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Esmae grimaces. “She doesn’t usually push things very far. People find it easier not to raise a fuss.”
“I didn’t mean to,” I grumble, and pop a bite of the uncertain meat and creamy sauce into my mouth. Then it takes me several seconds to remember what I actually wanted to talk to Esmae about, because everyone in this room is a nitwit for lining up elsewhere—this dish is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
When I drag myself out of the daze of my unrefined tastes, I glance over at Esmae, who’s picking at her own meal much more daintily than I am. I adjust my grip on my fork to the politest possible angle. “Have you had any classes with Ster. Torstem?”
Esmae cocks her head thoughtfully as she chews. “Not so far. He mainly teaches the senior students. Why?”
I shrug as if it’s not all that important to me. “I recognized the name—I think one of my uncles back home went to school with him. Figured I’d let him know what his old schoolmate is up to these days. Does he do much around the school other than teach?”
“He runs a few different student organizations,” Esmae says immediately, so clearly I came to the right person. “The mock trials confederate, the Silanian-Icarian brotherhood, and the bug club.” She wrinkles her nose.
Hmm,Julita says.Wendos is in the ‘bug club’—the entomology society. That was one of the various clubs we’ve noted that would also give the participant an excuse to go off campus and potentially conduct illicit rituals.
Well, that could be a useful connection—if Julita is right that Wendos has continued his scourgish ways.
I smile at Esmae. “Are you a member of any of those?”
She chuckles. “Oh, no, I just like to be aware of all the opportunities in my division.”
Julita makes a derisive sound.And she talked as ifI’ma bootlicker.
“Does Torstem work on legal cases outside of the college?” I ask, pondering how a professor from the royal college would end up running into any street urchins to begin with.
“Not that I’ve heard about. But it’s possible.” Esmae knits her brow. “He seems fairly approachable. I’m sure if you told him about your uncle, he’d be happy to talk with you even though you’re not a student of his.”
That would be convenient if I actually had an uncle. But I’ve always been able to find out plenty of information without talking directly to my target before.
“I’ll have to do that,” I say as I poke my fork into another morsel of meat—
—and a slender arm slams into my shoulder.
An ample splash of red wine smacks the bodice of my gown, soaking through to my skin in an instant. I jerk around to find Anya dangling the errant glass from her fingers and holding her other hand to her lips in mock concern.
“Oh, I’msosorry, I can be so clumsy at the worst times.” Her gaze drops to my dress. “At least I’ve given you an excuse to find something better to wear to the ball.”
As her friends titter around her, she sashays off. I pull at the wet fabric and groan. The stain has already seeped through the pale gray silk all the way past my belt into the skirt.
Maybe I should be glad I don’t have to spend any more time wondering what my payback will be. And that it was the gray dress, not my favorite.
“She issucha beast sometimes,” Esmae mutters, dabbing at my side with her napkin and making a face. “Come on, there’s the washing room just over there. If we get some water on it quickly, the stain might not fully take.”
I let her hustle me over to the room off to the side of the dining hall that holds several latrine stalls and a few large sinks. It becomes obvious within less than a minute that no amount of water is going to stop my dress from looking like a piebald horse.
“It’s fine,” I say with a crooked smile. “There are few things I care aboutlessthan her ruining this gown. I’d rather not let her totally ruin my dinner.”
Esmae purses her lips, but she must be able to tell there’s no saving the dress anyway.
We’ll find a way to make Anya regret this some other time,Julita says, with a calculating note in her voice that makes me glad I’m the one in charge here.
As we hustle back to our table, I glance across the room. I don’t see Anya anywhere nearby, and Alek is either lost in the crowd now or gone back to his room with his food. I’ve lost track of Casimir too, but maybe that’s for the best.
Benedikt has arrived at a table a few over from ours. When our eyes momentarily lock, he twitches his eyebrow upward in either confusion or amusement.
I suppose I can fill him in on tonight’s adventures at the meeting tomorrow, if he’s concerned.
My delicious food is thankfully still warm. As I gulp down another mouthful, my mind turns over Anya’s very specific insult. “There’s a ball coming up?”
Esmae looks at me as if I’ve broken out in purple polka dots. “In two days. Haven’t you heard people talking about it? I’d have thought Stavros would have mentioned it. We have one every month, with everyone at the college invited—well, students and teaching staff, anyway.”
