Page 117 of Godless Saints

“With my methods,” she added, taking a delicate sip of tea.

Across the table, Aleksei’s mouth curved with faint amusement. “What can I say? I like a capable woman.”

Vivienne leaned across and kissed him. Three Aster girls lost interest in subtlety.

I stared harder.

Am I in a coma?

Did I die in Ronan Carrick’s hands?

Am I a Victorian ghost at Evermourne Academy?

There’s no way Vivienne is dating Aleksei Lovchy.

Sawyer set his fork down with a clink, staring at the table. “Great. We’re a cult now.”

Mikhail’s grin split wide, all teeth. “Told you assholes weeks ago. About fucking time.”

Vivienne sat back as if she’d merely adjusted a napkin. Aleksei drank his coffee, mouth still faintly marked by hers.

I looked between them. “Wait—” My fingers tightened around the tray. “Why the fuck is everyone up my ass about Cillian when you two are basically tongue-fucking over breakfast?”

Mikhail’s mouth twitched, already grinning.

“Shut it,” Aleksei muttered.

Mikhail ignored him completely. “—if you and Cillian hadn’t kicked things off with a Blood Writ, a Carrick beatdown, public death threats, half a dozen almost-fuck scandals, and whatever the hell went down at the ball that had you walking around like a Victorian widow, maybe people wouldn’t be staring.”

Heat crawled up my neck. Sawyer lit up. “Victorian widow is generous. You looked freshly haunted.”

I whipped my head around. “Keep talking and you won’t have ten fingers left.”

“Not really attached to all of them, anyway.”

I kept going. “So everyone’s giving me shit for Cillian, but you can just make out over the fucking breakfast table? What is this, selective homophobia?”

Vivienne grabbed my wrist, squeezed, and yanked me down by the sweater until I sat.

“We’re not the same,” she said calmly. “Our families fit. Mine has the titles, his has the kind of power people don’t fuck with. Together we look like a treaty. You and Cillian look like two powder kegs who already blew up half the academy. We’re just better at being discreet.”

Mikhail leaned back in his chair. “Plus you’re already a walking headline as Nathaniel Moon’s son. Everyone’s half-convinced he’s pulling strings at Evermourne. Watching you two is front-row seats to a blood sport. Congrats on the Patronage Seat, by the way—”

Vivienne smacked the back of his head. “Ow—fuck, Vivi. Your girlfriend hits like a dude, Lesha.”

She rolled her eyes.

I froze. Cillian’s eyes were already on me.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Vivienne put her arms around me and squeezed tight.

“Hyun, darling,” she said, almost gentle. “You won the Patronage Seat. Results went up this morning next to the Favor tally board.”

Chills ripped down my spine.

I got the Patronage Seat. Just like that.