Page 26 of Daughter of the Ninth Line: Part One

Isighed as I disembarked from the ferry. As much as this island was almost primitive, it was blissfully free of Line politics. Well, sort of. On a much smaller, less treacherous level, politics was still played at Boellium War College. It was more fun than it was dangerous. The same couldn’t be said for Fortaare.

The Conclave had been interesting, for several reasons. One, it was interesting to see where the Third Line was placing its pawns. I didn’t think that the Taemes gave a single fuck about the Lower Lines, no more than we did anyway. Although maybe Hayle Taeme was going soft, hanging around with the dirt scrabblers all the time. Maybe that was rubbing off on his father.

The other interesting part of the Conclave had been meeting the Baron of the Ninth Line. Roman Halhed was an average-looking man, with a craggy face and a full beard. He was short and muscled, like most of the men of the northern mountains. There was nothing of his daughter in his face or coloring. If I hadn’t known Avalon was his daughter, I wouldn’t have been able to pick her as a relation at all.

More than that, he had none of her spark. He seemed flat and gray, nothing interesting or useful coming from his attendance at the Conclave. He hadn’t offered aid to the Twelfth Line,despite his daughter’s friendship, and I wondered if they even conversed. He hadn’t asked me or Hayle about how she fared at Boellium, which even my father might have been inclined to do.

No, the only color I saw from the man was when he was deep in the liquor at the banquet, and dwindling our alcohol stores was the only thing he contributed to the meeting at all.

He was a disappointment.

My cousin Shay met me on the dock in Boemouthe. She picked at her nails with impatience, but she could wait. We would take this moment to discuss matters of importance, while we were outside the walls of Boellium, which always seemed to be listening.

“Cousin,” she greeted cooly. She might have the emotional range of a rock, but I trusted her nearly more than any other member of my family. Shay and I had grown up together, and there were very few secrets between us. It had always been that way.

I liked to think she was more loyal to me than my father, but that might be wishful thinking. “Hello, Shay. Make anyone cry while I was away?”

She raised an eyebrow. “No, but you’re not technically back at the college yet. I could race ahead and remedy that.”

I smirked at her and indicated we should start walking. It was about a twenty-minute walk to the walls of Boellium War College, and it wasn’t worth getting our own mode of transportation to make the distance.

“What did I miss?” I asked, lowering my voice, swirling us in a dome of air to keep our conversation private.

“Not a lot. There’s rumors of the Lower Six starting their own networking parties, but so far, nothing has happened. Taeme was away with you, so the Third Line were also quiet. Lucio is far more relaxed than Hayle, so they were more of a disorganised rabble than usual. Hayle’s new girlfriend almost lost her head toEugene, though, which was possibly the most exciting thing that happened while you were gone.”

My feet stuttered on the well-worn path, and it was only decades of training that kept my face neutral. “The girl from the Ninth Line?”

Shay nodded. “They were sparring, and Eugene lost it. Had her on the ground with a sword at her throat before Lucio had even stopped flirting with some girl from the Lower Lines. If I was Taeme, I’d be asking for a new Second.”

“Was she injured?” My tone was bored, but my heart felt like it was pounding, for reasons I didn’t want to understand.

Shrugging, Shay glared at a conscript who was walking down the path toward us, making the soldier move onto the grass and hustle a little faster. “Barely a scratch. That damn bird of Taeme’s swooped in to save the day, and got injured in the process, but the girl from the Ninth managed to escape any real harm.”

Some of the tension released from my shoulders. “Is that why I didn’t see Taeme on the ferry today?”

“He got back yesterday. I heard that the noises coming from the Ninth Dorm have sounded like a brothel on the dockside in Ovl. Taeme was obviously very worried about his mistress. I even saw one of the Third Line conscripts packing them food to take down. Have to keep up your strength to do it doggy style.” She chuckled at her own joke.

I gritted my back teeth, but the idea of Taeme fucking Avalon made rage burn in my stomach. It wasn’t jealousy, though. Why would I be jealous of the fact he was fucking a whore from the Lower Lines?

I was silent as we walked the last little way to the walls of Boellium War College. It was impressive, I’d give it that. It had stood here for centuries. A pillar of strength, or maybe a subtle threat.

Stone walls ran around the whole college, and the atrium shot from the center like a jewel in its setting, a taunt made of glass. It was impenetrable; whoever had built the main building of Boellium had powers that were lost to us now, because it was stronger than stone or steel. We hadn’t been able to replicate the material, and it had frustrated Father to no end.

Stepping through the large iron gates of Boellium, I relaxed a little more. I knew what to expect here. I was the king of this domain, and the people within it were predictable.

Except for her.

Avalon Halhed had been an anomaly since she arrived. I didn’t like people who stepped out of their expected roles, and it was hard to deny that she’d had some effect on the social structure of the college. The mingling between the Upper and Lower Lines had always been frowned upon, but the girl didn’t seem to care.

Add Eugene from the Fourth stepping out of line like that, and something was off in Boellium. People needed to be reminded of their standing, their place in the power structure of the college, and moreso, in the structure of Ebrus itself.

I looked over at Shay. “I think it’s time we had a little healthy competition. What do you say?”

She grinned. It reminded me why she was here with me, rather than being someone’s diplomatic bride. It wasn’t just that she was strong, and that we’d been similar ages. She’d been raised with me as a sibling, far more so than my actual siblings.

It was also because Shay was bloodthirsty. She loved to fight; she’d fight the stable boys, her brothers, our cousins, and as she got older, the younger soldiers and bodyguards. She was fast and strong, but more than that, she was mean.

No, not mean. She wasangry.Simmering rage had flowed just below her skin since we hit ten years of age, and it had stayed there. No matter how badly her mother had tried to beatit out of her, had tried to turn her into a lady, Shay stubbornly remained the person she was.

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