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“Targets for what, exactly?” I said coldly. “Professor Allenvale, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Vasanti Allenvale, Headmistress. And as for targets of what, I’m afraid the answer to that is systemic harassment and discrimination.” She paused, looking uncomfortable. “Or worse.”

“Professor Allenvale, you’re a visiting scholar, aren’t you? You aren’t from Bloodwing.” I gave her a cool look. She wore a long dress in the typical purple and gold of House Orphos. She was pretty enough for a teacher. Dark-skinned with long braided hair, but she’d done something absolutely ludicrous with her hair. She’d dyed it—streaking it with green and purple.

“Yes, that’s correct,” she responded.

I eyed her up and down slowly, trying to raise her sense of unease. “That explains it, then. Obviously Bloodwing fashions must be very confusing to someone who looks the way you do.”

I watched her stiffen, and my smile grew.

“I beg your pardon, Headmistress?”

I gestured to her hair and wrinkled my nose. “House Orphos has always set itself apart from the other houses. I’m not sure what’s considered fashionable in the Sable Isles, Miss Allenvale—” I said, purposely dropping her title. I was being an evil, snooty little bitch and I knew it. Why? Because it was the easiest way to get someone’s back up. And once I’d rattled this woman, she’d sit down, shut up, and no longer be a threat—to me or to herself. “And I don’t care to know, but—”

“It’s Professor, actually,” she said, sounding annoyed.

“Of course. Professor. Well, this is how we do things at Bloodwing. You simply aren’t in the Sable Isles anymore. House Orphos does not have a greater say at the table than any other house.” I smiled sweetly, as I drank down my own cup of lies. Spoken like a true Drakharrow. Or nearly so.

I leaned forward and tapped my finger on the next part of the agenda. “Now, if we may move on?” I didn’t wait for agreement. “Next point, curfew regulations. Blightborn students will be expected to return to their towers by nine o’clock sharp each night. Highblood students will retain their current privileges.” I sped up, not bothering to wait for any questions. “Next, registration for sensitive school areas. The library and greenhouse, as well as any storage areas that contain potentially hazardous materials, will now require blightborn students to register and sign in before entry. For safety purposes, naturally.” I glanced up briefly and saw Rodriguez beginning to open his mouth. But to my surprise, Professor Allenvale beat him to it. Apparently she had more of a backbone than I’d guessed.

“This is outrageous,” the Orphos professor said, her voice trembling. “The greenhouse? Why on earth would students need to sign in at the greenhouse? It’s a classroom.”

“You teach about plants, don’t you?” I said dismissively.

“I teach alchemy and herbology, yes,” Allenvale replied, narrowing her eyes. “So what?”

“Well, some of those plants are poisonous, aren’t they? We’re trying to limit blightborn students’ exposure.” I smiled reassuringly. “For their own safety.”

“You’re treating them as if they’re criminals,” she exclaimed. “They’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Of course they haven’t. It’s not punishment, Professor. It’s merely precaution. We have a responsibility to those students’ families.” I clasped my hands in front of me and tried to look maternal. “We must keep them safe.”

A snort rang out—Rodriguez, of course. I closed my eyes briefly. That man was going to be a constant thorn in my side.

“Safe? I don’t recall anyone caring about blightborn safety when it came time for the Consort Games,” Rodriguez said disdainfully. “The loss of life there was despicable. But there was no concern for blightborn students’ families then. Let’s be honest. This is just the beginning. Next you’ll have them chained to the lecture tables. Escorted from their towers in groups.”

“How ludicrous. There are no plans for any of those measures at this point in time,” I said smoothly. “Now, next matter on the agenda. Some classes are being reassigned facilities.” I looked down at my notes, trying to remember which classes were being moved. Some of the changes Viktor had demanded be implemented only this very morning. “Ah, yes. Basic Combat for Blightborn, Intermediate Combat for Blightborn—”

“Basically all of the combat classes for blightborn taught by Professor Stonefist,” Rodriguez interrupted loudly. “She’s right over there. Why not look at her when you’re speaking to her?”

A muscular dwarven woman stood up, clasping her hands behind her back. “Pardon me, Headmistress, but I see you’ve moved the classes to the old gymnasiums. The walls there were thick with mold the last time I checked. And the ceilings leak and are cracking—”

“They’re being renovated,” I lied, flashing her a brittle smile. Dear Bloodmaiden, did the woman have a beard? “As we speak, improvements are being made.”

“Improvements?” Stonefist muttered. “Those will take months of repair.”

“Just a few small changes, and all should be fine,” I insisted.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted me. “Headmistress Pansera, if I may—”

I looked across the table where Professor Sebastian Sankara was leaning back in his chair. The tall darkfeatured professor didn’t bother to rise. I’d always thought him rather handsome. Now he looked at me with stark disapproval.

“Headmistress Drakharrow, if you please,” I cut him off. “I’ve decided to take my archon’s house name.”

It was a very old tradition, one many modern highblood women eschewed. Well, I decided to bring it back. The Drakharrow name held immense power, and I needed every bit I could get my hands on if I were to keep this whole sinking ship afloat. My father had wanted me to wed a Drakharrow for as long as I could remember, but Blake was supposed to be my way into one of the most prestigious houses in Sangratha, not Viktor. Never in a million years did I dream I’d be the consort of the head of the family himself. It was a dream come true, I told myself. Not a nightmare. Not a nightmare.

“Very well. Headmistress Drakharrow, I must protest these changes,” Sankara said, his expression somber. “The faculty of Bloodwing bear a responsibility to the safety of all students, blightborn ones included. Now, some things are tradition. But the changes you’re proposing are starkly inequitable. There’s no need to set blightborn students apart in this way.”