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He shakes his head and swallows. “He and Rudder stayed at Gill’s house last night. They’re having breakfast there.”
“You didn’t join them?”
“No. I had to do something here.”
“Okay. See you around.”
He nods before going back to his food, then I sit next to Halen. She gives me a questioning glance, and I shake my head no before digging in. It’s a good thing I don’t have much of an appetite, because with weapons class first I don’t want too full of a stomach in case Mr. Brant makes us spar.
Whose bright idea was it to have that class right after breakfast?
Earwyn and her dogfish arrive, laughing loudly. They each glare at me before sitting and talking with their friends.
Lumen turns to me. “Did you see that?”
I grab a roll. “I think everyone did.”
Halen glances over at them. “I wish I could’ve been there for the party.”
“Me too,” I mumble. Maybe she could’ve talked some sense into me.
Luckily, the conversation quickly moves away from Earwyn’s party. Everybody discusses the rest of their spring break. I was the only one studying the whole time, so I don’t have anything to add. Just peek over at Bash’s empty seat every so often.
Soon the bell rings, and members of the faculty give more announcements than usual because of it being the first day of the new term. Most of it seems like stuff we should all know—and that’s saying something since I’m still the academy’s newest student.
Finally, they let us go. I head for the weapons room and can’t help but notice Earwyn is also heading in the same direction. I silently plead she’s heading for the secret library for the fourth-year students.
Nope.
She and her dogfish all go into the weapons room. All three of them are in the class?
This is not shaping up to be a fun quarter. What’s next? A class with Middlebrooks?
“Have a seat,” Mr. Brant waves toward the mat, away from the weapons.
I groan and look around. Everyone else is a fourth-year. I’m the only first-year.
Why would someone do this to me?
I sit and everybody else sits away from me, leaving a full six-foot gap between me and the nearest student.
So much for my uncle’s expectation for people to be nice to me. Or is everyone upset with me because of the party? Maybe I did this to myself.
Mr. Brant paces in front of the group and talks about the upcoming sparring competition. He mentions that no magic will be allowed, and he looks right at me when he says that part. A few people snicker.
My face warms but otherwise, I don’t react. He reads off the list of competitions, and I’m still paired with Zayn Landon, the toughest fourth-year in all the academies. He’s never lost one of these competitions. He’s also never killed a king.
It should be an interesting match.
Mr. Brant rambles on about what else we’ll be doing in the class for the rest of the term, and he hands out papers that have the same information in case we forget.
“Time to spar!” he announces.
My stomach knots. I shouldn’t have eaten so much. At least Mr. Brant rambled on long enough that my food should be partially digested.
He lists off sparring partners, matching me with Earwyn. No surprise there.
We gather our weapons. My trident warms and sends a heatwave through me.
