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“Vengeance?” she echoed. She laughed.

Professor Vane was still scribbling on the board. Around us, other students were starting to take down the notes.

Visha leaned towards me, purple eyes narrowing. “Are you saying you’re ready to duel, House Leader?”

I wasn’t intimidated. “If that’s what you demand. I owe you blood. My blood harmed you. As her maker, I was responsible for Aenia. You know that.”

Visha studied me. “Theo told me what you did in the Dragon Court. Offering yourself to Nyxaris.” She shook her head. “Always knew you were a bold motherfucker. Well-played, Blake. Well-played.”

“It wasn’t about self-preservation. Not at that moment.” I took a deep breath. “It was about protecting Florence Shen.”

“Right.” She gave me a dubious look. “Pendragon’s blightborn friend. You actually cared if she lived or died, huh?”

“Yes,” I said bluntly. “I did. I still do. Does that shock you?”

She looked at me for a moment, then shook her head. “You’ve always thought yourself worse than you were. But be careful, Blake. Don’t want to see you going soft.”

“Soft?” I growled. “I haven’t gone soft.”

“I need your edge,” she continued, ignoring me. “At a time like this, when everything is going to finally blow up in their faces—”

“In whose faces?” I interrupted.

Visha gave me a look as if she thought I was an idiot. “C’mon, Blake. Read the room. Regan as headmistress? Gangs of asshole alumni patrolling the halls? The entire school is a powder keg. Don’t you feel it?” She leaned towards me and lowered her voice. “And Lace? Lace was it for me.”

“It?”

“I ended my triad.”

I stared. “You … what? So Lucian and Evander, they’re …” I swallowed. “I mean, I support you even if …”

She laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. They’re not dead. At least, not yet.”

I glanced around. Behind us, a boy from House Drakharrow stared back at me, wide-eyed. I growled low, in the back of my throat. He quickly got the idea, rose, and moved to a row farther back. “Keep your fucking voice down, Visha,” I warned after he’d left. “If we’re going to conspire to kill your archon and fellow consort, could we at least be a little discreet about it?”

“Lucian isn’t my archon anymore. I’m out, Blake. I’m fucking out.” She gave me a funny look. “Didn’t Pendragon tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Apparently Evander and Lucian thought it would be fantastic to team up with Quinn Riley and her friends. They were bullying a blightborn girl in the halls when Medra found them and put a stop to it. Theo told me all about it.”

I thought back to the first day of school when Pendragon punched me in the face. “Now that you mention it, she did seem a little on edge that day.”

“Right. On edge.” Visha snorted. “On edge is what Evander is now. You should see him, scurrying around the halls like a rat with a hound chasing him.”

“I assume you’re the hound in that analogy.”

She tossed her head. “Good guess. As for Evander, the lowlying scum.”

“It was a powerful match. Your family worked hard to arrange it. I thought you were happy except for—”

“Except for the fact that my mates would both have been narrow-minded bigots?” she hissed. “Do you think I’ve heard a Sorry pass their mouths since Lace died?”

I stared at her. “They haven’t said anything?”

“Oh, if you can consider laughter something. Evander looked a little sheepish.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “It’s like they didn’t even expect me to care that she was dead. They thought she was just … something to fuck.” Her cheeks grew redder. “They thought I’d enthralled her.”

I felt horrified. Even while I knew that, for a highblood, the behavior was sadly normal. “I’m sorry, Vish. I know Lace meant a lot to you. And I know she cared for you—of her own free will.”