Page 24 of Taste of Thorns
“Don’t get smart with me, Miss Storm. It doesn’t suit you. Fox Tudor may be infatuated with you – for some reason known only to the damn stars – but it is temporary. It will pass. What heand I share is eternal.” Her eyes glow in the murky light. And am I mistaken or are they a little mad?
I shiver.
Beaufort was wrong. Fox was right. She hates me and she hates me because of him.
“Then you should be having this conversation with the professor and not with me.” I’ve had enough, I’m so cold my fingers and toes are screaming with pain, and if I stay out here any longer, I’m going to catch a chill. I make to move around her, but she darts to the side blocking my path.
“I’m not done talking with you, Miss Storm. Receiving help in a trial is a grave offense. One that would see you not only expelled from this academy, but banished from the realm.” Her eyes shine with obvious delight and this time her smile is real.
“I wasn’t helped,” I say, “and if you really thought I was, you’d already have taken the opportunity to have me carted away.”
Her smile falls away. “Then how did you do it, Miss Storm?” she hisses.
The Princes think I should reveal my magic to the teachers. They think the teachers will help me develop and hone my skills. They believe that is the purpose of this academy.
My sister believed exactly the same thing and look where that got her.
So I don’t tell the Madame about the light wielding, instead I look her in the eyes and tell her,
“I’m not afraid anymore. Of you or of anyone.”
Chapter Seven
Briony
I’m definitely not as brave as I just made out because, once I’m away from the Madame, I’m forced to stop on the path, pinching the bridge of my nose between my finger and thumb and taking several deep breaths just to center myself again.
Then, once I’ve changed my clothes back in my room, I set off, not in search of the Princes, but my two best friends.
As predicted, I find them in the warmest of their two rooms – Clare’s.
Fly’s coat and boots are positioned to dry in front of the fire and they are both sitting up in Clare’s bed, the cover pulled up to their chests like an old married couple.
“Erm,” I say as I step inside the room. “This looks mighty cozy. Am I interrupting something?”
“Ewww,” they say in unison.
“He’s like a brother to me,” Clare adds as Fly says,
“She doesn’t have nearly enough muscles and absolutely no dick. Although,” he says, turning his head towards Clare, “ifwe’re still lonely and single, in say thirty years’ time, I’d happily live with you in platonic bliss.”
“If things don’t work out with Damian, you’re on,” Clare says, smiling at him. “It’s much warmer in here,” she then tells me.
“Get in,” Fly instructs, pointing to the bottom of the bed. “I’m sure you have lots to tell.”
“Just a little,” I say, kicking off my boots and climbing in too. It really is cozy and warm under the covers, even if we squabble for the next few minutes to get comfortable.
“So,” I say, when Fly finally agrees to move his legs over and give me some space, “how did the trial go?”
“Urgh,” Clare says, shuddering, “it was a million times worse than the last one. I don’t think I got anywhere near even starting, let alone completing it.”
“Huh?”
“My parents were there, and they were crying and shaking their heads at me and the stupid trial was right behind them, but I couldn’t even get past to start the thing.” She rests her head on Fly’s shoulder. “I ended up in a ball, sobbing my eyes out. It wasn’t very dignified. I dread to think how few points I got.”
“You haven’t been to look yet?”
“Have you seen the weather out there, Cupcake? It’s prehistoric.”
