Page 54 of Wings of Destruction

Did the owner who lovingly sketched in the margins understand the intricacies of some of these tactics?

Some of the questions are pretty smart.

I shut the book and in the silence, the clutter of footsteps grows louder. It’s too late to slink out of the classroom unannounced.

I’m caught.

“My, my. Some maids simply don’t know their place.” Evie’s voice sounds dangerously close to my ear.

She releases her grip on my hair only to get me to look at her. I clutch the book to my chest, my heart in my throat.

“Well?” she presses.

Caught by the worst person.

Evie is as perfect as a picture, not a hair out of place. Like the other day, she’s got Kieran with her, as well as an entourage of other students. I’m not sure if three counts as an entourage at this point but she’s certainly managed to include backup before seeking me out.

I glare at Kieran until he feels the full force of his betrayal. It’s not like the jerk understands. He’s here, isn’t he? He’s still waddling around behind Evie like she’s got a golden leash wrapped around him.

“Well what?” I ask skeptically. “You haven’t actually asked me a question yet.”

A small tittering round of laughter is hastily tamped from behind Evie and her eyes narrow at the sound.

“Where is your place, maid?” she presses. “It’s certainly not with your nose in a book. This room is for students. Not for servants who waste their time trying to be something they’re not. Didn’t you learn your lesson the other day?”

She pauses for only a moment before her eyes slit in displeasure, the long black lashes obscuring the color.

“My nose wasn’t in the book. It’s pretty hard to read that way.”

“Your place is on your knees, scrubbing. Seems to me like you’d benefit from a reminder.” She grabs for the book, her friends sneering and snickering like good little slaves.

Or she tries to, anyway.

I twist away to keep it from her paws, something reckless unfurling in my chest.

“I’d rather be scrubbing than whatever forms of… diplomacy you’ve clearly mastered,” I throw back.

Her lips purse, thinning out into a line and losing their pretty pink blush. Lines fan out from those robin egg blue eyes and Evie, I realize, must be a nickname for evil.

“Excuse me?”

She’s bristling exactly the way I thought she might with only minimal prompting. I tamp down on my urge to grin. This might be easier than I thought.

She’s wound tightly enough to see everything as an insult but doesn’t actually anticipate anyone insulting her.

I chuckle, and her chest stills. “You heard me.”

“Apparently, I didn’t.” Her voice thins.

“By the Ether, but sleeping your way to mediocrity is rather pathetic. You can’t do any better?”

The words tear out of me like claws. Grief has made me reckless, made me say things that should be kept locked away.

I wait the exact same amount of seconds Evie had to give her the time to put it together. She looks at Kieran and a crazed half laugh claws out of her mouth.

“The middle,” she repeats. “You’re serious?”

The others are biting back on their snickers now. Kieran is the only one who makes a sound, a strangled groan he’s quick to hide.