Steelhands - Jaida Jones [94]
“At least he’ll have fine dreams tonight,” I whispered, once we were out of earshot. My heart was racing, and we weren’t in the clear just yet—the man could always change his mind and, at the slightest infraction, I was certain my father could have me pulled from this program despite how prestigious everyone back home thought it was.
Laure made a disgusted face at me, her cheeks bright red. “Don’t want anyone dreaming about me,” she snapped, “and you could’ve helped, so I didn’t have to do that.”
I stared at her. “What more would you have me do?” I asked. “Should I have flirted with him?”
“I’ve seen you flirt before,” she told me, “and just because I’m the girl of the two of us doesn’t mean I should have to do such things.”
“It’s because you’re the pretty one of the two of us,” I told her. “It doesn’t have anything to do with anything else.”
“That’s what you think,” Laure shot back, shouldering the door to her room open. “We’re not done talking about that letter,” she added hotly, “but I want to be alone for a bit, so scram. And I’d better see you at dinner.”
She slammed the door shut behind her, and I winced at the sound, as well as at the little splinters of wood knocked loose onto the floor. I bent down to clean them up, wondering what had gotten into her. Perhaps, I thought, it was that time of the month, then immediately banished the thought from my mind—as she’d been able to hear me thinking that before, and the results were never pretty.
Gaeth’s letter burning a hole in my pocket and the splinters bundled neatly in my kerchief, I headed back to my room. There was a great deal to think about now—one mystery solved, but a new one had immediately taken its place.
It would be a miracle if we managed to study for our exams at all.
ADAMO
Nothing wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, but nothing happening when you were expecting something to happen was one of the worst feelings life had to offer. Mad as it might have sounded, I would’ve taken the routine of wartime over all this bastion-damned peace and quiet any day.
Of course, I wasn’t so selfish that I’d rather have had people dying in battle than everybody going about their daily business without anything to worry over. I was just on edge because I wanted th’Esar to make his move. All this waiting around felt like wasting time, and when I didn’t have any information to go on, I couldn’t very well make mine.
There was some chance our illustrious highness wasn’t going to do anything at all. He could do whatever he pleased, like pick his nose with a dragon claw, or sit on the information for the rest of his cushy life. And maybe I was just as worried about that happening as anything because I actually wanted him to give my girl another go. She’d done good work and didn’t deserve ending up in pieces.
I wished I hadn’t known about any of this. It was making me jump at shadows and shout at students—even more than usual—and the take-home exam I was making up had questions that forced even Radomir to admit he was stumped.
Good, I thought. Sometimes, there weren’t any easy answers. If the idiots in the class could figure out there was no right way to solve a problem—and you were damned no matter what tactic you took—that’d be one strong life lesson learned. I’d pass whoever figured it out and send the others to a different class, where the questions would follow a formula and their heads wouldn’t get too turned around with possibilities.
“Owen, you are the most miserable and gloomy companion I have ever had,” Roy had told me on more than one occasion. “I am going to be forced to find myself a new best friend—and after I worked so hard at breaking you in.”
“Go right ahead,” I’d replied. “I hope he likes big noses.”
I was on my way to see him again—because he hadn’t made good on his threat, for whatever reason—passing by the statues because I liked to take the long way to the Crescents. The walk helped me clear my head, and maybe I hoped I’d be a better man by the time