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For a second, I almost forgot just how massive that muscular form of his is, especially compared to my gawky body.
Stavros’s tone turns both colder and smoother than when he set his student straight. “I’m failing to see how that’s any of your business.”
Possibly I’ve misplaced my sense of self-preservation, or maybe I’m just sick of trying to keep my head down while everyone in this place slings venom at me.
I set my hands on my hips. “I was only going to suggest thatperhapsif there’s nothing horrifyingly confidential in there, I could read them out loud and spare you the trouble. Assist, since that’s supposedly my job.”
Somehow everything about Stavros manages to harden even more, from his gaze to the set of his jaw. “I don’t need any assistance. Julita should also have told you that I can handle my affairs perfectly fine on my own.”
Oh, yes,Julita says with a hint of mocking.He gets by just fantastically. Other than when he needs to spend more than five seconds not being a prick to the woman who’s keeping me in this world.
A flicker of amusement at her remark must show in my face, because Stavros outright bares his teeth without my saying anything. “Do you have any other helpful suggestions? I’d think carefully about your answer.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t made a single threatening gesture, but I see the ruthless general in him loud and clear.
“No,” I say thinly, and clamp my mouth shut before anything more impertinent slips out.
“Good,” he snaps. “Then why don’t you run along to the meeting, since apparently you’re itching for work to do? I’m sure Aleksi has all kinds of things you can read down in the archives.”
If he’s going to be that way, I suppose I will.
I turn toward the door with a swish of my skirt—something else I’m starting to appreciate about gowns. Tunics just don’t swish with any kind of effectiveness. “Good idea. It wouldn’t be wise for us to arrive at the same time anyway. Thank you so much for your sage guidance.”
And then I get my ass out the door.
He’s just a little sensitive about his new deficiencies,Julita says as I push into the stairwell, working on unclenching my jaw.I can’t say the prickliness is particularly appealing, but it’d have been much harder to convince him to take up my cause if he hadn’t had some kind of sensitive spot I could prod.
Is that why she really turned to Stavros out of all the professors? Not because she thought he was most likely to be able to take on the scourge sorcerers at the college, but because she saw an ideal point of emotional manipulation?
Even though I’m annoyed at the jerk, the thought of her poking at his war wounds—practically literally—gives me a jab of queasiness. Then Julita makes an urgent, wordless sound that draws me up short.
I understand why before she’s said a word. A head of shaggy brown hair is just emerging through a doorway on the landing a flight below us.
What’s Wendos up to now?Julita mutters.
As far as I can tell, following at a careful distance behind him all the way down to the first floor, all he’s up to is walking from his dorm to the classrooms. He turns down the hall that leads to the inner courtyard while I have to veer in the other direction to reach the row of tapestries and the hidden entrance.
Julita keeps murmuring darkly as if to herself.He’s got to be involved somehow. I could keep an eye on him better when our dorms were around the corner from each other.
“I’d rather eat one of these gowns than try to share a dorm with Anya,” I inform her under my breath.
It makes sense that Julita hates the guy so much, but I’m starting to see why the men get that skeptical look on their faces when he’s mentioned. She assumes he’s up to no good at every turn with nothing to show for it.
What if Wendos really has left his bad childhood decisions behind him? How much can any of us trust Julita’s judgment when she’s harboring all that past resentment?
As I slip down the stairs through the shadowy magical passage, I shake those worries off as well as I can. There’s clearlysomethinghorrible going on here at the college, or the daimon wouldn’t be wreaking havoc.
And whatever it is, we’ll all be better off if we can figure it out before their agitation spreads any farther.
It seems I’m not the only one feeling the urgency. I’d guess word about last night’s smashed statues has spread—and maybe about my incident in the dining hall too. When I emerge into the glow of the archives room, Julita’s other three men are already gathered around the desk.
Alek is standing behind it in a typical pensive pose. Benedikt has hopped up to perch on the corner and is swinging one toned leg breezily as if he hasn’t a care in the world, but the flash of his eyes when he sees me tells me he’s still concerned about yesterday.
And Casimir’s response makes it clear Benedikt has shared his observations. The courtesan hurries over, his gaze sweeping over me as if checking for lingering clumsiness.
He stops a few feet away and offers one of his gentle smiles. “You’re having an even rougher time of it here than I realized. Have you totally recovered from yesterday’s incident?”
The wobble that runs through my pulse when he looks at me that way isn’t fair. Neither is the sudden urge to close the distance between us and lean right into his warmth.
