The class laughed. I made a lot of jokes in class. Making my friends laugh was the part of school I liked best.
Mr. Mooney frowned but tried not to smile. I could see that all the way from my seat because my vision was perfect. “Orion, you do not need glasses.”
“I think I do. Everything looks blurry.” I turned to the girl beside me. “Asha? Is that you?”
She laughed while Mr. Mooney rolled his eyes. “Today it’s glasses. Last week, you left your book at home. Two days before that, you had a stomachache.” He crossed his arms. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Mooney,” I said. “Maybe I’m allergic to the daily life of the Anglo-Saxons.”
Everyone laughed, fooled again, but I was right back where I’d always been. The doctor hadn’t helped. The medicine didn’t work. My parents didn’t want to hear it. Down below, in Loch Ness, the monsters of sadness and anger were boiling up.
I raised my hand. “May I use the restroom, please?”
“If you can see your way there, yes,” Mooney said.
I held my hands out in front of me, pretending to feel my way out of the room. The laughter roared in my ears while the blood was pounding in my head. My skin was hot, my smile stiff on my face like it was nailed on.
The boys’ room was empty. I gripped the sink and took deep breaths, trying to remember what my brothers and I had been taught. We were Mercers. We were practically royalty. We were always calm and in control. We didn’t embarrass ourselves. Ever.
The glass in front of me cracked like a spiderweb, and pain radiated out of my fist the same way. I stared at my reflection; my own face was fractured like my mind. Then I looked down at the droplets of blood staining the white porcelain sink. Instantly, my anger was replaced by fear.
I’d punched the mirror. I’d damaged school property.
I’d rocked the boat.
Panicked, I ran water in the sink, rinsing the blood down the drain. Then I wrapped my hand in paper towels, pressing hard on the little cuts. From knuckles to wrist, it stung and ached. I might’ve ruined my fingersfor piano forever, but what if someone saw what I’d done? Any second now, the door would open, and they’d see…
I tucked my hand into my jumper pocket. Put my smile back in place. Then quickly left the bathroom.
No one would know I broke the mirror.
No one would know I’d rocked the boat.
I’d go home tonight and have my text reader read the chapter to me. I’d memorize it and tomorrow recite the whole thing word for word. Mr. Mooney would be impressed, and no one would know how hard it had been.
I’d done it before. I could do it again.
***
“Orion?” Mum smiled and linked her arm through mine. “Ready?”
As the entourage filed inside the school, I flashed Mum my trademark smile—the one that charmed teachers, disarmed girls, made me popular and untouchable.
I was last to go through the doors, gazing up as the building loomed up high. I was a Mercer prince, groomed to be a king, facing this dragon of a building with nothing but wit, jokes, tricks, and charisma.
My hand sought the brass coin in my pocket. A parting gift from Odin before I left, hurriedly pressed into my hand at the airport. It was engraved with the constellation, Orion, on its smooth surface.
“So you never lose your way.”
I’d taken the coin with me and left piano behind. It was a hobby, nothing more. My parents had told me I was good at it, but I wasn’t made for it. I was a Mercer, made to join the dynasty. Over and over, they told me, and the music faded as the effort I had to put into keeping up at school and not be an embarrassment to the family took all of my energy. Drained me. Exhausted me, until I had nothing left.
I rubbed my thumb over the three stars on my namesake’s belt and heaved a breath.
Four more years.
I’d done it before. I could do it again.
Part I
