Page 9 of Great Falls Protector
I wasn’t thinking about River when I made this decision, and there’s no way to pretend I was.
“When were you going to tell me about the Trials?” River’s rich voice brushes against my skin, the careful tightness in it making the hurt obvious. At least to me. This close to his broad back, his heat and intoxicating scent wash over me, and it’s all I can do not to close the distance.
I swallow. “Sometime after I knew that I had made the team.”
“I see.” He rocks back on his heels, his gaze still on the portrait of Ckridel’s King Zenith. As if he needs to find a place to look that isn’t me. “And what do you intend to do now, in light of the headmaster’s new rules?”
“The same as I was going to do before—take the exams and pass.”
“So you are rejecting Sage’s offer to repeat the year.” It isn’t a question. River runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more. “Why? It is an option better than either of us could have hoped for. No exams. A guaranteed return to the Academy. You’ve made great strides, but the extra time to work with the material will only help.”
“And you want me to spend the summer away from the Academy.”
River finally swivels to me with thunder in his eyes, his chiseled jaw as hard and stubborn as the rest of his rock-hard body. His face seems to sing with command, from his high cheekbones to the shadowed planes of his cheeks, and I’m reminded for the thousandth time how foolish it is to cross this immortal king. “You can bloody bet on it. There is danger here no matter what I do, and I’m not going to pretend to sound apologetic about ensuring your safety.”
For a moment, I can’t speak, his power seeming to fill the corridor, the Academy, the world, taking all the air with it. My hope diminishes with each breath—hope that maybe telling River the truth of why I need to stay might actually sway him. The last thing the male wants to hear is that I’m inserting myself into the greatest fire I can find—and I’ve too many other wars to deal with to fight River on this too. My chin rises. “I’m not running away—from the Academy, from exams, from whatever will or will not happen here. That much is in my power to decide, and I have.”
River says nothing, turning back to the painting as if that might keep the hurt in his eyes from showing. It doesn’t. His stiff back rises above me once more, a wall of intricate muscle outlined under his white silk shirt. I long to put a hand there, to run my finger down his spine as I might have done in the old days—when I was allowed to. “I was under the impression what you and I did for the past months was important,” he says finally.
“It was important. Itisimportant.” My heart aches, my mind finally seeing what I must do. A way to keep my decision from appearing like a betrayal of all our time together. Glancing around the empty corridor, I dare to touch the male’s hard forearm, the muscles beneath the silk so coiled that I feel his tension seep through the connection. “What you’ve done for me in the past months, the lessons and the patience and the learning—it’s meant the world. You are the first who’s ever cared enough, who I could trust to protect my dignity as well as my mind. I’m grateful. Eternally. I need you to know that.” My grip on his arm tightens. “There is less than a week left until exams, and we’ve always assumed I would be taking them. I trust what we’ve been doing together, River. You should too.”
The silence settling at the heels of my words is deafening. One heartbeat passes. Two. Then River pulls his forearm from my grip.
“Indeed, Lady Leralynn.” With a formal bow, the deputy headmaster walks away, his footsteps echoing down the long stone corridor.
7
Lera
To my surprise, a full third of Great Falls’ cadets take Sage’s offer to repeat the year over, nearly all of them belonging to the smaller noble families who little worry that the withdrawal will reflect poorly on their kingdom. All the royal-blooded cadets stay, some more nervous than others. By the time I walk into Master Briar mathematics classroom the following afternoon, the Academy already feels pruned.
For a moment, I’m jealous of all those students headed home to their cozy castles in their fine horse-drawn carriages. With only three days until the start of the Prowess Trials—and oral exams—the tension within these walls has never been higher.
“Find your seats quickly, please,” Briar calls from the front of what was a musty classroom until someone’s inspiration exploded over it last night. The neat rows of writing desks are gone, replaced with wooden benches placed in a semicircle around a raised dais, a large slate propped on top of it like a crown jewel. The room’s heavy drapes are pulled back strategically to ensure that the afternoon light falls on the center of the space while keeping the bench area in shadow. As with the rest of the Academy, flags representing all of the ten kingdoms stand along the back wall, adding splotches of mismatched color to an otherwise heavy wood-paneled room. A mini arena without the sand and athletics equipment.
Without the usual writing desk to hide behind, I make a bid for the last row of benches and sit behind the widest back I can find—which just so happens to be Tye’s. Putting my books on the bench next to me to save a spot for Arisha, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for an hour of my hardest subject. But instead of slowing, my heart stops altogether. The low hum of conversation and perfume-saturated air nearly makes me miss a familiar woodsy scent.
River.
Nodding in answer to Briar’s bow, the male puts his arms behind his back and stands off to the side as unobtrusively as a warrior of his size can manage. Despite surely having felt my gaze on him, the male gives no sign of having seen me in the crowd.Fine.
Arisha slides somewhat breathlessly into the seat I saved, and for the first time ever, I take in her drab gray uniform with envy. Anything would be better than this stiff costume. “Shouldn’t you be sitting up front with…them?” she whispers, looking meaningfully at my Prowess uniform.
I curse, realizing both my mistake and the empty seat left for me right in the center of the Prowess team bench. Around us, several other people have plainly come to the same conclusion and now watch me with a mixture of interest and amusement. I bite my lip. Move or stay? Move or stay? Seeing more and more eyes glance my way, I carefully rise from my seat—to suddenly find myself the only one standing besides Master Briar and River himself.
I sit down quickly. Brilliant.
“If you are done with selecting seats, Lady Leralynn, might I start class?” Briar asks, adding to the heat already flooding my cheeks. When his gaze finally releases me, I slump in relief—which quickly fades with his next words. “Today, we will hold mock examinations to familiarize everyone with this year’s…modified exam procedures. On exam day, you will enter the arena, whose setup this room now mirrors. When your name is called, you will approach the instructor at the side table, choose one of the facedown tickets, and hand it to him. The question on the ticket, which may be from any subject of study, is the one you will be answering for the exam.”
“One question. One answer. No makeups.” River’s voice carries easily as he walks forward, drawing utter silence like a cloak behind him. In his fine wool jacket and fitted pants tucked into polished black boots, he looks every inch a commander. His eyes pass over me flatly as if I’m just another student—and maybe after yesterday, I am. By the time he stops beside Briar, the only remaining sounds are the benches’ occasional protesting creaks.
Briar, who blanched as much as the rest of us at River’s approach, clears his throat. “Fortunately for today, I have it on good authority that all the questions concern mathematics.” Some of the students titter nervously, but my throat is too dry to acknowledge his poor attempt at humor. These ridiculous exams are nothing more than an exhibition for the sake of a powerful audience—designed for maximum drama and minimum boredom.
Taking out a stack of tickets, the professor lays them out on a small side table beside him. “All right, then. A volunteer, please.”
Beside me, Arisha sits taller—looking a bit like Shade’s wolf spotting steak left too close to a table’s edge.
Briar smiles at her. “Lady—”
