Page 3 of Great Falls Rogue
“I’m not finding your word games amusing, Lady Leralynn.” Daniel’s face colors, splotches of red nearly as bright as the trim on his black robes creeping up his bald scalp. When he speaks again, his words seem forced, as if he’s battling for self-control. “Please explain to us how you believe these factors influence decisions and actions.”
I spread my palms. “Unpredictably.”
This time, a wave of outright chuckling races through the room, turning Daniel’s face a new shade of red altogether.
Behind me, a small familiar creak of the floorboards sends a sudden hush over the room, the shift in atmosphere leaving no doubt as to the newcomer’s identity.
Sure enough, a heartbeat later, I mark River striding along the side wall, his hands clasped behind his back. Observing the class. Or checking on me. Ever since I took a stand against Katita last month, I’ve felt River’s eyes on me from across the dining hall or library or courtyard. He never comes anywhere near me—as if impulsive, reckless behavior might be catching—but he watches. Worried lest I do something to help the world without his permission, I suppose.
Dressed in a simple red silk shirt and flowing black pants that contour his muscular thighs and taper to a taut waist, River’s strong lines are impossible to ignore.
The girls who’d been sketching dresses quickly cover their work, the male cadets sitting up straighter. Three steps, and River has morphed a chamber full of self-important lordlings into nervous cubs. Even the air in the chamber shifts, gaining a spicy tinge of anxiety.
Stars.No wonder Daniel is so bloody furious to be caught off-balance. In my defense, calling on me to speak while the deputy headmaster was in the room wasn’t my idea.
Reaching back for my chair, I try a second attempt at disappearing.
“Come up here, if you please, Lady Leralynn,” Daniel snaps, spittle flying from his lips as he points to a spot before him.
River stops walking, his perfect face unreadable.
“Now, Leralynn.” Daniel jabs with his finger.
Stomach tight, I force myself to walk forward with a feigned confidence that seems to ratchet up Daniel’s choler while not fooling River for a heartbeat. When I walk past the male, I can’t help noting the tight set of his strong jaw, his woodsy scent waking my body to his presence—as if any more such reminder was needed.
“Do you imagine yourself funny?” Daniel demands over the class’s greedy silence as I stop before him. His pale aquiline features are tight with anger.
“No, sir.” A trickle of sweat snakes down my nape.Think calming thoughts. Like… Killing sclices.
“That’s good, because I don’t find you funny either,” Daniel tells me.
“I’m glad they have that settled,” someone murmurs, and I swear I can feel the heat blazing from Daniel spike in reply.
“Hold out your hands,” Daniel tells me, his own reaching for a ruler.
My gaze darts about. I’ve been in an exhausted haze most of the month, but I’d have noticed if this had happened before.
“Yourpalm, Lady Leralynn,” Daniel says, a dark glint in his pale eyes. “If you insist on imitating a ten-year-old lordling who can’t be bothered to pay attention, then I shall treat you as such.”
Over a smattering of snorts, the burn of River’s unreadable eyes is a new humiliation. The twin blows of being punished before the class and the secret truth of my ignorance tighten my throat. Not even in Lunos did I let River suspect the extent of my illiteracy, my basic reading skills having carried me well enough through understanding letters and reports.
Resisting the urge to wipe my damp palms on my dress, I present the palm as ordered. And then, because it’s better to be thought impertinent than stupid, I raise my chin and meet Daniel’s beady eyes. “Does that mean I can be excused afterward, Master Daniel?”
“What was that nonsense,if I might inquire?” River’s deep voice cuts between me and Arisha as I try to scurry out at the end of class.
I jump, the books nearly slipping from my hands. We’ve just made it to the edge of the central courtyard, cadets spilling onto it from every corner under arched trellises of flowers and fluttering pennants—preparations for the annual Ostera ball in full swing. My palms and pride both sting as if set upon by a swarm of bees, but at least Daniel decided to cut his losses and didn’t call on me again after punishment. In my world these days, that’s apparently a victory.
Beside me, Arisha lets out a mix of a squeak and a sneeze.
River offers her a white handkerchief, which Arisha grabs just in time to catch her next sneeze.
“Thank—a-CHOO.” Arisha adjusts her glasses, her freckles standing out even more prominently against her pale skin in River’s forbidding presence. “Flowers. I hate flowers.”
“Indeed,” says River. “You should see Master Shade. He might have something to help.”
The tops of Arisha’s ears flush—as do every female’s at the suggestion of visiting the stunning healer’s infirmary—and she throws me a guilty look before hurrying off, River’s handkerchief firmly in hand.
I don’t begrudge her the retreat—we both know a dismissal when we hear it—but it still leaves me uncomfortably alone with River for the first time in a month. His peripheral scrutiny notwithstanding.
