Page 108 of Legacy Elite

Wren's mouth tips up.

"Then let's ask," she says. "What do you want, Miss Miller?"

Twelve people, a legal officer and a chancellor, all waiting for me to announce my political program.

"I don't know," I say.

"That's not an answer we can work with."

"It's the true one." I put my hands flat on the table. "Two days ago I found out there was a six-year-old girl who got carried out of a burning house and hidden under a fake name for eleven years, and that I'm here because somebody bothered. I haven't finished having feelings about that." I look down the table. "I'm not going to invent a position on constitutional restoration this week because it would be convenient for your minutes."

Nobody says anything.

"I want the review to happen," I say. "I want to be told what it finds. Beyond that, I'll tell you when I know, and I'd like it noted that nobody in this room can tell me what any of it means either."

Wren writes something.

"Noted," she says.

The academy has completely lost its mind.

I know this within about ninety seconds of getting back, because an entire group of third-years step off the path into the grass to let me past.

Into the grass. It's wet.

"Miss Miller," he says.

"You don't have to—"

But he's already gone, and Sophia is making a sound beside me like a kettle boiling in another room.

"Don't," I say.

"I have said nothing."

"You're about to."

"I'm about to ask a procedural question," Sophia says. "Which is: what do we call you now?"

"Jessica."

"Princess Jessica?"

"I'll kill you."

"Lady Jessica."

"Sophia."

"Your Royal Hugeness."

"I will end you—"

"Direwolf Duchess," Sophia says, and then has to stop walking because she's laughing too hard to continue, and Renzo, who has caught us up, says, "Countess of Really Very Large," without breaking stride, and I have to stand in the middle of the quad for thirty seconds while both of them recover.

That's the good version.

The other version starts at lunch.