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There was a trio nearby that drew my eye, and I couldn’t help but stare. They looked unlike anyone I’d ever seen before, so inhumanly beautiful, they hurt to look at. Angels or high Sidhe. They had to be. The first had tied her silvery hair in a high ponytail. It bounced jubilantly, as if it had a confidence of its own. Her skin was opalescent. Like looking at a crystal reflecting in the sun, her appearance changing with every movement as a rainbow of color bounced off her skin and exotic features. The effect was so subtle, I had to partially close my eyes in an attempt to focus. The girls beside her looked similar though it was clear she was their leader.
“Winter Sidhe,” Oleander said in an undertone when he caught me looking. “Not in the line of succession. Daddy is probably a bannerman for the queen. If she was a princess, she wouldn’t be hanging around here.”
“I thought Winter Sidhe tended to be solitary types,” I whispered back.
“They are,” he said. “But circumstances are forcing the Fae together these days.”
“Circumstances?” I echoed. “What circumstances?”
Oleander didn’t answer. He kept his eyes forward, lips drawn into a thin, unhappy line. There was a flinching around his eyes that immediately put me on edge. I’d been around enough disasters to know that look when I saw it. Something was wrong. Something he obviously couldn’t talk about in public, or I imagined he’d quickly tell me. I’d have to get the story tonight after supper.
A chorus of giggles drew my attention to the front of the room. Vivian was at the center of her own group of followers, all dark-haired and classically beautiful. I couldn’t tell if they were her relatives or just her clone sycophants there to laugh at whatever she said. It was clear to me from the get-go that she was the queen bee, which meant the rest would have to fall in line or face her wrath.
“Oh, look,” she said, her voice ringing and harsh. The other students shifted in their seats, their attention searching to find the object of her scorn, which, of course, was me. “The Academy’s newest charity case. And you’ve already found a loser boyfriend. Cute.”
My mouth opened, and I half-rose out of my seat, ready to shout at her and throw a hex or two her way. Oleander pulled me back down by the arm and offered Vivian a lazy smile.
“Loser? That’s the best you have for me, Viv?” Her eyes narrowed on Oleander as he chuckled and shook his head like the joke was on her. “Your tongue is usually the only sharp thing about you. Shame. Don’t worry though, you’ll still have your average looks to last you well into your hundreds.”
I erupted into a fit of furious giggles. I just couldn’t help it. The look on Vivian’s face was a mixture of rage and disbelief, as though she couldn’t imagine that anyone would spit even the mildest of insults her way. I guessed she hadn’t just been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but with her mother in charge of this place, that silver spoon had been upgraded to a diamond-studded rhodium she’d been suckling all her life. The Grimsbanes were some of the oldest known European lines in existence, and with that came entitlement that made the Crescent Circle Coven seem austere in comparison.
Her eyes shifted to me. “You think that’s funny?”
Yes, I did, but telling her that would only start a fight. I just smiled innocently back at her. “Sorry. I’m a bit slaphappy. Early morning, you know.”
She sniffed delicately at the air and then made a face. “Ah right, you’re working in the kitchens. I thought I smelled bacon grease.”
Her followers laughed obligingly at that. Oleander joined in, which made them stop and stare at us, befuddled.
“What are you laughing at?” she demanded.
“I’ve seen that troll of a man you’re dating,” Oleander answered. “You wanna talk bacon grease? He’s so oily, he looks like he bathes in the stuff.”
I gawked at Oleander. Was he looking to get himself killed on his first day of school? Because I had a feeling Vivian would hex him into oblivion if she could get away with it. Her face was shifting from red to puce as we watched, and her fingers were splayed outward, ready to cast.
We were saved when a woman swept into the room, her wide black skirts billowing out from her like a storm cloud. The matching black blouse had the school crest emblazoned on the breast pocket. Her eyes scoured the room when she reached the front, staring us all down like she was taking stock of an enemy camp. She’d tucked her dark hair under a scarlet wrap, with only a few strands curling loose around her ears.
She was beautiful in the way that a falcon is beautiful. Sleek, dark, and willing to kill you if necessary.
“Ms. Grimsbane, may I assume that you’re about to face forward?” Professor Hecate asked, raising a slim, imperious brow.
Vivian faced forward, flashing the professor a pageant-winning smile. Hecate didn’t appear impressed, which made me like her more.
“Sorry, Professor Hecate. I was just giving Astrid a warm welcome. My mother and hers go way back.”
“I see,” Professor Hecate drawled. “Be that as it may, there is no talking in my class unless you are called upon, and that rule applies equally to all students, even you, Ms. Grimsbane. If you break my rules, I will write you up. Are we clear?”
Vivian nodded. “Crystal, Professor.”
“Well,” Hecate continued as she addressed the rest of us. “Open your books to page nine. I expect most of you are familiar with the basics of Germanic runes, and we will start there as a refresher. Before the end of the semester, I expect you to be able to adequately cast using Elder Futhark, Latin, Dalecarlian, Enochian, Inferni, and Old Sidhe script.”
My heart sank as people began unloading their bulging backpacks. I’d been told that books would be provided as a part of my scholarship in my acceptance letter. I’d been too tired and discouraged to realize that meant I was completely without the required reading materials. That meant I had to sit here, twiddling my thumbs on my desk as the rest of them turned to the page indicated. I could practically feel Vivian smirking at my misfortune from the front of the room.
“You can share with me,” Oleander said as I offered him a quick smile.
Professor Hecate’s eyes landed on me a moment later. “Where are your books, Miss Depraysie?”
I wanted to point and shout at Vivian, to claim this had all been her fault, because it was. She and her bitchy witch of a mother had set me up to fail. My face was warm, and I had to blink back the desire to cry. This was so unfair.
