be able to get it taken care of before it gets worse.
I steer my princess toward the entrance, watching her face in the shifting light. Her eyes are a little glassy, but the smile is real. She loves the Games, even though we had to convince her to do it at Cappie, and this practice will make her feel much better.
Luckily, I can pick Zhenga’s brain while she does it, and afterward, I might even sit in on her law class so I don’t have to leave her alone.