Eddy nods, returning to her reading. “He’s a trophy. Yeah. I remember.” Another long pause, then a groan. “God. This shit is so boring.”
I offer a sympathetic shrug. “I would help, but spending time around the heirs has taught me that I’m woefully out of touch.”
It still grates that I knew nothing about the Ó Rinn curse until Leo told me when it was apparently common knowledge.
Her groan makes the books around her flutter, and a cart containing a half-dozen more rolls into place by her elbow. She stares at it in dismay as she says, “No. It’s okay. Save yourself. I’ll just be here…”
“Don’t forget to come and eat.” I glance down at the grimoire and groan. “I’m opening a door and chucking this at his head. There’s just no excuse.”
I’m still grumbling about North’s idiocy over an hour later when the meal delivery service delivers our food, and I take a plate down to his twin, only to find her asleep and drooling on the desk. The Arcanaeum has summoned a granny squareblanket to cover her, and I cup my face in one hand as I wait to see if she wakes.
Instead, she starts to snore.
“Falling asleep on the tables is against the rules,” I whisper as I carefully transport her up to bed.
Eddy’s lucky I’m developing a soft spot for benighted Acklands.
Eight
Kyrith
Over the week that follows, the patrons gradually settle down. My new outfits cause less and less of a stir by the day until one could almost believe I’d always had the ability to change my clothes and hair.
As a result, the small army of women at my desk at the start of the new term causes my brows to pinch together.
What now?
My brows pinch, and the books around me shuffle forward in interest.
There must be at least two dozen ladies here, andof course, who should weave his way between them but the Winthrop heir, his hands behind his back and mischief twinkling in his tempest gaze.
Stars preserve me. What is he up to now?
“Boss!” His grin is brighter than the sun, all of his normal joviality and good looks restored over the break. “You look stunning today.”
Is that…nerves in his voice?
“Mr Winthrop,” I begin, bracing myself against the desk because I just know that I’m going to need the support for whateverthisis. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m about to give you another strike?”
Making a nuisance is against the rules, even if several patrons seem to have forgotten that since we reopened last week.
“This—”he waves one of the ladies in his entourage forward“—is Larissa.”
“Yes. I’m aware.”
He had his hand on her ass during several of Hopkinson’s early lectures before he moved on.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but he ignores me, offering the girl with her long, braided hair an encouraging smile.
“The last time I slept with Lambert was three months ago,” she says bluntly. “He also wanted me to say that he makes a great morning-after breakfast, but honestly, I’d had a really bad break up and wasn’t in the headspace for all the relationship stuff. His cock is huge, though, and that transmutation magic is no joke.”
I gape at her, and she shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Poppy?” Lambert calls, dismissing her. “Where’ve you got to?”
Oh no. No no no. Hedidn’t. “Lambert?—”
“I’m here!” I catch sight of her warm grin a second before she’s there, tackle-hugging Lambert from behind. “He’s a good listener, but we haven’t even kissed.”
